“Hallo!” was the sound that roused him.

He looked to the right, but he saw nobody; his eyes wandered to the left, and pierced the prospect; he stared into the sky, but he wasn’t wanted there; and then he did what a common mind would have done at once⁠—looked into the garden, and there saw Mr. Wardle.

“How are you?” said the good-humoured individual, out of breath with his own anticipations of pleasure. “Beautiful morning, ain’t it? Glad to see you up so early. Make haste down, and come out. I’ll wait for you here.”

Mr. Pickwick needed no second invitation. Ten minutes sufficed for the completion of his toilet, and at the expiration of that time he was by the old gentleman’s side.