Mr. Tapley, with a comical mixture of delight and chagrin, `where's the credit of a man's being jolly under such circumstances! Who could help it, when things come about like this!'

For some moments Martin stood gazing at him, as if he really doubted the evidence of his senses, and could not believe that Mark stood there, in the body, before him. At length he asked him whether, if the young lady were still in London, he thought he could contrive to deliver a letter to her secretly.

`Do I think I can?' cried Mark. `Think I can? Here, sit down, sir. Write it out, sir!'

With that he cleared the table by the summary process of tilting everything upon it into the fire-place; snatched some writing materials from the mantel-shelf; set Martin's chair before them; forced him down into it; dipped a pen into the ink; and put it in his hand.

`Cut away, sir!' cried Mark. `Make it strong, sir. Let it be wery pinted, sir. Do I think so? I should think so. Go to work, sir!'

Martin required no further adjuration, but went to work at a great rate; while Mr. Tapley, installing himself without any more formalities into the functions of his valet and general attendant, divested himself of his coat, and went on to clear the fire-place and arrange the room; talking to himself in a low voice the whole time.

`Jolly sort of lodgings,' said Mark, rubbing his nose with the knob at the end of the fire-shovel, and looking round the poor chamber: `that's a comfort. The rain's come through the roof too. That an't bad. A lively old bedstead, I'll be bound; popilated by lots of wampires, no doubt. Come! my spirits is a-getting up again. An uncommon ragged nightcap this. A very good sign. We shall do yet! Here, Jane, my dear,' calling down the stairs, `bring up that there hot tumbler for my master as was a-mixing when I come in. That's right, sir,' to Martin. `Go at it as if you meant it, sir. Be very tender, sir, if you please. You can't make it too strong, sir!'


  By PanEris using Melati.

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