“Little to do, and plenty to get, I suppose?” said Sergeant Buzfuz.

“Oh, quite enough to get, sir, as the soldier said ven they ordered him three hundred and fifty lashes,” replied Sam.

“You must not tell us what the soldier said,” interposed the judge, “it’s not evidence.”

“Wery good, my lord.”

“Now, Mr. Weller,” said Sergeant Buzfuz, “do you recollect anything particular happening on the morning when you were first engaged by the defendant?”

“Yes, I do, sir.  I had a reg’lar new fit-out o’ clothes that mornin’, and that was a wery partickler and uncommon circumstance vith me in those days.”

“Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Weller, that you saw nothing of the fainting of the plaintiff in the arms of the defendant?”

“Certainly not; I was in the passage till they called me up, and then the old lady wasn’t there.”

“Have you a pair of eyes, Mr. Weller?”

“Yes, that’s just it,” replied Sam.  “If they was a pair o’ patent double million magnifyin’ gas microscopes of hextra power, p’raps I might be able to see through a flight o’ stairs and a deal door, but bein’ only eyes, you see, my wision’s limited.”

“Do you remember going up to Mrs. Bardell’s house one night last November?  I suppose you went to have a little talk about this trial, eh, Mr. Weller?” said Sergeant Buzfuz, looking knowingly at the jury.

“I went up to pay the rent,” said Sam; “but the ladies gets into a wery great state of admiration at the honourable conduct o’ Mr. Dodson and Fogg, and said what a wery gen’rous thing it was o’ them to have taken up the case on spec., and to have charged nothin’ at all for costs, unless they got ’em out of Mr. Pickwick.”

At this very unexpected reply the spectators tittered, and Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz said curtly, “Stand down, sir.”

Sergeant Snubbin then addressed the jury on behalf of the defendant, and after that Mr. Justice Stareleigh summed up.

At the end of a quarter of an hour the jury brought in a verdict for the plaintiff with L750 damages.

In the court-room Mr. Pickwick encountered Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, rubbing their hands with satisfaction.

“Not one farthing of costs or damages do you ever get out of me, if I spend the rest of my existence in a debtor’s prison,” said Mr. Pickwick.

“We shall see about that,” said Mr. Fogg grinning.

Outside Mr. Pickwick and his friends made their way to a hackney coach, and Sam Weller was just preparing to jump upon the box when his father stood before him.  The old gentleman shook his head gravely and said in warning accents, “I know’d what ‘ud come o’ this here mode o’ doin’ bisness.  Oh, Sammy, Sammy, vy worn’t there a alleybi?”

“But surely, my dear sir,” said Perker to his client the following morning, “you don’t really mean, seriously now, that you won’t pay these costs and damages?”