“To-night!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
“This very night, sir,” replied Job Trotter. “That is what alarms me so much.”
“Instant measures must be taken,” said Mr. Pickwick. “I will see the lady who keeps the establishment immediately.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Job, “but that course of proceeding will never do.”
“Why not?” inquired Mr. Pickwick.
“My master, sir, is a very artful man.”
“I know he is,” said Mr. Pickwick.
“And he has so wound himself round the old lady’s heart, sir,” resumed Job, “that she would believe nothing to his prejudice, if you went down on your bare knees, and swore it; especially as you have no proof but the word of a servant, who, for anything she knows (and my master would be sure to say so), was discharged for some fault, and does this in revenge.”
“What had better be done, then?” said Mr. Pickwick.
“Nothing but taking him in the very fact of eloping, will convince the old lady, sir,” replied Job.