ed, and knocked and rang again. Some of the
neighbours threw up their windows, and called across the street to each
other that old Gride's housekeeper must have dropped down dead. Others
collected round the coach, and gave vent to various surmises; some held
that she had fallen asleep; some, that she had burnt herself to death;
some, that she had got drunk; and one very fat man that she had seen
something to eat which had frightened her so much (not being used to
it) that she had fallen into a fit. This last suggestion particularly
delighted the bystanders, who cheered it rather uproariously, and were,
with some difficulty, deterred from dropping down the area and breaking
open the kitchen door to ascertain the fact. Nor was this all. Rumours
having gone abroad that Arthur was to be married that morning, very
particular inquiries were made after the bride, who was held by the
majority to be disguised in the person of Mr Ralph Nickleby, which gave
rise to much jocose indignation at the public appearance of a bride in
boots and pantaloons, and called forth a great many hoots and groans.
At length, the two money-lenders obtained shelter in a house next door,
and, being accommodated with a ladder, clambered over the wall of the
back-yard--which was not a high one--and descended in safety on the
other side.

'I am almost afraid to go in, I declare,' said Arthur, turning to Ralph
when they were alone. 'Suppose she should be murdered. Lying with her
brains knocked out by a poker, eh?'

'Suppose she were,' said Ralph. 'I tell you, I wish such things were
more common than they are, and more easily done. You may stare and
shiver. I do!'

He applied himself to a pump in the yard; and, having taken a deep
draught of water and flung a quantity on his head and face, regained his
accustomed manner and led the way into the house: Gride following close
at his heels.

It was the same dark place as ever: every room dismal and silent as it
was wont to be, and every ghostly article of furniture in its customary
place. The iron heart of the grim old clock, undisturbed by all the
noise without, still beat heavily within its dusty case; the tottering
presses slunk from the sight, as usual, in their melancholy corners;
the echoes of footsteps returned the same dreary sound; the long-legged
spider paused in his nimble run, and, scared by the sight of men in that
his dull domain, hung motionless on the wall, counterfeiting death until
they s