Bob Sawyer, and
prompted him for his (the demon's) own evil purpose to speak
as follows:--
'I say, we've let the fire out. It's uncommonly cold after the
rain, isn't it?'
'It really is,' replied Mr. Pickwick, shivering.
'It wouldn't be a bad notion to have a cigar by the kitchen fire,
would it?' said Bob Sawyer, still prompted by the demon aforesaid.
'It would be particularly comfortable, I think,' replied Mr.
Pickwick. 'Mr. Pott, what do you say?'
Mr. Pott yielded a ready assent; and all four travellers, each
with his glass in his hand, at once betook themselves to the
kitchen, with Sam Weller heading the procession to show them
the way.
The stranger was still reading; he looked up and started.
Mr. Pott started.
'What's the matter?' whispered Mr. Pickwick.
'That reptile!' replied Pott.
'What reptile?' said Mr. Pickwick, looking about him for fear
he should tread on some overgrown black beetle, or dropsical spider.
'That reptile,' whispered Pott, catching Mr. Pickwick by the
arm, and pointing towards the stranger. 'That reptile Slurk, of
the INDEPENDENT!'
'Perhaps we had better retire,' whispered Mr. Pickwick.
'Never, Sir,' rejoined Pott, pot-valiant in a double sense--
'never.
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