here?" asked Tom.

"I don't know. Yes, I do--to America."

_III.--New Eden_

Martin did not go to America alone, for Mark Tapley, formerly of the
Blue Dragon, an inn in the village where Mr. Pecksniff resided, insisted
on accompanying him.

"Now, sir, here am I, without a sitiwation," Mr. Tapley put it, "without
any want of wages for a year to come--for I saved up (I didn't mean to
do it, but I couldn't help it) at the Dragon; here am I with a liking
for what's wentersome, and a liking for you, and a wish to come out
strong under circumstances as would keep other men down--and will you
take me, or will you leave me?"

Once landed in the United States, the question of what to do arose, and
Martin decided to invest his savings in buying land in the rising
township of New Eden.

"Mark, you shall be a partner in the business," said Martin (Mark having
invested L37 to Martin's L8); "an equal partner with myself. We are no
longer master and servant. I will put in, as my additional capital, my
professional knowledge, and half the annual profits, as long as it is
carried on, shall be yours. Our business shall be commenced, as soon as
we get to New Eden, under the name of Chuzzlewit and Tapley."

"Lord love you, sir," cried Mark, "don't have my name in it! I must be
'Co.,' I must."

"You shall have your own way, Mark."

"Thank 'ee sir! If any country gentleman thereabouts in the public way
wanted such a thing as a skittle-ground made, I could take that part of
the bis'ness, sir."

It was a long steamboat journey, but at last they stopped at Eden. The
waters of the Deluge might have left it but a week ago, so choked with
slime and matted growth was the hideous swamp which bore that name.

A man advanced towards them when they landed, walking slowly, leaning on
a stick.

"Strangers!" he exclaimed.

"The very same," said Mark. "How are you, sir?"

"I've had the fever very bad," he answered faintly. "I haven't stood
upright these many weeks. My eldest son has a chill upon him. My
youngest died last week."

"I'm sorry for it, governor, with all my heart!" said Mark. "The goods
is safe enough," he added, turning to Martin, and pointing to their
boxes. "There ain't many people about to make away with 'em. What a
comfort that is!"

"No," cried the man; "we've buried most of 'em. The rest have gone away.
Them that we have here don't come out at night."

"The night air ain't quite wholesome, I suppose?" said Mar