I shall
have the enjoyment of testing your milk-punch to-morrow night at
nine, with the confident expectation that your admirable studies
will have overcome a tendency which for many years has prevented me
from relishing, as I could wish, one of the best things in this
good world. Lemon, in fact, has always disagreed with me, as
Professor Allen or Sir Robert Sawyer will be able to assure you; so
your valuable experiment can be put, in my case, to a crucial
test.--Very faithfully yours,
SAMUEL PICKWICK.
From Inspector Bucket to M. Lecoq.
May 26, 1 A.M.
My Dear Sir,--We have taken your man without difficulty. Bald,
benevolent-looking, stout, perhaps fancies himself like Napoleon;
if so, is deceived. We nabbed him asleep over his liquor and
alone, at the address you meant to give, 5 Forest Road, St. John's
Wood. The house was empty, servants out, not a soul but him at
home. He speaks English well for a foreigner, and tries to make
out he is a British subject. Was rather confused when took, and
kept ejaculating "Cold Punch," apparently with the hope of
persuading us that such was his name or alias. He also called for
one Sam--probably an accomplice. He travels to Calais to-day as a
lunatic patient in a strait-waistcoat, under charge of four
"keepers" belonging to the force; and I trust that you have made
preparations for receiving your prisoner, and that our management
of the case has given satisfaction.
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