yard opened, and a man having emerged therefrom, closed the green

gate very carefully after him, and walked briskly towards the very spot

where Mr Weller was standing.

Now, taking this, as an isolated fact, unaccompanied by any attendant

circumstances, there was nothing very extraordinary in it; because in

many parts of the world men do come out of gardens, close green

gates after them, and even walk briskly away, without attracting any

particular share of public observation. It is clear, therefore, that there

must have been something in the man, or in his manner, or both, to

attract Mr Weller's particular notice. Whether there was, or not, we

must leave the reader to determine, when we have faithfully recorded

the behaviour of the individual in question.

When the man had shut the green gate after him, he walked, as we

have said twice already, with a brisk pace up the courtyard; but he no

sooner caught sight of Mr Weller than he faltered, and stopped, as if

uncertain, for the moment, what course to adopt. As the green gate

was closed behind him, and there was no other outlet but the one in

front, however, he was not long in perceiving that he must pass Mr

Samuel Weller to get away. He therefore resumed his brisk pace, and

advanced, staring straight before him. The most extraordinary thing

about the man was, that he was contorting his face into the most

fearful and astonishing grimaces that ever were beheld. Nature's

handiwork never was disguised with such extraordinary artificial

carving, as the man had overlaid his countenance with in one

moment.

Well!' said Mr Weller to himself, as the man approached. 'This is wery

odd. I could ha' swore it was him.'

Up came the man, and his face became more frightfully distorted than

ever, as he drew nearer.

I could take my oath to that 'ere black hair and mulberry suit,' said

Mr Weller; 'only I never see such a face as that afore.'

As Mr Weller said this, the man's features assumed an unearthly

twinge, perfectly hideous. He was obliged to pass very near Sam,

however, and the scrutinising glance of that gentleman enabled him to

detect, under all these appalling twists of feature, something too like

the small eyes of Mr Job Trotter to be easily mistaken.

Hollo, you Sir!' shouted Sam fiercely.

The stranger stopped.

Hollo!' repeated Sam, still more gruffly.

The Pickwick Papers