Mr Winkle, catching sight of a lady's face at the window of the sedan,

turned hastily round, plied the knocker with all his might and main,

and called frantically upon the chairman to take the chair away again.

Take it away, take it away,' cried Mr Winkle. 'Here's somebody coming

out of another house; put me into the chair. Hide me! Do something

with me!'

All this time he was shivering with cold; and every time he raised his

hand to the knocker, the wind took the dressing-gown in a most

unpleasant manner.

The people are coming down the crescent now. There are ladies with

em; cover me up with something. Stand before me!' roared Mr Winkle.

But the chairmen were too much exhausted with laughing to afford

him the slightest assistance, and the ladies were every moment

approaching nearer and nearer. Mr Winkle gave a last hopeless knock;

the ladies were only a few doors off. He threw away the extinguished

candle, which, all this time he had held above his head, and fairly

bolted into the sedan-chair where Mrs. Dowler was.

Now, Mrs. Craddock had heard the knocking and the voices at last;

and, only waiting to put something smarter on her head than her

nightcap, ran down into the front drawing-room to make sure that it

was the right party. Throwing up the window-sash as Mr Winkle was

rushing into the chair, she no sooner caught sight of what was going

forward below, than she raised a vehement and dismal shriek, and

implored Mr Dowler to get up directly, for his wife was running away

with another gentleman.

Upon this, Mr Dowler bounced off the bed as abruptly as an India-

rubber ball, and rushing into the front room, arrived at one window

just as Mr Pickwick threw up the other, when the first object that met

the gaze of both, was Mr Winkle bolting into the sedan-chair.

Watchman,' shouted Dowler furiously, 'stop him - hold him - keep

him tight - shut him in, till I come down. I'll cut his throat - give me a

knife - from ear to ear, Mrs. Craddock - I will!' And breaking from the

shrieking landlady, and from Mr Pickwick, the indignant husband

seized a small supper-knife, and tore into the street. But Mr Winkle

didn't wait for him. He no sooner heard the horrible threat of the

valorous Dowler, than he bounced out of the sedan, quite as quickly

as he had bounced in, and throwing off his slippers into the road, took

to his heels and tore round the crescent, hotly pursued by Dowler and

the watchman. He kept ahead; the door was open as he came round

the second time; he rushed in, slammed it in Dowler's face, mounted

to his bedroom, locked the door, piled a wash-hand-stand, chest of

The Pickwick Papers