Mr. Pickwick bestowed a look of excessive disgust on his unwelcome visitor, and would probably have hurled some tremendous anathema at the heads of Messrs. Dodson & Fogg, had not Sam’s entrance at the instant interrupted him. ‘Samuel Weller?’ said Mr. Jackson, inquiringly. ‘Vun o’ the truest things as you’ve said for many a long year,’ replied Sam, in a most composed manner. ‘Here’s a subpoena for you, Mr. Weller,’ said Jackson. ‘What’s that in English?’ inquired Sam. ‘Here’s the original,’ said Jackson, declining the required explanation. ‘Which?’ said Sam. ‘This,’ replied Jackson, shaking the parchment. ‘Oh, that’s the ‘rig’nal, is it?’ said Sam. ‘Well, I’m wery glad I’ve seen the ‘rig’nal, ‘cos it’s a gratifyin’ sort o’ thing, and eases vun’s mind so much.’ ‘And here’s the shilling,’ said Jackson. ‘It’s from Dodson and Fogg’s.’ ‘And it’s uncommon handsome o’ Dodson and Fogg, as knows so little of me, to come down vith a present,’ said Sam. ‘I feel it as a wery high compliment, sir; it’s a wery honorable thing to them, as they knows how to reward merit werever they meets it. Besides which, it’s affectin’ to one’s feelin’s.’ As Mr. Weller said this, he inflicted a little friction on his right eyelid, with the sleeve of his coat, after the most approved manner of actors when they are in domestic pathetics. Mr. Jackson seemed rather puzzled by Sam’s proceedings; but, as he had served the subpoenas, and had nothing more to say, he made a feint of putting on the one glove which he usually carried in his hand, for the sake of appearances; and returned to the office to report progress. Mr. Pickwick slept little that night; his memory had received a very disagreeable refresher on the subject of Mrs. Bardell’s action. He breakfasted betimes next morning, and, desiring Sam to accompany him, set forth towards Gray’s Inn Square. ‘Sam!’ said Mr. Pickwick, looking round, when they got to the end of Cheapside. ‘Sir?’ said Sam, stepping up to his master. ‘Which way?’ Up Newgate Street.’ Mr. Pickwick did not turn round immediately, but looked vacantly in Sam’s face for a few seconds, and heaved a deep sigh. ‘What’s the matter, sir?’ inquired Sam. ‘This action, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘is expected to come on, on the fourteenth of next month.’ Remarkable coincidence that ‘ere, sir,’ replied Sam. ‘Why remarkable, Sam?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick. ‘Walentine’s day, sir,’ responded Sam; ‘reg’lar good day for a breach o’ promise trial.’ Mr. Weller’s smile awakened no gleam of mirth in his master’s countenance. Mr. Pickwick turned abruptly round, and led the way in silence.