It was all as silent and dark as ever.
'Dear me!' said Mrs.Dowler.

'You must knock again, if you please.' 'There ain't a bell, is there, ma'am ?' said the short chairman.
'Yes, there is,' interposed the link-boy, 'I've been a-ringing at it ever so long.' 'It's only a handle,' said Mrs.Dowler, 'the wire's broken.' 'I wish the servants' heads wos,' growled the long man.
'I must trouble you to knock again, if you please,' said Mrs.Dowler, with the utmost politeness.
The short man did knock again several times, without producing the smallest effect.

The tall man, growing very impatient, then relieved him, and kept on perpetually knocking double-knocks of two loud knocks each, like an insane postman.
At length Mr.Winkle began to dream that he was at a club, and that the members being very refractory, the chairman was obliged to hammer the table a good deal to preserve order; then he had a confused notion of an auction room where there were no bidders, and the auctioneer was buying everything in; and ultimately he began to think it just within the bounds of possibility that somebody might be knocking at the street door.

To make quite certain, however, he remained quiet in bed for ten minutes or so, and listened; and when he had counted two or three-and-thirty knocks, he felt quite satisfied, and gave himself a great deal of credit for being so wakeful.
'Rap rap-rap rap-rap rap-ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, rap!' went the knocker.
Mr.Winkle jumped out of bed, wondering very much what could possibly be the matter, and hastily putting on his stockings and slippers, folded his dressing-gown round him, lighted a flat candle from the rush-light that was burning in the fireplace, and hurried downstairs.
'Here's somebody comin' at last, ma'am,' said the short chairman.
'I wish I wos behind him vith a bradawl,' muttered the long one.
'Who's there ?' cried Mr.Winkle, undoing the chain.
'Don't stop to ask questions, cast-iron head,' replied the long man, with great disgust, taking it for granted that the inquirer was a footman; 'but open the door.' 'Come, look sharp, timber eyelids,' added the other encouragingly.
Mr.Winkle, being half asleep, obeyed the command mechanically, opened the door a little, and peeped out.

The first thing he saw, was the red glare of the link-boy's torch.