put something smarter on her head than her nightcap,
ran down into the front drawing-room to make sure that it was the right
party. Throwing up the window-sash as Mr. Winkle was rushing into the
chair, she no sooner caught sight of what was going forward below, than
she raised a vehement and dismal shriek, and implored Mr. Dowler to get
up directly, for his wife was running away with another gentleman.

Upon this, Mr. Dowler bounced off the bed as abruptly as an India-rubber
ball, and rushing into the front room, arrived at one window just as Mr.
Pickwick threw up the other, when the first object that met the gaze of
both, was Mr. Winkle bolting into the sedan-chair.

'Watchman,' shouted Dowler furiously, 'stop him--hold him--keep him
tight--shut him in, till I come down. I'll cut his throat--give me a
knife--from ear to ear, Mrs. Craddock--I will!' And breaking from the
shrieking landlady, and from Mr. Pickwick, the indignant husband seized
a small supper-knife, and tore into the street. But Mr. Winkle didn't
wait for him. He no sooner heard the horrible threat of the valorous
Dowler, than he bounced out of the sedan, quite as quickly as he had
bounced in, and throwing off his slippers into the road, took to his
heels and tore round the crescent, hotly pursued by Dowler and the
watchman. He kept ahead; the door was open as he came round the second
time; he rushed in, slammed it in Dowler's face, mounted to his bedroom,
locked the door, piled a wash-hand-stand, chest of drawers, and a table
against it, and packed up a few necessaries ready for flight with the
first ray of morning.

Dowler came up to the outside of the door; avowed, through the keyhole,
his steadfast determination of cutting Mr. Winkle's throat next day;
and, after a great confusion of voices in the drawing-room, amidst which
that of Mr. Pickwick was distinctly heard endeavouring to make peace,
the inmates dispersed to their several bed-chambers, and all was quiet
once more.

It is not unlikely that the inquiry may be made, where Mr. Weller was,
all this time? We will state where he was, in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XXXVII. HONOURABLY ACCOUNTS FOR Mr. WELLER'S ABSENCE, BY
DESCRIBING A SOIREE TO WHICH HE WAS INVITED AND WENT; ALSO RELATES HOW
HE WAS ENTRUSTED BY Mr. PICKWICK WITH A PRIVATE MISSION OF DELICACY AND
IMPORTANCE

'Mr. Weller,' said Mrs. Craddock, upon the morning of this very eventful
day, 'here's a letter for you.'

'Wery odd t