‘Hush, hush,’ said Mr. Nupkins, closing the door. ‘Know him to be what, Sir?’
‘An unprincipled adventurer—a dishonourable character—a man who preys upon society, and makes easily–deceived people his dupes, Sir; his absurd, his foolish, his wretched dupes, Sir,’ said the excited Mr. Pickwick.
‘Dear me,’ said Mr. Nupkins, turning very red, and altering his whole manner directly. ‘Dear me, Mr.—’
‘Pickvick,’ said Sam.
‘Pickwick,’ said the magistrate, ‘dear me, Mr. Pickwick—pray take a seat—you cannot mean this? Captain Fitz–Marshall!’
‘Don’t call him a cap’en,’ said Sam, ‘nor Fitz–Marshall neither; he ain’t neither one nor t’other. He’s a strolling actor, he is, and his name’s Jingle; and if ever there was a wolf in a mulberry suit, that ‘ere Job Trotter’s him.’
‘It is very true, Sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick, replying to the magistrate’s look of amazement; ‘my only business in this town, is to expose the person of whom we now speak.’
Mr. Pickwick proceeded to pour into the horror–stricken ear of Mr. Nupkins, an abridged account of all Mr. Jingle’s atrocities. He related how he had first met him; how he had eloped with Miss Wardle; how he had cheerfully resigned the lady for a pecuniary consideration; how he had entrapped himself into a lady’s boarding–school at midnight; and how he (Mr. Pickwick) now felt it his duty to expose his assumption of his present name and rank.
As the narrative proceeded, all the warm blood in the body of Mr. Nupkins tingled up into the very tips of his ears. He had picked up the captain at a neighbouring race–course. Charmed with his long list of aristocratic acquaintance, his extensive travel, and his fashionable demeanour, Mrs. Nupkins and Miss Nupkins had exhibited Captain Fitz–Marshall, and quoted Captain Fitz–Marshall, and hurled Captain Fitz–Marshall at the devoted heads of their select circle of acquaintance, until their bosom friends, Mrs. Porkenham and the Misses Porkenhams, and Mr. Sidney Porkenham, were ready to burst with jealousy and despair. And now, to hear, after all, that he was a needy adventurer, a strolling player, and if not a swindler, something so very like it, that it was hard to tell the difference! Heavens! what would the Porkenhams say! What would be the triumph of Mr. Sidney Porkenham when he found that his addresses had been slighted for such a rival! How should he, Nupkins, meet the eye of old Porkenham at the next quarter–sessions! And what a handle would it be for the opposition magisterial party if the story got abroad!
‘But after all,’ said Mr. Nupkins, brightening for a moment, after a long pause; ‘after all, this is a mere statement. Captain Fitz–Marshall is a man of very engaging manners, and, I dare say, has many enemies. What proof have you of the truth of these representations?’
‘Confront me with him,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘that is all I ask, and all I require. Confront him with me and my friends here; you will want no further proof.’
‘Why,’ said Mr. Nupkins, ‘that might be very easily done, for he will be here to–night, and then there would be no occasion to make the matter public, just—just—for the young man’s own sake, you know. I—I—should like to consult Mrs. Nupkins on the propriety of the step, in the first instance, though. At all events, Mr. Pickwick, we must despatch this legal business before we can do anything else. Pray step back into the next room.’
Into the next room they went.
‘Grummer,’ said the magistrate, in an awful voice.
‘Your Wash–up,’ replied Grummer, with the smile of a favourite.
‘Come, come, Sir,’ said the magistrate sternly, ‘don’t let me see any of this levity here. It is very unbecoming, and I can assure you that you have very little to smile at. Was the account you gave me just now strictly true? Now be careful, sir!’ ‘Your Wash–up,’ stammered Grummer, ‘I–’
‘Oh, you are confused, are you?’ said the magistrate. ‘Mr. Jinks, you observe this confusion?’
‘Certainly, Sir,’ replied Jinks.
‘Now,’ said the magistrate, ‘repeat your statement, Grummer, and again I warn you to be careful. Mr. Jinks, take his words down.’
The unfortunate Grummer proceeded to re–state his complaint, but, what between Mr. Jinks’s taking down his words, and the magistrate’s taking them up, his natural tendency to rambling, and his extreme confusion, he managed to get involved, in something under three minutes, in such a mass of entanglement and contradiction, that Mr. Nupkins at once declared he didn’t believe him. So the fines were remitted, and Mr. Jinks found a couple of bail in no time. And all these solemn proceedings having been satisfactorily concluded, Mr. Grummer was ignominiously ordered out—an awful instance of the instability of human greatness, and the uncertain tenure of great men’s favour.
Mrs. Nupkins was a majestic female in a pink gauze turban and a light brown wig. Miss Nupkins possessed all her mamma’s haughtiness without the turban, and all her ill–nature without the wig; and whenever the exercise of these two amiable qualities involved mother and daughter in some unpleasant dilemma, as they not infrequently did, they both concurred in laying the blame on the shoulders of Mr. Nupkins. Accordingly, when Mr. Nupkins sought Mrs. Nupkins, and detailed the communication which had been made by Mr. Pickwick, Mrs. Nupkins suddenly recollected that she had always expected something of the kind; that she had always said it would be so; that her advice was never taken; that she really did not know what Mr. Nupkins supposed she was; and so forth.
‘The idea!’ said Miss Nupkins, forcing a tear of very scanty proportions into the corner of each eye; ‘the idea of my being made such a fool of!’
‘Ah! you may thank your papa, my dear,’ said Mrs. Nupkins; ‘how I have implored and begged that man to inquire into the captain’s family connections; how I have urged and entreated him to take some decisive step! I am quite certain nobody would believe it—quite.’
‘But, my dear,’ said Mr. Nupkins.
‘Don’t talk to me, you aggravating thing, don’t!’ said Mrs. Nupkins.
‘My love,’ said Mr. Nupkins, ‘you professed yourself very fond of Captain Fitz–Marshall. You have constantly asked him here, my dear, and you have lost no opportunity of introducing him elsewhere.’
‘Didn’t I say so, Henrietta?’ cried Mrs. Nupkins, appealing to her daughter with the air of a much–injured female. ‘Didn’t I say that your papa would turn round and lay all this at my door? Didn’t I say so?’ Here Mrs. Nupkins sobbed.
‘Oh, pa!’ remonstrated Miss Nupkins. And here she sobbed too.
‘Isn’t it too much, when he has brought all this disgrace and ridicule upon us, to taunt me with being the cause of it?’ exclaimed Mrs. Nupkins.
‘How can we ever show ourselves in society!’ said Miss Nupkins.
‘How can we face the Porkenhams?’ cried Mrs. Nupkins.
‘Or the Griggs!’ cried Miss Nupkins. ‘Or the Slummintowkens!’ cried Mrs. Nupkins. ‘But what does your papa care! What is it to him!’ At this dreadful reflection, Mrs. Nupkins wept mental anguish, and Miss Nupkins followed on the same side.
Mrs. Nupkins’s tears continued to gush forth, with great velocity, until she had gained a little time to think the matter over; when she decided, in her own mind, that the best thing to do would be to ask Mr. Pickwick and his friends to remain until the captain’s arrival, and then to give Mr. Pickwick the opportunity he sought. If it appeared that he had spoken truly, the captain could be turned out of the house without noising the matter abroad, and they could easily account to the Porkenhams for his disappearance, by saying that he had been appointed, through the Court influence