To
make quite certain, however, he remained quiet in bed for ten
minutes or so, and listened; and when he had counted two or
three-and-thirty knocks, he felt quite satisfied, and gave himself a
great deal of credit for being so wakeful.
'Rap rap-rap rap-rap rap-ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, rap!' went the knocker.
Mr. Winkle jumped out of bed, wondering very much what
could possibly be the matter, and hastily putting on his stockings
and slippers, folded his dressing-gown round him, lighted a flat
candle from the rush-light that was burning in the fireplace, and
hurried downstairs.
'Here's somebody comin' at last, ma'am,' said the
short chairman.
'I wish I wos behind him vith a bradawl,' muttered the long one.
'Who's there?' cried Mr. Winkle, undoing the chain.
'Don't stop to ask questions, cast-iron head,' replied the long
man, with great disgust, taking it for granted that the inquirer was
a footman; 'but open the door.'
'Come, look sharp, timber eyelids,' added the other encouragingly.
Mr. Winkle, being half asleep, obeyed the command mechanically,
opened the door a little, and peeped out. The first thing he
saw, was the red glare of the link-boy's torch.
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