Well, then,' said Mr Muzzle, 'I'm very sorry to have to explain myself

before ladies, but the urgency of the case will be my excuse. The back

kitchen's empty, Sir. If you will step in there, Sir, Mr Weller will see

fair, and we can have mutual satisfaction till the bell rings. Follow me,

Sir!'

As Mr Muzzle uttered these words, he took a step or two towards the

door; and, by way of saving time, began to pull off his coat as he

walked along.

Now, the cook no sooner heard the concluding words of this desperate

challenge, and saw Mr Muzzle about to put it into execution, than she

uttered a loud and piercing shriek; and rushing on Mr Job Trotter,

who rose from his chair on the instant, tore and buffeted his large flat

face, with an energy peculiar to excited females, and twining her

hands in his long black hair, tore therefrom about enough to make

five or six dozen of the very largest-sized mourning-rings. Having

accomplished this feat with all the ardour which her devoted love for

Mr Muzzle inspired, she staggered back; and being a lady of very

excitable and delicate feelings, she instantly fell under the dresser,

and fainted away.

At this moment, the bell rang.

That's for you, Job Trotter,' said Sam; and before Mr Trotter could

offer remonstrance or reply - even before he had time to stanch the

wounds inflicted by the insensible lady - Sam seized one arm and Mr

Muzzle the other, and one pulling before, and the other pushing

behind, they conveyed him upstairs, and into the parlour.

It was an impressive tableau. Alfred Jingle, Esquire, alias Captain

Fitz-Marshall, was standing near the door with his hat in his hand,

and a smile on his face, wholly unmoved by his very unpleasant

situation. Confronting him, stood Mr Pickwick, who had evidently

been inculcating some high moral lesson; for his left hand was

beneath his coat tail, and his right extended in air, as was his wont

when delivering himself of an impressive address. At a little distance,

stood Mr Tupman with indignant countenance, carefully held back by

his two younger friends; at the farther end of the room were Mr

Nupkins, Mrs. Nupkins, and Miss Nupkins, gloomily grand and

savagely vexed. 'What prevents me,' said Mr Nupkins, with magisterial

dignity, as Job was brought in - 'what prevents me from detaining

these men as rogues and impostors? It is a foolish mercy. What

prevents me?'

Pride, old fellow, pride,' replied Jingle, quite at his ease. 'Wouldn't do -

no go - caught a captain, eh? - ha! ha! very good - husband for

The Pickwick Papers