‘Well, gentlemen,’ said Mr. Pell, ‘all I can say is, that such marks of confidence must be very gratifying to a professional man. I don’t wish to say anything that might appear egotistical, gentlemen, but I’m very glad, for your own sakes, that you came to me; that’s all. If you had gone to any low member of the profession, it’s my firm conviction, and I assure you of it as a fact, that you would have found yourselves in Queer Street before this. I could have wished my noble friend had been alive to have seen my management of this case. I don’t say it out of pride, but I think—However, gentlemen, I won’t trouble you with that. I’m generally to be found here, gentlemen, but if I’m not here, or over the way, that’s my address. You’ll find my terms very cheap and reasonable, and no man attends more to his clients than I do, and I hope I know a little of my profession besides. If you have any opportunity of recommending me to any of your friends, gentlemen, I shall be very much obliged to you, and so will they too, when they come to know me. Your healths, gentlemen.’
With this expression of his feelings, Mr. Solomon Pell laid three small written cards before Mr. Weller’s friends, and, looking at the clock again, feared it was time to be walking. Upon this hint Mr. Weller settled the bill, and, issuing forth, the executor, legatee, attorney, and umpires, directed their steps towards the city.
The office of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, of the Stock Exchange, was in a first floor up a court behind the Bank of England; the house of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was at Brixton, Surrey; the horse and stanhope of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, were at an adjacent livery stable; the groom of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was on his way to the West End to deliver some game; the clerk of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, had gone to his dinner; and so Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, himself, cried, ‘Come in,’ when Mr. Pell and his companions knocked at the counting–house door.
‘Good–morning, Sir,’ said Pell, bowing obsequiously. ‘We want to make a little transfer, if you please.’
‘Oh, just come in, will you?’ said Mr. Flasher. ‘Sit down a minute; I’ll attend to you directly.’
‘Thank you, Sir,’ said Pell, ‘there’s no hurry. Take a chair, Mr. Weller.’
Mr. Weller took a chair, and Sam took a box, and the umpires took what they could get, and looked at the almanac and one or two papers which were wafered against the wall, with as much open–eyed reverence as if they had been the finest efforts of the old masters.
‘Well, I’ll bet you half a dozen of claret on it; come!’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, resuming the conversation to which Mr. Pell’s entrance had caused a momentary interruption.
This was addressed to a very smart young gentleman who wore his hat on his right whisker, and was lounging over the desk, killing flies with a ruler. Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was balancing himself on two legs of an office stool, spearing a wafer–box with a penknife, which he dropped every now and then with great dexterity into the very centre of a small red wafer that was stuck outside. Both gentlemen had very open waistcoats and very rolling collars, and very small boots, and very big rings, and very little watches, and very large guard–chains, and symmetrical inexpressibles, and scented pocket–handkerchiefs.
‘I never bet half a dozen!’ said the other gentleman. ‘I’ll take a dozen.’
‘Done, Simmery, done!’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.
‘P. P., mind,’ observed the other.
‘Of course,’ replied Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, entered it in a little book, with a gold pencil–case, and the other gentleman entered it also, in another little book with another gold pencil–case.
‘I see there’s a notice up this morning about Boffer,’ observed Mr. Simmery. ‘Poor devil, he’s expelled the house!’
‘I’ll bet you ten guineas to five, he cuts his throat,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.
‘Done,’ replied Mr. Simmery.
‘Stop! I bar,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps he may hang himself.’
‘Very good,’ rejoined Mr. Simmery, pulling out the gold pencil–case again. ‘I’ve no objection to take you that way. Say, makes away with himself.’
‘Kills himself, in fact,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.
‘Just so,’ replied Mr. Simmery, putting it down. ‘“Flasher—ten guineas to five, Boffer kills himself.” Within what time shall we say?’
‘A fortnight?’ suggested Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.
‘Con–found it, no,’ rejoined Mr. Simmery, stopping for an instant to smash a fly with the ruler. ‘Say a week.’
‘Split the difference,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. ‘Make it ten days.’
‘Well; ten days,‘rejoined Mr. Simmery.
So it was entered down on the little books that Boffer was to kill himself within ten days, or Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was to hand over to Frank Simmery, Esquire, the sum of ten guineas; and that if Boffer did kill himself within that time, Frank Simmery, Esquire, would pay to Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, five guineas, instead.
‘I’m very sorry he has failed,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. ‘Capital dinners he gave.’
‘Fine port he had too,’ remarked Mr. Simmery. ‘We are going to send our butler to the sale to–morrow, to pick up some of that sixty–four.’
‘The devil you are!’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. ‘My man’s going too. Five guineas my man outbids your man.’
‘Done.’
Another entry was made in the little books, with the gold pencil–cases; and Mr. Simmery, having by this time killed all the flies and taken all the bets, strolled away to the Stock Exchange to see what was going forward.
Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, now condescended to receive Mr. Solomon Pell’s instructions, and having filled up some printed forms, requested the party to follow him to the bank, which they did: Mr. Weller and his three friends staring at all they beheld in unbounded astonishment, and Sam encountering everything with a coolness which nothing could disturb.
Crossing a courtyard which was all noise and bustle, and passing a couple of porters who seemed dressed to match the red fire engine which was wheeled away into a corner, they passed into an office where their business was to be transacted, and where Pell and Mr. Flasher left them standing for a few moments, while they went upstairs into the Will Office.
‘Wot place is this here?’ whispered the mottled–faced gentleman to the elder Mr. Weller.
‘Counsel’s Office,’ replied the executor in a whisper.
‘Wot are them gen’l’men a–settin’ behind the counters?’ asked the hoarse coachman.
‘Reduced counsels, I s’pose,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘Ain’t they the reduced counsels, Samivel?’
‘Wy, you don’t suppose the reduced counsels is alive, do you?’ inquired Sam, with some disdain.
‘How should I know?’ retorted Mr. Weller; ‘I thought they looked wery like it. Wot are they, then?’
‘Clerks,’ replied Sam.
‘Wot are they all a–eatin’ ham sangwidges for?’ inquired his father.
‘‘Cos it’s in their dooty, I suppose,’ replied Sam, ‘it’s a part o’ the system; they’re alvays a–doin’ it here, all day long!’ Mr. Weller and his friends had scarcely had a moment to reflect upon this singular regulation as connected with the monetary system of the country, when they were rejoined by Pell and Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, who led them to a part of the counter above which was a round blackboard with a large ‘W.’ on it.
‘Wot’s that