e use of these strong
expressions, my dear sir, but there are times when honest indignation
will not be controlled), must you now, vermin and swarmers (for I WILL
repeat it), take advantage of his unprotected state, assemble round
him from all quarters, as wolves and vultures, and other animals of
the feathered tribe assemble round--I will not say round carrion or a
carcass, for Mr Chuzzlewit is quite the contrary--but round their prey;
their prey; to rifle and despoil; gorging their voracious maws, and
staining their offensive beaks, with every description of carnivorous
enjoyment!'

As he stopped to fetch his breath, he waved them off, in a solemn
manner, with his hand.

'Horde of unnatural plunderers and robbers!' he continued; 'leave him!
leave him, I say! Begone! Abscond! You had better be off! Wander over
the face of the earth, young sirs, like vagabonds as you are, and do not
presume to remain in a spot which is hallowed by the grey hairs of the
patriarchal gentleman to whose tottering limbs I have the honour to act
as an unworthy, but I hope an unassuming, prop and staff. And you, my
tender sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, addressing himself in a tone of gentle
remonstrance to the old man, 'how could you ever leave me, though even
for this short period! You have absented yourself, I do not doubt, upon
some act of kindness to me; bless you for it; but you must not do it;
you must not be so venturesome. I should really be angry with you if I
could, my friend!'

He advanced with outstretched arms to take the old man's hand. But he
had not seen how the hand clasped and clutched the stick within its
grasp. As he came smiling on, and got within his reach, old Martin, with
his burning indignation crowded into one vehement burst, and flashing
out of every line and wrinkle in his face, rose up, and struck him down
upon the ground.

With such a well-directed nervous blow, that down he went, as heavily
and true as if the charge of a Life-Guardsman had tumbled him out of a
saddle. And whether he was stunned by the shock, or only confused by the
wonder and novelty of this warm reception, he did not offer to get up
again; but lay there, looking about him with a disconcerted meekness
in his face so enormously ridiculous, that neither Mark Tapley nor John
Westlock could repress a smile, though both were actively interposing to
prevent a repetition of the blow; which the old man's gleaming eyes and
vigorous attitude seemed to rende