The closing of the door recalled him to himself.

He rushed forward with fury in his looks, and fire in his eye.

His hand was upon the lock of the door; in another instant it would have been on the throat of Doctor Payne of the 43rd, had not Mr.Snodgrass seized his revered leader by the coat tail, and dragged him backwards.
'Restrain him,' cried Mr.Snodgrass; 'Winkle, Tupman--he must not peril his distinguished life in such a cause as this.' 'Let me go,' said Mr.Pickwick.
'Hold him tight,' shouted Mr.Snodgrass; and by the united efforts of the whole company, Mr.Pickwick was forced into an arm-chair.

'Leave him alone,' said the green-coated stranger; 'brandy-and-water--jolly old gentleman--lots of pluck--swallow this--ah!--capital stuff.' Having previously tested the virtues of a bumper, which had been mixed by the dismal man, the stranger applied the glass to Mr.Pickwick's mouth; and the remainder of its contents rapidly disappeared.
There was a short pause; the brandy-and-water had done its work; the amiable countenance of Mr.Pickwick was fast recovering its customary expression.
'They are not worth your notice,' said the dismal man.
'You are right, sir,' replied Mr.Pickwick, 'they are not.

I am ashamed to have been betrayed into this warmth of feeling.