It was at the end of the chorus to the first verse, that Mr. Pickwick held up his hand in a listening attitude, and said, as soon as silence was restored: "Hush! I beg your pardon. I thought I heard somebody calling from up-stairs." A profound silence immediately ensued; and Mr. Bob Sawyer was observed to turn pale. "I think I hear it now," said Mr. Pickwick. "Have the goodness to open the door." The door was no sooner opened than all doubt on the subject was removed. "Mr. Sawyer--Mr. Sawyer," screamed a voice from the two-pair landing. "It's my landlady," said Bob Sawyer, looking around him with great dismay. "Yes, Mrs. Raddle." "What do you mean by this, Mr. Sawyer?" replied the voice, with great shrillness and rapidity of utterance. "Ain't it enough to be swindled out of one's rent, and money lent out of pocket besides, and abused and insulted by your friends that dares to call themselves men, without having the house turned out of window, and noise enough made to bring the fire-engines here, at two o'clock in the morning? Turn them wretches away." "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves," said the voice of Mr. Raddle, which appeared to proceed from beneath some distant bed-clothes. "Ashamed of themselves!" said Mrs. Raddle. "Why don't you go down and knock 'em every one down-stairs? You would if you was a man." "I should if I was a dozen men, my dear," replied Mr. Raddle, pacifically, "but they've rather the advantage of me in numbers, my dear." "Ugh, you coward!" replied Mrs. Raddle, with supreme contempt. "Do you mean to turn them wretches out, or not, Mr. Sawyer?" "They're going, Mrs. Raddle, they're going," said the miserable Bob. "I am afraid you'd better go," said Mr. Bob Sawyer to his friends. "I thought you were making too much noise." "It's a very unfortunate thing," said the prim man. "Just as we were getting so comfortable too!" The fact was the prim man was just beginning to have a dawning recollection of the story he had forgotten. "It's hardly to be borne," said the prim man, looking round. "Hardly to be borne, is it?" "Not to be endured," replied Jack Hopkins; "let's have the other verse, Bob. Come, here goes." "No, no, Jack, don't," interposed Bob Sawyer; "it's a capital song, but I am afraid we had better not have the other verse. They are very violent people, the people of the house." "Shall I step up-stairs, and pitch into the landlord?" inquired Hopkins, "or keep on ringing the bell, or go and groan on the staircase? You may command me, Bob." "I am very much indebted to you for your friendship and good nature, Hopkins," said the wretched Mr. Bob Sawyer, "but I think the best plan to avoid any further dispute is for us to break up at once." "Now, Mr. Sawyer," screamed the shrill voice of Mrs. Raddle, "are them brutes going?" "They're only looking for their hats, Mrs. Raddle," said Bob; "they are going directly."