338 POSTHUMOUS PAi'£kS of
" Now, Mr. Sawyer," screamed the shrill voice of Mrs. Raddle, " are them brutes going ?"
" They're only looking for their hats, Mrs. Raddle," said Bob ; " they are going directly."
" Going!" said Mrs. Raddle, thrusting her night-cap over the ban- nisters just as iMr. Pickwick, followed by Mr. Tupman, emerged from the sitting-room. " Going ! What did they ever come for?"
" My dear ma'am," remonstrated Mr. Pickwick, looking up.
" Get along with you, you old wretch !" replied Mrs. Raddle, hastily withdrawing the night-cap. " Old enough to be his grandfather^ you villin ! You're worse than any of 'em."
Mr. Pickwick found it in vain to protest his innocence, so hurried down stairs into the street, whither he was closely followed by Mr. Tup- man, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass. Mr. Ben Allen, who was dis- mally depressed with spirits and agitation, accompanied them as far as London Bridge, and in the course of the walk confided to Mr. Winkle, as an especially eligible person to intrust the secret to, that he was resolved to cut the throat of any gentleman except Mr. Bob Sawyer who should aspire to the affections of his sister Arabella. Having expressed his determination to perform this painful duty of a brother with proper firmness, he burst into tears, knocked his hat over his eyes, and, making the best of his way back, knocked double knocks at the door of the Borough Market, and took short naps on the steps alternately, till day- break, under the firm impression that he lived there, and had forgotten the key.
The visiters having all departed, in compliance with the rather press- ing request oi Mrs. Raddle, the luckless Mr. Bob Sawyer was left alone, to meditate on the probable events of the morrow, and the plea- sures of the evening.
