“ Mr. Bumble! Mr. Bumble!” cried Noah, with well-affected dismay: and in tones so loud and agitated, that they not only caught the ear of Mr. Bumble himself, who happened to be hard by, but alarmed him so much that he rushed into the yard without his cocked hat⁠—which is a very curious and remarkable circumstance: as showing that even a beadle, acted upon a sudden and powerful impulse, may be afflicted with a momentary visitation of loss of self-possession, and forgetfulness of personal dignity.

“Oh, Mr. Bumble, sir!” said Noah: “Oliver, sir⁠—Oliver has⁠—”

“What? What?” interposed Mr. Bumble: with a gleam of pleasure in his metallic eyes. “Not run away; he hasn’t run away, has he, Noah?”