“Now, it’s in the stable, and they’ll think the place is afire,” said Sam. “Shut it up, sir, can’t you?”
“It’s the most extraordinary lantern I ever met with, in all my life!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, greatly bewildered by the effects he had so unintentionally produced. “I never saw such a powerful reflector.”
“It’ll be vun too powerful for us, if you keep blazin’ avay in that manner, sir,” replied Sam, as Mr. Pickwick, after various unsuccessful efforts, managed to close the slide. “There’s the young lady’s footsteps. Now, Mr. Vinkle, sir, up vith you.”
“Stop, stop!” said Mr. Pickwick, “I must speak to her first. Help me up, Sam.”
“Gently, sir,” said Sam, planting his head against the wall, and making a platform of his back. “Step a top o’ that ’ere flower-pot, sir. Now then, up vith you.”
“I’m afraid I shall hurt you, Sam,” said Mr. Pickwick.
“Never mind me, sir,” replied Sam. “Lend him a hand, Mr. Vinkle, sir. Steady, sir, steady. That’s the time o’ day!”
As Sam spoke, Mr. Pickwick, by exertions almost supernatural in a gentleman of his years and weight, contrived to get upon Sam’s back; and Sam gently raising himself up, and Mr. Pickwick holding on fast by the top of the wall, while Mr. Winkle clasped him tight by the legs, they contrived by these means to bring his spectacles just above the level of the coping.
“My dear,” said Mr. Pickwick, looking over the wall, and catching sight of Arabella, on the other side. “Don’t be frightened, my dear, it’s only me.”
“Oh pray go away, Mr. Pickwick,” said Arabella. “Tell them all to go away. I am so dreadfully frightened. Dear, dear Mr. Pickwick, don’t stop there. You’ll fall down and kill yourself, I know you will.”