This last was an ejaculation of irrepressible astonishment, occasioned by seeing Mr. Pickwick, in his enthusiasm for discovery, fall on his knees before the little stone, and commence wiping the dust off it with his pocket-handkerchief.

“There is an inscription here,” said Mr. Pickwick.

“Is it possible?” said Mr. Tupman.

“I can discern,” continued Mr. Pickwick, rubbing away with all his might, and gazing intently through his spectacles⁠—“I can discern a cross, and a 13, and then a T. This is important,” continued Mr. Pickwick, starting up. “This is some very old inscription, existing perhaps long before the ancient alms-houses in this place. It must not be lost.”