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 whither-soever 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 an’t no leg in the middle o’ the table, wich all the others has, and its wery inconwenient.”
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.