when he heard the chain and bolts withdrawn, and saw the door slowly opening, wider and wider! He retreated into the corner, step by step; but do what he would, the interposition of his own person, prevented its being opened to its utmost width.
"Who's there?" screamed a numerous chorus of treble voices from the staircase inside, consisting of the spinster lady of the establishment, three teachers, five female servants, and thirty boarders, all half-dressed, and in a forest of curl-papers.
Of course Mr. Pickwick didn't say who was there; and then the burden of the chorus changed into—"Lor'! I am so frightened."
"Cook," said the lady abbess, who took care to be on the top stair, the very last of the group-"Cook, why don't you go a little way into the garden?"
"Please, ma'am, I don't like," responded the cook.
"Lor', what a stupid thing that cook is!" said the thirty boarders.
"Cook," said the lady abbess, with great dignity; "don't answer me, if you please. I insist upon your looking into the garden immediately."
Here the cook began to cry, and the house-maid said it was "a shame!" for which partisanship she received a month's warning on the spot.
"Do you hear, cook?" said the lady abbess, stamping her foot impatiently.
"Don't you hear your missis, cook?" cook?" said the three teachers.
"What an impudent thing, that cook is!" said the thirty boarders.
The unfortunate cook, thus strongly urged, advanced a step or two, and holding her candle just where it prevented her from seeing anything at all, declared there was nothing there, and it must have been the wind. The door was just going to be closed in consequence, when an inquisitive boarder, who had been peeping between the hinges, set up a fearful
