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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 278/859
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How
long
this
scene
might
have
lasted
,
or
how
much
Mr
.
Pickwick
might
have
suffered
,
no
one
can
tell
,
had
not
a
carriage
,
which
was
driving
swiftly
by
,
suddenly
pulled
up
,
from
whence
there
descended
old
Wardle
and
Sam
Weller
,
the
former
of
whom
,
in
far
less
time
than
it
takes
to
write
it
,
if
not
to
read
it
,
had
made
his
way
to
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
side
,
and
placed
him
in
the
vehicle
,
just
as
the
latter
had
concluded
the
third
and
last
round
of
a
single
combat
with
the
town
-
beadle
.
‘
Run
to
the
justice
’
s
!
’
cried
a
dozen
voices
.
‘
Ah
,
run
avay
,
’
said
Mr
.
Weller
,
jumping
up
on
the
box
.
‘
Give
my
compliments
—
Mr
.
Veller
’
s
compliments
—
to
the
justice
,
and
tell
him
I
’
ve
spiled
his
beadle
,
and
that
,
if
he
’
ll
swear
in
a
new
’
un
,
I
’
ll
come
back
again
to
-
morrow
and
spile
him
.
Drive
on
,
old
feller
.
’
‘
I
’
ll
give
directions
for
the
commencement
of
an
action
for
false
imprisonment
against
this
Captain
Boldwig
,
directly
I
get
to
London
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
as
soon
as
the
carriage
turned
out
of
the
town
.
‘
We
were
trespassing
,
it
seems
,
’
said
Wardle
.
‘
I
don
’
t
care
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
‘
I
’
ll
bring
the
action
.
’
‘
No
,
you
won
’
t
,
’
said
Wardle
.
‘
I
will
,
by
—
’
But
as
there
was
a
humorous
expression
in
Wardle
’
s
face
,
Mr
Pickwick
checked
himself
,
and
said
,
‘
Why
not
?
’
‘
Because
,
’
said
old
Wardle
,
half
-
bursting
with
laughter
,
‘
because
they
might
turn
on
some
of
us
,
and
say
we
had
taken
too
much
cold
punch
.
’
