All further inquiries were superseded by the appearance of old Wardle, who, running upstairs and just recognising Lowten, passed at once into Mr. Perker’s room.

“Pickwick!” said the old gentleman. “Your hand, my boy! Why have I never heard until the day before yesterday of your suffering yourself to be cooped up in jail? And why did you let him do it, Perker?”

“I couldn’t help it, my dear Sir,” replied Perker, with a smile and a pinch of snuff; “you know how obstinate he is?”

“Of course I do; of course I do,” replied the old gentleman. “I am heartily glad to see him, notwithstanding. I will not lose sight of him again, in a hurry.”

With these words, Wardle shook Mr. Pickwick’s hand once more, and, having done the same by Perker, threw himself into an armchair, his jolly red face shining again with smiles and health.