Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/691

583 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 583

and was upon the point of turning round to renew the conversation, when the fat boy, stooping so as to bring his head on a level with that of Mr. Pickwick, pointed with his thumb over his shoulder and made the most horrible and hideous face that was ever seen out of a pantomime.

"Dear me!" said Mr. Pickwick, starting, '^ what a very — eh?" He stopped, for the fat boy had drawn himself up, and was, or pre- tended to be, fast asleep.


 * ' What's the matter ? " enquired Wardle.

" This is such an extremely singular lad of yours," replied Mr. Pick- wick, looking uneasily at the boy. " It seems an odd thing to say, but, upon my word, I am afraid that at times he is a little deranged."

" Oh ! Mr. Pickwick, pray don't say so," cried Emily and Arabella, both at once.

silence, and looks of general dismay ; " but his manner to me this moment was really very alarming. Oh ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, suddenly jumping up with a short scream, '* I beg your pardon, ladies, but at that moment he ran some sharp instrument into my leg. ,j Really he is not safe."
 * ' I am not certain, of course," said Mr. Pickwick, amidst profound

" He's drunk," roared old Wardle, passionately. '^ Ring the bell, call the waiters ! he's drunk."

'* I ain't," said the fat boy, falling on his knees as his master seized him by the collar. " I ain't drunk."

" Then you're mad — that's worse. Call the waiters," said the old gentleman.

" I ain't mad ; I'm sensible," rejoined the fat boy, beginning to cry.

Pickwick's legs for ? " enquired Wardle, angrily.
 * ' Then, what the devil did you run sharp instruments into Mr.

'' He wouldn't look at me," replied the boy. *' I wanted to speak to him."

" What did you want to say ? " asked half a dozen voices at once.

The fat boy gasped, looked at the bedroom door, gasped again, and wiped two tears away with the knuckle of each of his fore-fingers.

" What did you want to say ? " demanded Wardle, shaking him.

communicate to me, my poor boy ? "
 * ' Stop," said Mr. Pickwick ; " allow me. What did you wish to

" I want to whisper to you,'' replied the fat boy.

" You want to bite his ear off, I suppose," said Wardle. '* Don't come near him, he's vicious ; ring the bell, and let him be taken down stairs."

Just as Mr. Winkle caught the bell-rope in his hand, it was arrested by a general expression of astonishment ; the captive lover, his face burning with confusion, suddenly walked in from the bedroom, and made a comprehensive bow to the company.

" Hallo ! " cried Wardle, releasing the fat boy's collar, and staggering back, " What's this ! "

" I have been concealed in the next room. Sir, since you returned," explained Mr. Snodgrass.

" Emily, my girl," said Wardle, reproachfully, " I detest meanness