Mr. Bumble sat himself down; quite confounded by the oddity of Mr. Grimwig’s manner. Mr. Brownlow moved the lamp, so as to obtain an uninterrupted view of the beadle’s countenance; and said, with a little impatience,
“Now, sir, you come in consequence of having seen the advertisement?”
“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Bumble.
“And you are a beadle, are you not?” inquired Mr. Grimwig.
“I am a porochial beadle, gentlemen,” rejoined Mr. Bumble proudly.
“Of course,” observed Mr. Grimwig aside to his friend, “I knew he was. A beadle all over!”
Mr. Brownlow gently shook his head to impose silence on his friend, and resumed:
“Do you know where this poor boy is now?”
“No more than nobody,” replied Mr. Bumble.
“Well, what do you know of him?” inquired the old gentleman. “Speak out, my friend, if you have anything to say. What do you know of him?”