p in the same tone. 'Tell me.
And don't speak above your breath, or I'll choke you in good earnest.'

The boy could only point to the window, and reply with a stifled
giggle, expressive of such intense enjoyment, that Quilp clutched him
by the throat and might have carried his threat into execution, or at
least have made very good progress towards that end, but for the boy's
nimbly extricating himself from his grasp, and fortifying himself
behind the nearest post, at which, after some fruitless attempts to
catch him by the hair of the head, his master was obliged to come to a
parley.

'Will you answer me?' said Quilp. 'What's going on, above?'

'You won't let one speak,' replied the boy. 'They--ha, ha, ha!--they
think you're--you're dead. Ha ha ha!'

'Dead!' cried Quilp, relaxing into a grim laugh himself. 'No. Do
they? Do they really, you dog?'

'They think you're--you're drowned,' replied the boy, who in his
malicious nature had a strong infusion of his master. 'You was last
seen on the brink of the wharf, and they think you tumbled over. Ha
ha!'

The prospect of playing the spy under such delicious circumstances, and
of disappointing them all by walking in alive, gave more delight to
Quilp than the greatest stroke of good fortune could possibly have
inspired him with. He was no less tickled than his hopeful assistant,
and they both stood for some seconds, grinning and gasping and wagging
their heads at each other, on either side of the post, like an
unmatchable pair of Chinese idols.

'Not a word,' said Quilp, making towards the door on tiptoe. 'Not a
sound, not so much as a creaking board, or a stumble against a cobweb.
Drowned, eh, Mrs Quilp! Drowned!'

So saying, he blew out the candle, kicked off his shoes, and groped his
way up stairs; leaving his delighted young friend in an ecstasy of
summersets on the pavement.

The bedroom-door on the staircase being unlocked, Mr Quilp slipped in,
and planted himself behind the door of communication between that
chamber and the sitting-room, which standing ajar to render both more
airy, and having a very convenient chink (of which he had often availed
himself for purposes of espial, and had indeed enlarged with his
pocket-knife), enabled him not only to hear, but to see distinctly,
what was passing.

Applying his eye to this convenient place, he descried Mr Brass seated
at the table with pen, ink, and paper, and the case-bottle of rum--his
own case-