like every other trouble and anxiety I have had of late
times, springs from that old dotard and his darling child--two wretched
feeble wanderers! I'll be their evil genius yet. And you, sweet Kit,
honest Kit, virtuous, innocent Kit, look to yourself. Where I hate, I
bite. I hate you, my darling fellow, with good cause, and proud as you
are to-night, I'll have my turn. --What's that?'

A knocking at the gate he had closed. A loud and violent knocking.
Then, a pause; as if those who knocked had stopped to listen. Then,
the noise again, more clamorous and importunate than before. 'So
soon!' said the dwarf. 'And so eager! I am afraid I shall disappoint
you. It's well I'm quite prepared. Sally, I thank you!'

As he spoke, he extinguished the candle. In his impetuous attempts to
subdue the brightness of the fire, he overset the stove, which came
tumbling forward, and fell with a crash upon the burning embers it had
shot forth in its descent, leaving the room in pitchy darkness. The
noise at the gate still continuing, he felt his way to the door, and
stepped into the open air.

At that moment the knocking ceased. It was about eight o'clock; but
the dead of the darkest night would have been as noon-day in comparison
with the thick cloud which then rested upon the earth, and shrouded
everything from view. He darted forward for a few paces, as if into
the mouth of some dim, yawning cavern; then, thinking he had gone
wrong, changed the direction of his steps; then stood still, not
knowing where to turn.

'If they would knock again,' said Quilp, trying to peer into the gloom
by which he was surrounded, 'the sound might guide me! Come! Batter
the gate once more!'

He stood listening intently, but the noise was not renewed. Nothing
was to be heard in that deserted place, but, at intervals, the distant
barkings of dogs. The sound was far away--now in one quarter, now
answered in another--nor was it any guide, for it often came from
shipboard, as he knew.

'If I could find a wall or fence,' said the dwarf, stretching out his
arms, and walking slowly on, 'I should know which way to turn. A good,
black, devil's night this, to have my dear friend here! If I had but
that wish, it might, for anything I cared, never be day again.'

As the word passed his lips, he staggered and fell--and next moment was
fighting with the cold dark water!

For all its bubbling up and rushing in his ears, he could hear the
knock