The coach rattled through the well-paved streets of a handsome
little town, of thriving and cleanly appearance, and stopped
before a large inn situated in a wide open street, nearly facing the
old abbey.
'And this,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking up. 'Is the Angel! We
alight here, Sam. But some caution is necessary. Order a private
room, and do not mention my name. You understand.'
'Right as a trivet, sir,' replied Mr. Weller, with a wink of
intelligence; and having dragged Mr. Pickwick's portmanteau
from the hind boot, into which it had been hastily thrown when
they joined the coach at Eatanswill, Mr. Weller disappeared on
his errand. A private room was speedily engaged; and into it
Mr. Pickwick was ushered without delay.
'Now, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'the first thing to be done is
to--'
'Order dinner, Sir,' interposed Mr. Weller. 'It's wery late, sir."
'Ah, so it is,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking at his watch. 'You are
right, Sam.'
'And if I might adwise, Sir,' added Mr. Weller, 'I'd just have a
good night's rest arterwards, and not begin inquiring arter this
here deep 'un till the mornin'. There's nothin' so refreshen' as
sleep, sir, as the servant girl said afore she drank the egg-cupful
of laudanum.
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