in with his shoes: besides
rattling his feet upon the glass like a Banshee upside down. As a
matter of course, Mr Quilp lost no time in resorting to the infallible
poker, with which, after some dodging and lying in ambush, he paid his
young friend one or two such unequivocal compliments that he vanished
precipitately, and left him in quiet possession of the field.

'So! That little job being disposed of,' said the dwarf, coolly, 'I'll
read my letter. Humph!' he muttered, looking at the direction. 'I
ought to know this writing. Beautiful Sally!'

Opening it, he read, in a fair, round, legal hand, as follows:

'Sammy has been practised upon, and has broken confidence. It has all
come out. You had better not be in the way, for strangers are going to
call upon you. They have been very quiet as yet, because they mean to
surprise you. Don't lose time. I didn't. I am not to be found
anywhere. If I was you, I wouldn't either. S. B., late of B. M.'

To describe the changes that passed over Quilp's face, as he read this
letter half-a-dozen times, would require some new language: such, for
power of expression, as was never written, read, or spoken. For a long
time he did not utter one word; but, after a considerable interval,
during which Mrs Quilp was almost paralysed with the alarm his looks
engendered, he contrived to gasp out,

'If I had him here. If I only had him here--'

'Oh Quilp!' said his wife, 'what's the matter? Who are you angry with?'

'--I should drown him,' said the dwarf, not heeding her. 'Too easy a
death, too short, too quick--but the river runs close at hand. Oh! if
I had him here! just to take him to the brink coaxingly and
pleasantly,--holding him by the button-hole--joking with him,--and,
with a sudden push, to send him splashing down! Drowning men come to
the surface three times they say. Ah! To see him those three times,
and mock him as his face came bobbing up,--oh, what a rich treat that
would be!'

'Quilp!' stammered his wife, venturing at the same time to touch him on
the shoulder: 'what has gone wrong?'

She was so terrified by the relish with which he pictured this pleasure
to himself that she could scarcely make herself intelligible.

'Such a bloodless cur!' said Quilp, rubbing his hands very slowly, and
pressing them tight together. 'I thought his cowardice and servility
were the best guarantee for his keeping silence. Oh Brass, Brass--my
dear, good, affectionate,