“Law,” replied Mr. Grummer, “law, civil power, and exekative; them’s my titles; here’s my authority. Blank Tupman, blank Pickvick—against the peace of our sufferin Lord the King—stattit in that case made and purwided—and all regular. I apprehend you Pickvick! Tupman—the aforesaid.”
“What do you mean by this insolence?” said Mr. Tupman, starting up. “Leave the room!”
“Halloo,” 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 his face very red in the process), and entered the room.
“Is the other specials outside, Dubbley?” inquired Mr. Grummer.
Mr. Dubbley, who was a man of few words, nodded assent.
“Order in the diwision under your charge, Dubbley,” said Mr. Grummer.