Chapter IX

A Discovery And A Chase

The supper was ready laid, the chairs were drawn round the table,

bottles, jugs, and glasses were arranged upon the sideboard, and

everything betokened the approach of the most convivial period in the

whole four-and-twenty hours.

Where's Rachael?' said Mr Wardle.

Ay, and Jingle?' added Mr Pickwick.

Dear me,' said the host, 'I wonder I haven't missed him before. Why, I

don't think I've heard his voice for two hours at least. Emily, my dear,

ring the bell.'

The bell was rung, and the fat boy appeared.

Where's Miss Rachael?' He couldn't say. 'Where's Mr Jingle, then?' He

didn't know. Everybody looked surprised. It was late - past eleven

o'clock. Mr Tupman laughed in his sleeve. They were loitering

somewhere, talking about him. Ha, ha! capital notion that - funny.

'Never mind,' said Wardle, after a short pause. 'They'll turn up

presently, I dare say. I never wait supper for anybody.'

Excellent rule, that,' said Mr Pickwick - 'admirable.'

Pray, sit down,' said the host.

Certainly' said Mr Pickwick; and down they sat.

There was a gigantic round of cold beef on the table, and Mr Pickwick

was supplied with a plentiful portion of it. He had raised his fork to

his lips, and was on the very point of opening his mouth for the

reception of a piece of beef, when the hum of many voices suddenly

arose in the kitchen. He paused, and laid down his fork. Mr Wardle

paused too, and insensibly released his hold of the carving-knife,

which remained inserted in the beef. He looked at Mr Pickwick. Mr

Pickwick looked at him.

Heavy footsteps were heard in the passage; the parlour door was

suddenly burst open; and the man who had cleaned Mr Pickwick's

boots on his first arrival, rushed into the room, followed by the fat boy

and all the domestics. 'What the devil's the meaning of this?'

exclaimed the host.

The Pickwick Papers