‘Have you got your vind back agin, Sir,’ inquired Sam, when they had reached the end.
‘Quite. Quite, now,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘Then come along, Sir,’ said Sam, setting his master on his feet again. ‘Come betveen us, sir. Not half a mile to run. Think you’re vinnin’ a cup, sir. Now for it.’
Thus encouraged, Mr. Pickwick made the very best use of his legs. It may be confidently stated that a pair of black gaiters never got over the ground in better style than did those of Mr. Pickwick on this memorable occasion.
The coach was waiting, the horses were fresh, the roads were good, and the driver was willing. The whole party arrived in safety at the Bush before Mr. Pickwick had recovered his breath.
‘In with you at once, sir,’ said Sam, as he helped his master out. ‘Don’t stop a second in the street, arter that ‘ere exercise. Beg your pardon, sir,’ continued Sam, touching his hat as Mr. Winkle descended, ‘hope there warn’t a priory ‘tachment, sir?’
Mr. Winkle grasped his humble friend by the hand, and whispered in his ear, ‘It’s all right, Sam; quite right.’ Upon which Mr. Weller struck three distinct blows upon his nose in token of intelligence, smiled, winked, and proceeded to put the steps up, with a countenance expressive of lively satisfaction.
As to the scientific gentleman, he demonstrated, in a masterly treatise, that these wonderful lights were the effect of electricity; and clearly proved the same by detailing how a flash of fire danced before his eyes when he put his head out of the gate, and how he received a shock which stunned him for a quarter of an hour afterwards; which demonstration delighted all the scientific associations beyond measure, and caused him to be considered a light of science ever afterwards.