“Is that you, Sam?” inquired Mr. Winkle, springing out of bed.
“Quite unpossible to identify any gen’l’m’n vith any degree o’ mental satisfaction, vithout lookin’ at him, sir,” replied the voice, dogmatically.
Mr. Winkle, not much doubting who the young man was, unlocked the door; which he had no sooner done, than Mr. Samuel Weller entered with great precipitation, and carefully re-locking it on the inside, deliberately put the key in his waistcoat pocket: and, after surveying Mr. Winkle from head to foot, said:
“You’re a wery humorous young gen’l’m’n, you air, sir!”
“What do you mean by this conduct, Sam?” inquired Mr. Winkle, indignantly. “Get out, sir, this instant. What do you mean, sir?”
“What do I mean,” retorted Sam; “come, sir, this is rayther too rich, as the young lady said, ven she remonstrated with the pastry-cook, arter he’d sold her a pork-pie as had got nothin’ but fat inside. What do I mean! Well, that ain’t a bad un, that ain’t.”
“Unlock that door, and leave this room immediately, sir,” said Mr. Winkle.
“I shall leave this here room, sir, just precisely at the wery same moment as you leaves it,” responded Sam, speaking in a forcible manner, and seating himself with perfect gravity. “If I find it necessary to carry you away, pick-a-back, o’ course I shall leave it the least bit o’ time possible afore you; but allow me to express a hope as you won’t reduce me to extremities; in saying vich, I merely quote wot the nobleman said to the fractious pennywinkle, ven he vouldn’t come out of his shell by means of a pin, and he conseqvently began to be afeared that he should be obliged to crack him in the parlour door.” At the end of this address, which was unusually lengthy for him, Mr. Weller planted his hands on his knees, and looked full in Mr. Winkle’s face, with an expression of countenance that showed that he had not the remotest intention of being trifled with.
“You’re a amiably disposed young man, sir, I don’t think,” resumed Mr. Weller, in a tone of moral reproof, “to go inwolving our precious governor in all sorts o’ fanteegs, ven he’s made up his mind to go through everythink for principle. You’re far worse nor Dodson, sir; and as for Fogg, I consider him a born angel to you!” Mr. Weller having accompanied this last sentiment with an emphatic slap on each knee, folded his arms with a look of great disgust, and threw himself back in his chair, as if awaiting the criminal’s defence.