"The postboy was driving briskly through the open streets and past the handsome and well-lighted shops which intervene between the outskirts of the town and the Royal Hotel, before Mr. Pickwick had begun to consider the very difficult and delicate nature of the commission which had carried him thither." The difficulty and delicacy mentioned referred to the presence of Bob Sawyer and Ben Allen, whom Mr. Pickwick for certain reasons wished miles away, but he hoped to surmount them by making his interview with Mr. Winkle, senior, as brief as possible. [illustration: The "Hop Pole," Tewkeabury, as it was in Pickwickian days. Drawn by Arch. Webb] As he comforted himself with these reflections the chaise stopped at the door of the "Old Royal," and the visitors were shown to comfortable apartments. Mr. Pickwick immediately made enquiries of the waiter concerning the whereabouts of Mr. Winkle's residence, who was one not easily to be got the better of, as the following dialogue will show: "'Close by, sir,' said the waiter, 'not above five hundred yards, sir. Mr. Winkle is a wharfinger, sir, at the canal, sir. Private residence is not--oh dear no, sir, not five hundred yards, sir.' Here the waiter blew a candle out and made a feint of lighting it again, in order to afford Mr. Pickwick an opportunity of asking any further questions, if he felt so disposed. "'Take anything now, sir?' said the waiter, lighting the candle in desperation at Mr. Pickwick's silence. 'Tea or coffee, sir? Dinner, sir?' "'Nothing now.' "'Very good, sir. Like to order supper, sir?' "'Not just now.' "' Very good, sir.' Here he walked softly to the door, and then stopping short, turned round and said with great suavity: "'Shall I send the chambermaid, gentlemen?' "'You may if you please,' replied Mr. Pickwick. "'If you please, sir.' "'Bring some soda water,' said Bob Sawyer. "'Soda water, sir? Yes, sir.' And with his mind apparently relieved from an overwhelming weight by having at last got an order for something, the waiter imperceptibly melted away. Waiters never walk or run. They have a peculiar and mysterious power of skimming out of rooms, which other mortals possess not." Eventually Mr. Pickwick and his friends arrived safely at the house of Mr. Winkle, and, having concluded the interview, all three returned to the hotel and went "silent and supperless to bed."