The sport was at its height, the sliding was at the quickest, the
laughter was at the loudest, when a sharp smart crack was heard.
There was a quick rush towards the bank, a wild scream from the
ladies, and a shout from Mr. Tupman. A large mass of ice
disappeared; the water bubbled up over it; Mr. Pickwick's hat,
gloves, and handkerchief were floating on the surface; and this
was all of Mr. Pickwick that anybody could see.
Dismay and anguish were depicted on every countenance; the
males turned pale, and the females fainted; Mr. Snodgrass and
Mr. Winkle grasped each other by the hand, and gazed at the
spot where their leader had gone down, with frenzied eagerness;
while Mr. Tupman, by way of rendering the promptest assistance,
and at the same time conveying to any persons who might be
within hearing, the clearest possible notion of the catastrophe,
ran off across the country at his utmost speed, screaming 'Fire!'
with all his might.
It was at this moment, when old Wardle and Sam Weller were
approaching the hole with cautious steps, and Mr. Benjamin
Allen was holding a hurried consultation with Mr. Bob Sawyer
on the advisability of bleeding the company generally, as an
improving little bit of professional practice--it was at this very
moment, that a face, head, and shoulders, emerged from beneath the
water, and disclosed the features and spectacles of Mr.
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