Sam,
who, hearing the dispute, emerged from the office, mounted the stairs,
and seized his master by the arm.

'You just come away,' said Mr. Weller. 'Battledore and shuttlecock's
a wery good game, vhen you ain't the shuttlecock and two lawyers the
battledores, in which case it gets too excitin' to be pleasant. Come
avay, Sir. If you want to ease your mind by blowing up somebody, come
out into the court and blow up me; but it's rayther too expensive work
to be carried on here.'

And without the slightest ceremony, Mr. Weller hauled his master down
the stairs, and down the court, and having safely deposited him in
Cornhill, fell behind, prepared to follow whithersoever he should lead.

Mr. Pickwick walked on abstractedly, crossed opposite the Mansion House,
and bent his steps up Cheapside. Sam began to wonder where they were
going, when his master turned round, and said--

'Sam, I will go immediately to Mr. Perker's.'

'That's just exactly the wery place vere you ought to have gone last
night, Sir,' replied Mr. Weller.

'I think it is, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'I KNOW it is,' said Mr.
Weller.

'Well, well, Sam,' replied Mr. Pickwick, 'we will go there at once;
but first, as I have been rather ruffled, I should like a glass of
brandy-and-water warm, Sam. Where can I have it, Sam?'

Mr. Weller's knowledge of London was extensive and peculiar. He replied,
without the slightest consideration--

'Second court on the right hand side--last house but vun on the same
side the vay--take the box as stands in the first fireplace, 'cos there
ain't no leg in the middle o' the table, which all the others has, and
it's wery inconvenient.'

Mr. Pickwick observed his valet's directions implicitly, and bidding
Sam follow him, entered the tavern he had pointed out, where the hot
brandy-and-water was speedily placed before him; while Mr. Weller,
seated at a respectful distance, though at the same table with his
master, was accommodated with a pint of porter.

The room was one of a very homely description, and was apparently under
the especial patronage of stage-coachmen; for several gentleman, who
had all the appearance of belonging to that learned profession, were
drinking and smoking in the different boxes. Among the number was one
stout, red-faced, elderly man, in particular, seated in an opposite box,
who attracted Mr. Pickwick's attention. The stout man was smoking with
great vehemence, but between every half-dozen puffs,