iss Tomkins, in a faint
voice.

'I came to warn you that one of your young ladies was going to elope
to-night,' replied Mr. Pickwick, from the interior of the closet.

'Elope!' exclaimed Miss Tomkins, the three teachers, the thirty
boarders, and the five servants. 'Who with?' 'Your friend, Mr. Charles
Fitz-Marshall.'

'MY friend! I don't know any such person.'

'Well, Mr. Jingle, then.'

'I never heard the name in my life.'

'Then, I have been deceived, and deluded,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'I have
been the victim of a conspiracy--a foul and base conspiracy. Send to the
Angel, my dear ma'am, if you don't believe me. Send to the Angel for Mr.
Pickwick's manservant, I implore you, ma'am.'

'He must be respectable--he keeps a manservant,' said Miss Tomkins to
the writing and ciphering governess.

'It's my opinion, Miss Tomkins,' said the writing and ciphering
governess, 'that his manservant keeps him, I think he's a madman, Miss
Tomkins, and the other's his keeper.'

'I think you are very right, Miss Gwynn,' responded Miss Tomkins. 'Let
two of the servants repair to the Angel, and let the others remain here,
to protect us.'

So two of the servants were despatched to the Angel in search of Mr.
Samuel Weller; and the remaining three stopped behind to protect Miss
Tomkins, and the three teachers, and the thirty boarders. And Mr.
Pickwick sat down in the closet, beneath a grove of sandwich-bags,
and awaited the return of the messengers, with all the philosophy and
fortitude he could summon to his aid.

An hour and a half elapsed before they came back, and when they did
come, Mr. Pickwick recognised, in addition to the voice of Mr. Samuel
Weller, two other voices, the tones of which struck familiarly on his
ear; but whose they were, he could not for the life of him call to mind.

A very brief conversation ensued. The door was unlocked. Mr. Pickwick
stepped out of the closet, and found himself in the presence of the
whole establishment of Westgate House, Mr Samuel Weller, and--old
Wardle, and his destined son-in-law, Mr. Trundle!

'My dear friend,' said Mr. Pickwick, running forward and grasping
Wardle's hand, 'my dear friend, pray, for Heaven's sake, explain to this
lady the unfortunate and dreadful situation in which I am placed. You
must have heard it from my servant; say, at all events, my dear fellow,
that I am neither a robber nor a madman.'

'I have said so, my dear friend. I have said so already,' replied Mr