Mr. Venus expressed his acknowledgments and accepted the invitation.
“It’s wonderful what’s been hid, at one time and another,” said Mr. Boffin, ruminating; “truly wonderful.”
“Meaning sir,” observed Wegg, with a propitiatory face to draw him out, and with another peg at his friend and brother, “in the way of money?”
“Money,” said Mr. Boffin. “Ah! And papers.”
Mr. Wegg, in a languid transport, again dropped over on Mr. Venus, and again recovering himself, masked his emotions with a sneeze.
“Tish-ho! Did you say papers too, sir? Been hidden, sir?”
“Hidden and forgot,” said Mr. Boffin. “Why the bookseller that sold me the Wonderful Museum —where’s the Wonderful Museum ?” He was on his knees on the floor in a moment, groping eagerly among the books.
“Can I assist you, sir?” asked Wegg.
“No, I have got it; here it is,” said Mr. Boffin, dusting it with the sleeve of his coat. “Wollume four. I know it was the fourth wollume, that the bookseller read it to me out of. Look for it, Wegg.”
Silas took the book and turned the leaves.
“Remarkable petrefaction, sir?”
“No, that’s not it,” said Mr. Boffin. “It can’t have been a petrefaction.”
“Memoirs of General John Reid, commonly called The Walking Rushlight, sir? With portrait?”