CHAPTER VI.
THE BAILIFF; AND A BITTER TRIAL.
Jennings--Mr.Simon Jennings--for he prided himself much both on the Mr.and the Simon, was an upright man, a very upright man indeed, literally so as well as metaphorically.

He was not tall certainly, but what there was of him stood bolt upright.

Many fancied that his neck was possessed of some natural infirmity, or rather firmity, of unbendableness, some little-to-be-envied property of being a perpetual stiff-neck; and they were the more countenanced in this theory, from the fact that, within a few days past, Mr.Jennings had contracted an ugly knack of carrying his erect head in the comfortless position of peeping over his left shoulder; not always so, indeed, but often enough to be remarkable; and then he would occasionally start it straight again, eyes right, with a nervous twitch, any thing but pleasant to the marvelling spectator.

It was as if he was momentarily expecting to look upon some vague object that affrighted him, and sometimes really did see it.

Mr.
Jennings had consulted high medical authority (as Hurstley judged), to wit, the Union doctor of last scene, an enterprising practitioner, glib in theory, and bold in practice--and it had been mutually agreed between them that "stomach" was the cause of these unhandsome symptoms; acridity of the gastric juice, consequent indigestion and spasm, and generally a hypochondriacal habit of body.