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                                     A R K
 
Mr. Pickwick's eyes sparkled with delight, as he sat and gloated over the
treasure he had discovered. He had attained one of the greatest objects of his
ambition. In a county known to abound in remains of the early ages; in a village
in which there still existed some memorials of the olden time, he - he, the
Chairman of the Pickwick Club - had discovered a strange and curious inscription
of unquestionable antiquity, which had wholly escaped the observation of the
many learned men who had preceded him. He could hardly trust the evidence of his
senses.
    »This - this,« said he, »determines me. We return to town, to-morrow.«
    »To-morrow!« exclaimed his admiring followers.
    »To-morrow,« said Mr. Pickwick. »This treasure must be at once deposited
where it can be thoroughly investigated, and properly understood. I have another
reason for this step. In a few days, an election is to take place for the
borough of Eatanswill, at which Mr. Perker, a gentleman whom I lately met, is
the agent of one of the candidates. We will behold, and minutely examine, a
scene so interesting to every Englishman.«
    »We will,« was the animated cry of three voices.
    Mr. Pickwick looked round him. The attachment and fervour of his followers,
lighted up a glow of enthusiasm within him. He was their leader, and he felt it.
    »Let us celebrate this happy meeting with a convivial glass,« said he. This
proposition, like the other, was received with unanimous applause. Having
himself deposited the important stone in a small deal box, purchased from the
landlady for the purpose, he placed himself in an arm-chair at the head of the
table; and the evening was devoted to festivity and conversation.
    It was past eleven o'clock - a late hour for the little village of Cobham -
when Mr. Pickwick retired to the bed-room which had been prepared for his
reception. He threw open the lattice-window, and setting his light upon the
table, fell into a train of meditation on the hurried events of the two
preceding days.
    The hour and the place were both favourable to contemplation; Mr. Pickwick
was roused by the church-clock striking twelve. The first stroke of the hour
sounded solemnly in his ear, but when the bell ceased the stillness seemed
insupportable; - he almost felt as if he had lost a companion. He was nervous
and excited; and hastily undressing himself and