To Mrs. Dowler. ‘You made a vow,’ said she. ‘I did,’ said I. ‘It was a

rash one,’ said she. ‘It was,’ said I. ‘I'll apologise. Where is he?’'

Who?' inquired Mr Winkle.

You,' replied Dowler. 'I went downstairs. You were not to be found.

Pickwick looked gloomy. Shook his head. Hoped no violence would be

committed. I saw it all. You felt yourself insulted. You had gone, for a

friend perhaps. Possibly for pistols. ‘High spirit,’ said I. ‘I admire him.’'

Mr Winkle coughed, and beginning to see how the land lay, assumed a

look of importance.

I left a note for you,' resumed Dowler. 'I said I was sorry. So I was.

Pressing business called me here. You were not satisfied. You

followed. You required a verbal explanation. You were right. It's all

over now. My business is finished. I go back to-morrow. Join me.'

As Dowler progressed in his explanation, Mr Winkle's countenance

grew more and more dignified. The mysterious nature of the

commencement of their conversation was explained; Mr Dowler had as

great an objection to duelling as himself; in short, this blustering and

awful personage was one of the most egregious cowards in existence,

and interpreting Mr Winkle's absence through the medium of his own

fears, had taken the same step as himself, and prudently retired until

all excitement of feeling should have subsided.

As the real state of the case dawned upon Mr Winkle's mind, he

looked very terrible, and said he was perfectly satisfied; but at the

same time, said so with an air that left Mr Dowler no alternative but to

infer that if he had not been, something most horrible and destructive

must inevitably have occurred. Mr Dowler appeared to be impressed

with a becoming sense of Mr Winkle's magnanimity and

condescension; and the two belligerents parted for the night, with

many protestations of eternal friendship.

About half-past twelve o'clock, when Mr Winkle had been revelling

some twenty minutes in the full luxury of his first sleep, he was

suddenly awakened by a loud knocking at his chamber door, which,

being repeated with increased vehemence, caused him to start up in

bed, and inquire who was there, and what the matter was.

'Please, Sir, here's a young man which says he must see you directly,'

responded the voice of the chambermaid.

A young man!' exclaimed Mr Winkle.

The Pickwick Papers