The horses in the first chaise started on at their utmost speed; and those in Mr. Wardle’s galloped furiously behind them.

“I see his head,” exclaimed the choleric old man; “damme, I see his head.”

“So do I,” said Mr. Pickwick; “that’s he.”

Mr. Pickwick was not mistaken. The countenance of Mr. Jingle, completely coated with mud thrown up by the wheels, was plainly discernible at the window of his chaise; and the motion of his arm, which was waving violently towards the postillions, denoted that he was encouraging them to increased exertion.