nsane postman.
At length Winkle in his own room was roused by the racket. He donned
slippers and dressing-gown, hurried down stairs half asleep and opened
the door. At the glare of the torches he jumped to the conclusion that
the house was on fire and rushed outside, when the door blew shut behind
him.
Seeing a lady's face at the window of the sedan-chair, he turned and
knocked at the door frantically, but with no response. He was undressed
and the wind blew his dressing-gown in a most unpleasant manner. "There
are people coming down the street now. There are ladies with 'em; cover
me up with something! Stand before me!" roared Winkle, but the chairmen
only laughed. The ladies were nearer and in desperation he bolted into
the sedan-chair where Mrs. Dowler was.
Now Mr. Dowler, a moment before, had bounced off the bed, and now threw
open the window just in time to see this. He thought his wife was
running away with another man, and seizing a supper knife, the indignant
husband tore into the street, shouting furiously.
Winkle, hearing his horrible threats, did not wait. He leaped out of the
sedan-chair and took to his heels, hotly pursued by Dowler. He dodged
his pursuer at length, rushed back, slammed the door in Dowler's face,
gained his bedroom, barricaded his door with furniture and packed his
belongings. At the first streak of dawn, he slipped out and took coach
for Bristol.
Mr. Pickwick was greatly vexed over Winkle's unheroic flight. Sam Weller
soon discovered where he had gone, and Mr. Pickwick sent him after the
fugitive, bidding him find Winkle and either compel him to return or
keep him in sight until Mr. Pickwick himself could follow.
Winkle, meanwhile, walking about the Bristol streets, chanced to stop at
a doctor's office to make some inquiries, and in a young medical
gentleman in green spectacles recognized, to his huge surprise, Bob
Sawyer, the bosom friend of Ben Allen, both of whom he had met on
Christmas Day at Dingley Dell. Bob, in delight, dragged Winkle into the
back room where sat Ben Allen, amusing himself by boring holes in the
chimney piece with a red-hot poker.
The precious couple had, in fact, set up shop together, and were using
every trick they knew to make people think them great doctors with a
tremendous practice. They insisted on Winkle's staying to supper, and it
was lucky he did so, for he heard news of Arabella, the pretty girl who
had worn the little boots with fur around
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