"Yes, sir."
"Tall gentleman—dress coat—long legs—thin body?"
"Yes, sir."
"Elderly lady—thin face—rather skinny—eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"By heavens, it's the couple, Pickwick," exclaimed the old gentleman.
"Would have been here before," said the hostler, "but they broke a trace."
"It is!" said Wardle, "it is by Jove! Chaise and four instantly! We shall catch them yet, before they reach the next stage. A guinea a-piece, boys—be alive there—bustle about—there's good fellows."
And with such admonitions as these, the old gentleman ran up and down the yard, and bustled to and fro, in a state of excitement which communicated itself to Mr. Pickwick also; and under the influence of which, that gentleman got himself into complicated entanglements with harness, and mixed up with horses and wheels of chaises, in the most surprising manner, firmly believing that by so doing he was materially forwarding the preparations for their resuming their journey.
"Jump in—jump in!" cried old Wardle, climbing into the chaise, pulling up the steps, and slamming the door after him.
"Come along! Make haste!" And before Mr. Pickwick knew precisely what he was about, he felt himself forced in at the other door, by one pull from the old gentleman, and one push from the hostler; and off they were again.
"Ah! we are moving now," said the old gentleman exultingly. They were indeed, as was sufficiently testified to Mr. Pickwick, by his constant collisions either with the hard wood-work of the chaise, or the body of his companion.
"Hold up!" said the stout old Mr. Wardle, as Mr. dived head foremost into his capacious waistcoat.
"I never did feel such a jolting in my life," said Mr. Pickwick.
