England -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Male friendship -- Fiction; Men -- Societies and clubs -- Fiction
‘Excuse me, sir, for making the remark on so short an acquaintance; but
a gentleman like yourself cannot fail, I should think, to have observed
many scenes and incidents worth recording, in the course of your
experience as a minister of the Gospel.’
‘I have witnessed some certainly,’ replied the old gentleman, ‘but the
incidents and characters have been of a homely and ordinary nature, my
sphere of action being so very limited.’
‘You did make some notes, I think, about John Edmunds, did you not?’
inquired Mr. Wardle, who appeared very desirous to draw his friend out,
for the edification of his new visitors.
The old gentleman slightly nodded his head in token of assent, and was
proceeding to change the subject, when Mr. Pickwick said--
‘I beg your pardon, sir, but pray, if I may venture to inquire, who was
John Edmunds?’
‘The very thing I was about to ask,’ said Mr. Snodgrass eagerly.
‘You are fairly in for it,’ said the jolly host. ‘You must satisfy the
curiosity of these gentlemen, sooner or later; so you had better take
advantage of this favourable opportunity, and do so at once.’
The old gentleman smiled good-humouredly as he drew his chair forward--
the remainder of the party drew their chairs closer together, especially
Mr. Tupman and the spinster aunt, who were possibly rather hard of
hearing; and the old lady’s ear-trumpet having been duly adjusted, and
Mr. Miller (who had fallen asleep during the recital of the verses)
roused from his slumbers by an admonitory pinch, administered beneath
the table by his ex-partner the solemn fat man, the old gentleman,
without further preface, commenced the following tale, to which we have
taken the liberty of prefixing the title of
THE CONVICT’S RETURN
‘When I first settled in this village,’ said the old gentleman, ‘which
is now just five-and-twenty years ago, the most notorious person among
my parishioners was a man of the name of Edmunds, who leased a small
farm near this spot. He was a morose, savage-hearted, bad man; idle and
dissolute in his habits; cruel and ferocious in his disposition. Beyond
the few lazy and reckless vagabonds with whom he sauntered away his time
in the fields, or sotted in the ale-house, he had not a single friend or
acquaintance; no one cared to speak to the man whom many feared, and
every one detested--and Edmunds was shunned by all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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