cathedral too--earthy smell--pilgrims' feet wore away the old
steps--little Saxon doors--confessionals like money-takers'
boxes at theatres--queer customers those monks--popes, and
lord treasurers, and all sorts of old fellows, with great red faces,
and broken noses, turning up every day--buff jerkins too--
match-locks--sarcophagus--fine place--old legends too--strange
stories: capital;' and the stranger continued to soliloquise until
they reached the Bull Inn, in the High Street, where the coach stopped.

'Do you remain here, Sir?' inquired Mr. Nathaniel Winkle.

'Here--not I--but you'd better--good house--nice beds--
Wright's next house, dear--very dear--half-a-crown in the bill if
you look at the waiter--charge you more if you dine at a friend's
than they would if you dined in the coffee-room--rum fellows--very.'

Mr. Winkle turned to Mr. Pickwick, and murmured a few
words; a whisper passed from Mr. Pickwick to Mr. Snodgrass,
from Mr. Snodgrass to Mr. Tupman, and nods of assent were
exchanged. Mr. Pickwick addressed the stranger.

'You rendered us a very important service this morning, sir,'
said he, 'will you allow us to offer a slight mark of our gratitude
by begging the favour of your company at dinner?'

'Great pleasure--not presume to dictate, but broiled fowl and
mushrooms--capital thing! What time?'

'Let me see,' replied Mr. Pickwick, referring to his watch, 'it is
now nearly three. Shall we say five?'