Mr. Tupman especially, when the
door opened, and a somewhat forbidding countenance peeped into the room.
The eyes in the forbidding countenance looked very earnestly at Mr.
Pickwick, for several seconds, and were to all appearance satisfied with
their investigation; for the body to which the forbidding countenance
belonged, slowly brought itself into the apartment, and presented the
form of an elderly individual in top-boots--not to keep the reader any
longer in suspense, in short, the eyes were the wandering eyes of Mr.
Grummer, and the body was the body of the same gentleman.

Mr. Grummer's mode of proceeding was professional, but peculiar. His
first act was to bolt the door on the inside; his second, to polish
his head and countenance very carefully with a cotton handkerchief;
his third, to place his hat, with the cotton handkerchief in it, on the
nearest chair; and his fourth, to produce from the breast-pocket of
his coat a short truncheon, surmounted by a brazen crown, with which he
beckoned to Mr. Pickwick with a grave and ghost-like air.

Mr. Snodgrass was the first to break the astonished silence. He looked
steadily at Mr. Grummer for a brief space, and then said emphatically,
'This is a private room, Sir. A private room.'

Mr. Grummer shook his head, and replied, 'No room's private to his
Majesty when the street door's once passed. That's law. Some people
maintains that an Englishman's house is his castle. That's gammon.'

The Pickwickians gazed on each other with wondering eyes.

'Which is Mr. Tupman?' inquired Mr. Grummer. He had an intuitive
perception of Mr. Pickwick; he knew him at once.

'My name's Tupman,' said that gentleman.

'My name's Law,' said Mr. Grummer.

'What?' said Mr. Tupman.

'Law,' replied Mr. Grummer--'Law, civil power, and exekative; them's my
titles; here's my authority. Blank Tupman, blank Pickwick--against
the peace of our sufferin' lord the king--stattit in the case made
and purwided--and all regular. I apprehend you Pickwick! Tupman--the
aforesaid.'

'What do you mean by this insolence?' said Mr. Tupman, starting up;
'leave the room!'

'Hollo,' said Mr. Grummer, retreating very expeditiously to the door,
and opening it an inch or two, 'Dubbley.'

'Well,' said a deep voice from the passage.

'Come for'ard, Dubbley.'

At the word of command, a dirty-faced man, something over six feet high,
and stout in proportion, squeezed himself through the half-open door
(making hi