‘Quite right--quite right,’ said the little man. ‘With which view,’ continued Mr. Pickwick, ‘I made use of the argument which my experience of men has taught me is the most likely to succeed in any case.’ ‘Ay, ay,’ said the little man, ‘very good, very good, indeed; but you should have suggested it to me. My dear sir, I’m quite certain you cannot be ignorant of the extent of confidence which must be placed in professional men. If any authority can be necessary on such a point, my dear sir, let me refer you to the well-known case in Barnwell and--’ ‘Never mind George Barnwell,’ interrupted Sam, who had remained a wondering listener during this short colloquy; ‘everybody knows what sort of a case his was, tho’ it’s always been my opinion, mind you, that the young ‘ooman deserved scragging a precious sight more than he did. Hows’ever, that’s neither here nor there. You want me to accept of half a guinea. Wery well, I’m agreeable: I can’t say no fairer than that, can I, sir?’ (Mr. Pickwick smiled.) Then the next question is, what the devil do you want with me, as the man said, wen he see the ghost?’ ‘We want to know--’ said Mr. Wardle. ‘Now, my dear sir--my dear sir,’ interposed the busy little man. Mr. Wardle shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. ‘We want to know,’ said the little man solemnly; ‘and we ask the question of you, in order that we may not awaken apprehensions inside-- we want to know who you’ve got in this house at present?’ ‘Who there is in the house!’ said Sam, in whose mind the inmates were always represented by that particular article of their costume, which came under his immediate superintendence. ‘There’s a vooden leg in number six; there’s a pair of Hessians in thirteen; there’s two pair of halves in the commercial; there’s these here painted tops in the snuggery inside the bar; and five more tops in the coffee-room.’ ‘Nothing more?’ said the little man. ‘Stop a bit,’ replied Sam, suddenly recollecting himself. ‘Yes; there’s a pair of Vellingtons a good deal worn, and a pair o’ lady’s shoes, in number five.’ ‘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.’