The fat boy gasped, looked at the bedroom door, gasped again, and wiped two tears away with the knuckle of each of his forefingers.

“What did you want to say?” demanded Wardle, shaking him.

“Stop!” said Mr. Pickwick; “allow me. What did you wish to communicate to me, my poor boy?”

“I want to whisper to you,” replied the fat boy.

“You want to bite his ear off, I suppose,” said Wardle. “Don’t come near him; he’s vicious; ring the bell, and let him be taken downstairs.”