"Yes," said the barrister's clerk, producing his own box, and offering it with the greatest cordiality; "and the best of it is, that as nobody alive except myself can read the Serjeant's writing, they are obliged to wait for the opinions, when he has given them, till I have copied 'em, ha--ha--ha!""Which makes good for we know who, besides the Serjeant, and draws a little more out of the clients, eh?" said Perker; "Ha, ha, ha!" At this the Serjeant's clerk laughed again; not a noisy boisterous laugh, but a silent, internal chuckle, which Mr.Pickwick disliked to hear.When a man bleeds inwardly, it is a dangerous thing for himself; but when he laughs inwardly, it bodes no good to other people.
"You haven't made me out that little list of the fees that I'm in your debt, have you?" said Perker.
"No, I have not," replied the clerk.
"I wish you would," said Perker."Let me have them, and I'll send you a cheque.But I suppose you're too busy pocketing the ready money, to think of the debtors, eh? ha, ha, ha!" This sally seemed to tickle the clerk amazingly, and he once more enjoyed a little quiet laugh to himself.
"But, Mr.Mallard, my dear friend," said Perker, suddenly recovering his gravity, and drawing the great man's great man into a corner, by the lappel of his coat; "you must persuade the Serjeant to see me, and my client here.""Come, come," said the clerk, "that's not bad either.See the Serjeant!
come, that's too absurd." Notwithstanding the absurdity of the proposal, however, the clerk allowed himself to be gently drawn beyond the hearing of Mr.Pickwick; and after a short conversation conducted in whispers, walked softly down a little dark passage, and disappeared into the legal luminary's sanctum: whence he shortly returned on tiptoe, and informed Mr.Perker and Mr.Pickwick that the Serjeant had been prevailed upon, in violation of all established rules and customs, to admit them at once.
Mr.Serjeant Snubbin was a lantern-faced, sallow-complexioned man, of about five-and-forty, or--as the novels say--he might be fifty.He had that dull-looking boiled eye which is often to be seen in the heads of people who have applied themselves during many years to a weary and laborious course of study; and which would have been sufficient, without the additional eye-glass which dangled from a broad black riband round his neck, to warn a stranger that he was very near-sighted.His hair was thin and weak, which was partly attributable to his having never devoted much time to its arrangement, and partly to his having worn for five-and-twenty years the forensic wig which hung on a block beside him.The marks of hair-powder on his coat-collar, and the ill-washed and worse tied white neckerchief round his throat, showed that he had not found leisure since he left the court to make any alteration in his dress: while the slovenly style of the remainder of his costume warranted the inference that his personal appearance would not have been very much improved if he had.Books of practice, heaps of papers, and opened letters, were scattered over the table, without any attempt at order or arrangement; the furniture of the room was old and rickety; the doors of the book-case were rotting on their hinges; the dust flew out from the carpet in little clouds at every step; the blinds were yellow with age and dirt; the state of everything in the room showed, with a clearness not to be mistaken, that Mr.Serjeant Snubbin was far too much occupied with his professional pursuits to take any great heed or regard of his personal comforts.
The Serjeant was writing when his clients entered; he bowed abstractedly when Mr.Pickwick was introduced by his solicitor; and then, motioning them to a seat, put his pen carefully in the inkstand, nursed his left leg, and waited to be spoken to.
"Mr.Pickwick is the defendant in Bardell and Pickwick, Serjeant Snubbin,"said Perker.
"I am retained in that, am I?" said the Serjeant.
"You are, sir," replied Perker.
The Serjeant nodded his head, and waited for something else.
"Mr.Pickwick was anxious to call upon you, Serjeant Snubbin," said Perker, "to state to you, before you entered upon the case, that he denies there being any ground or pretence whatever for the action against him;and that unless he came into court with clean hands, and without the most conscientious conviction that he was right in resisting the plaintiff's demand, he would not be there at all.I believe I state your views correctly;do I not, my dear sir?" said the little man, turning to Mr.Pickwick.
"Quite so," replied that gentleman.
Mr.Serjeant Snubbin unfolded his glasses, raised them to his eyes;and, after looking at Mr.Pickwick for a few seconds with great curiosity, turned to Mr.Perker, and said, smiling slightly as he spoke:
"Has Mr.Pickwick a strong case?"
The attorney shrugged his shoulders.
"Do you purpose calling witnesses?"
"No."
The smile on the Serjeant's countenance became more defined; he rocked his leg with increased violence; and, throwing himself back in his easy-chair, coughed dubiously.
These tokens of the Serjeant's presentiments on the subject, slight as they were, were not lost on Mr.Pickwick.He settled the spectacles, through which he had attentively regarded such demonstrations of the barrister's feelings as he had permitted himself to exhibit, more firmly on his nose;and said with great energy, and in utter disregard of all Mr.Perker's admonitory winkings and frownings:
