Martin made a stride forward at these words, and Mr. Pecksniff stepped back so hastily that he missed his footing, tumbled over a chair, and fell in a sitting posture on the ground, where he remained, perhaps considering it the safest place. "Look at him, Pinch," said Martin, "as he lies there--a cloth for dirty hands, a mat for dirty feet, a lying, fawning, servile hound! And, mark me, Pinch, the day will come when even you will find him out!" He pointed at him as he spoke with unutterable contempt, and flinging his hat upon his head, walked from the house. He went on so rapidly that he was clear of the village before Tom Pinch overtook him. "Are you going?" cried Tom. "Yes," he answered sternly, "I am." "Where?" asked Tom. "I don't know. Yes, I do--to America." _III.--New Eden_ Martin did not go to America alone, for Mark Tapley, formerly of the Blue Dragon, an inn in the village where Mr. Pecksniff resided, insisted on accompanying him. "Now, sir, here am I, without a sitiwation," Mr. Tapley put it, "without any want of wages for a year to come--for I saved up (I didn't mean to do it, but I couldn't help it) at the Dragon; here am I with a liking for what's wentersome, and a liking for you, and a wish to come out strong under circumstances as would keep other men down--and will you take me, or will you leave me?" Once landed in the United States, the question of what to do arose, and Martin decided to invest his savings in buying land in the rising township of New Eden. "Mark, you shall be a partner in the business," said Martin (Mark having invested £37 to Martin's £8); "an equal partner with myself. We are no longer master and servant. I will put in, as my additional capital, my professional knowledge, and half the annual profits, as long as it is carried on, shall be yours. Our business shall be commenced, as soon as we get to New Eden, under the name of Chuzzlewit and Tapley." "Lord love you, sir," cried Mark, "don't have my name in it! I must be 'Co.,' I must." "You shall have your own way, Mark." "Thank 'ee sir! If any country gentleman thereabouts in the public way wanted such a thing as a skittle-ground made, I could take that part of the bis'ness, sir." It was a long steamboat journey, but at last they stopped at Eden. The waters of the Deluge might have left it but a week ago, so choked with slime and matted growth was the hideous swamp which bore that name. A man advanced towards them when they landed, walking slowly, leaning on a stick. "Strangers!" he exclaimed. "The very same," said Mark. "How are you, sir?" "I've had the fever very bad," he answered faintly. "I haven't stood upright these many weeks. My eldest son has a chill upon him. My youngest died last week." "I'm sorry for it, governor, with all my heart!" said Mark. "The goods is safe enough," he added, turning to Martin, and pointing to their boxes. "There ain't many people about to make away with 'em. What a comfort that is!"