ose?' said Mr. Pickwick, half choking.

'Just that, sir,' replied Mr. Weller.

'It was all false, of course?'

'All, sir,' replied Mr. Weller. 'Reg'lar do, sir; artful dodge.'

'I don't think he'll escape us quite so easily the next time, Sam!' said
Mr. Pickwick.

'I don't think he will, Sir.'

'Whenever I meet that Jingle again, wherever it is,' said Mr. Pickwick,
raising himself in bed, and indenting his pillow with a tremendous blow,
'I'll inflict personal chastisement on him, in addition to the exposure
he so richly merits. I will, or my name is not Pickwick.'

'And venever I catches hold o' that there melan-cholly chap with the
black hair,' said Sam, 'if I don't bring some real water into his eyes,
for once in a way, my name ain't Weller. Good-night, Sir!'

CHAPTER XVII. SHOWING THAT AN ATTACK OF RHEUMATISM, IN SOME CASES, ACTS
AS A QUICKENER TO INVENTIVE GENIUS

The constitution of Mr. Pickwick, though able to sustain a very
considerable amount of exertion and fatigue, was not proof against such
a combination of attacks as he had undergone on the memorable night,
recorded in the last chapter. The process of being washed in the night
air, and rough-dried in a closet, is as dangerous as it is peculiar. Mr.
Pickwick was laid up with an attack of rheumatism.

But although the bodily powers of the great man were thus impaired,
his mental energies retained their pristine vigour. His spirits were
elastic; his good-humour was restored. Even the vexation consequent upon
his recent adventure had vanished from his mind; and he could join in
the hearty laughter, which any allusion to it excited in Mr. Wardle,
without anger and without embarrassment. Nay, more. During the two days
Mr. Pickwick was confined to bed, Sam was his constant attendant. On the
first, he endeavoured to amuse his master by anecdote and conversation;
on the second, Mr. Pickwick demanded his writing-desk, and pen and ink,
and was deeply engaged during the whole day. On the third, being able to
sit up in his bedchamber, he despatched his valet with a message to Mr.
Wardle and Mr. Trundle, intimating that if they would take their wine
there, that evening, they would greatly oblige him. The invitation was
most willingly accepted; and when they were seated over their wine, Mr.
Pickwick, with sundry blushes, produced the following little tale, as
having been 'edited' by himself, during his recent indisposition, from
his notes of Mr. Weller's u