'
'What sort of shoes?' hastily inquired Wardle, who, together
with Mr. Pickwick, had been lost in bewilderment at the singular
catalogue of visitors.
'Country make,' replied Sam.
'Any maker's name?'
'Brown.'
'Where of?'
'Muggleton.
'It is them,' exclaimed Wardle. 'By heavens, we've found them.'
'Hush!' said Sam. 'The Vellingtons has gone to Doctors' Commons.'
'No,' said the little man.
'Yes, for a licence.'
'We're in time,' exclaimed Wardle. 'Show us the room; not a
moment is to be lost.'
'Pray, my dear sir--pray,' said the little man; 'caution,
caution.' He drew from his pocket a red silk purse, and looked
very hard at Sam as he drew out a sovereign.
Sam grinned expressively.
'Show us into the room at once, without announcing us,' said
the little man, 'and it's yours.'
Sam threw the painted tops into a corner, and led the way
through a dark passage, and up a wide staircase. He paused at
the end of a second passage, and held out his hand.
'Here it is,' whispered the attorney, as he deposited the money
on the hand of their guide.
The man stepped forward for a few paces, followed by the two
friends and their legal adviser.
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