“Not a glass of wine,” said the Countess.
“Not one, Mr. Bumpkin!” urged Lady Flora.
Mr. Bumpkin had risen, and was angry: he was startled at his name being known: he looked to Horatio, hoping some explanation might come; but the pale youth had his back to him, and was preparing to leave the Hall. There were many curious eyes looking at them, and there was much laughter. Mr. Bumpkin’s appearance would alone have been sufficient to cause this: but his mind was to be farther enlightened as to the meaning of this extraordinary scene; and it happened in this wise. As he was proceeding between the rows of people, followed closely by those illustrious members of the aristocracy, the Countess and Lady
Flora; while the waiters grinned and the people laughed, his eye caught sight of an object away over the front seat, which formed a right angle with the one he had been occupying; it was an object unattractive in itself but which, under the circumstances, fixed and riveted his attention; that object was Snooks, in the corner of the third row, with his sawpit mouth on the broadest grin.
CHAPTER XXXV.
The trial.
Who shall describe the feelings of joy which animated the breast of Mr. Bumpkin when at last, with the suddenness of lightning, Mr. Prigg’s clerk flashed into his little parlour the intelligence, “Case in paper; be at Court by ten o’clock; Bail Court.” Such was the telegram which Mr. Bumpkin got his landlady to read on that pleasant evening towards the end of July. The far-seeing Prigg was right. It would come on about the end of July. That is what he had predicted. But it would not have been safe for Mr. Bumpkin to be away from town for a single day. It might have been in the paper at any moment; and here it was, just as he was beginning to get tired of “Camden Town and the whole thing.”
Mr. Bumpkin put on a clean shirt, with a good stiff high collar, which he had reserved from Mrs. Bumpkin’s wash; for, in his opinion, there was no stiffening in the London starch, and no getting up like Mrs. Bumpkin’s. He put on his best neckerchief, and a bran new waistcoat which he had bought for Sundays six years ago at the market town. He put on his drab coat with the long tails, which he had worn on the day of his marriage, and had kept for his best ever since; he put on his velvety
looking corduroy trowsers and his best lace-up watertight boots; and then, after a good breakfast, put on his white beaver hat, took his ash-stick, and got into a Westminster ‘Bus. What a beautiful morning it was! Just the morning for a law suit! Down he got at Palace Yard, walked towards the spacious door of the old hall, entered its shadowy precincts, and then, in my dream, I lost sight of him as he mingled with the crowd. But I saw some few moments after in the Bail Court enter, amidst profound silence and with impressive dignity, Mr. Justice Stedfast. Let me here inform the reader that if by any chance, say by settlement, postponement or otherwise, the first case in the list “goes off,” as it is called (from its bearing a striking resemblance to the unexpected going off of a gun), and the parties in the next case, taken by surprise, are not there at the moment, that case goes off by being struck out; and very often the next and the next, and so on to the end of the list. Parties therefore should be ready, so as to prevent a waste of time. The time of the Court is not to be wasted by parties not being ready. Now, strangely enough, this is what happened in the case of Bumpkin v. Snooks. Being number eight, no one thought it would be reached; and the leading counsel, and also the junior counsel being engaged elsewhere; and Mr. Prigg and Mr. Prigg’s clerk not having arrived; and Mr. Bumpkin not knowing his way; at five minutes after the sitting of the Court, so expeditious are our legal proceedings, the celebrated case was actually reached, and this is what took place:
“Are the parties ready?” inquired his Lordship.