The extraordinary boy replied not a word; but he nodded
once, and seemed, to the clerk's imagination, to snore feebly.
'Where do you come from?' inquired the clerk.
The boy made no sign. He breathed heavily, but in all other
respects was motionless.
The clerk repeated the question thrice, and receiving no
answer, prepared to shut the door, when the boy suddenly
opened his eyes, winked several times, sneezed once, and raised
his hand as if to repeat the knocking. Finding the door open, he
stared about him with astonishment, and at length fixed his eyes
on Mr. Lowten's face.
'What the devil do you knock in that way for?' inquired the
clerk angrily.
'Which way?' said the boy, in a slow and sleepy voice.
'Why, like forty hackney-coachmen,' replied the clerk.
'Because master said, I wasn't to leave off knocking till they
opened the door, for fear I should go to sleep,' said the boy.
'Well,' said the clerk, 'what message have you brought?'
'He's downstairs,' rejoined the boy.
'Who?'
'Master. He wants to know whether you're at home.'
Mr. Lowten bethought himself, at this juncture, of looking
out of the window. Seeing an open carriage with a hearty old
gentleman in it, looking up very anxiously, he ventured to
beckon him; on which, the old gentleman jumped out directly.
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