upman admitted the fact.

'Now, sir,' said the doctor to the stranger, 'I ask you once again,
in the presence of these gentlemen, whether you choose to give me your
card, and to receive the treatment of a gentleman; or whether you impose
upon me the necessity of personally chastising you on the spot?'

'Stay, sir,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'I really cannot allow this matter to
go any further without some explanation. Tupman, recount the
circumstances.'

Mr. Tupman, thus solemnly adjured, stated the case in a few words;
touched slightly on the borrowing of the coat; expatiated largely on its
having been done 'after dinner'; wound up with a little penitence on his
own account; and left the stranger to clear himself as best he could.

He was apparently about to proceed to do so, when Lieutenant Tappleton,
who had been eyeing him with great curiosity, said with considerable
scorn, 'Haven't I seen you at the theatre, Sir?'

'Certainly,' replied the unabashed stranger.

'He is a strolling actor!' said the lieutenant contemptuously, turning
to Doctor Slammer.--'He acts in the piece that the officers of the 52nd
get up at the Rochester Theatre to-morrow night. You cannot proceed in
this affair, Slammer--impossible!'

'Quite!' said the dignified Payne.

'Sorry to have placed you in this disagreeable situation,' said
Lieutenant Tappleton, addressing Mr. Pickwick; 'allow me to suggest,
that the best way of avoiding a recurrence of such scenes in future will
be to be more select in the choice of your companions. Good-evening,
Sir!' and the lieutenant bounced out of the room.

'And allow me to say, Sir,' said the irascible Doctor Payne, 'that if I
had been Tappleton, or if I had been Slammer, I would have pulled
your nose, Sir, and the nose of every man in this company. I would,
sir--every man. Payne is my name, sir--Doctor Payne of the 43rd.
Good-evening, Sir.' Having concluded this speech, and uttered the last
three words in a loud key, he stalked majestically after his friend,
closely followed by Doctor Slammer, who said nothing, but contented
himself by withering the company with a look. Rising rage and extreme
bewilderment had swelled the noble breast of Mr. Pickwick, almost to the
bursting of his waistcoat, during the delivery of the above defiance. He
stood transfixed to the spot, gazing on vacancy. The closing of the door
recalled him to himself. He rushed forward with fury in his looks, and
fire in his eye. His hand was