dering very much what could possibly
be the matter, and hastily putting on his stockings and slippers, folded
his dressing-gown round him, lighted a flat candle from the rush-light
that was burning in the fireplace, and hurried downstairs.

'Here's somebody comin' at last, ma'am,' said the short chairman.

'I wish I wos behind him vith a bradawl,' muttered the long one.

'Who's there?' cried Mr. Winkle, undoing the chain.

'Don't stop to ask questions, cast-iron head,' replied the long man,
with great disgust, taking it for granted that the inquirer was a
footman; 'but open the door.'

'Come, look sharp, timber eyelids,' added the other encouragingly.

Mr. Winkle, being half asleep, obeyed the command mechanically, opened
the door a little, and peeped out. The first thing he saw, was the red
glare of the link-boy's torch. Startled by the sudden fear that the
house might be on fire, he hastily threw the door wide open, and holding
the candle above his head, stared eagerly before him, not quite certain
whether what he saw was a sedan-chair or a fire-engine. At this instant
there came a violent gust of wind; the light was blown out; Mr. Winkle
felt himself irresistibly impelled on to the steps; and the door blew
to, with a loud crash.

'Well, young man, now you HAVE done it!' said the short chairman.

Mr. Winkle, catching sight of a lady's face at the window of the sedan,
turned hastily round, plied the knocker with all his might and main, and
called frantically upon the chairman to take the chair away again.

'Take it away, take it away,' cried Mr. Winkle. 'Here's somebody coming
out of another house; put me into the chair. Hide me! Do something with
me!'

All this time he was shivering with cold; and every time he raised
his hand to the knocker, the wind took the dressing-gown in a most
unpleasant manner.

'The people are coming down the crescent now. There are ladies with 'em;
cover me up with something. Stand before me!' roared Mr. Winkle. But
the chairmen were too much exhausted with laughing to afford him the
slightest assistance, and the ladies were every moment approaching
nearer and nearer. Mr. Winkle gave a last hopeless knock; the ladies
were only a few doors off. He threw away the extinguished candle, which,
all this time he had held above his head, and fairly bolted into the
sedan-chair where Mrs. Dowler was.

Now, Mrs. Craddock had heard the knocking and the voices at last; and,
only waiting to