At last, when the punch was all gone, and the night nearly so, they sallied forth to see each other home.

Mr.Tuckle no sooner got into the open air, than he was seized with a sudden desire to lie on the curbstone; Sam thought it would be a pity to contradict him, and so let him have his own way.

As the cocked hat would have been spoiled if left there, Sam very considerately flattened it down on the head of the gentleman in blue, and putting the big stick in his hand, propped him up against his own street-door, rang the bell, and walked quietly home.
At a much earlier hour next morning than his usual time of rising, Mr.
Pickwick walked downstairs completely dressed, and rang the bell.
'Sam,' said Mr.Pickwick, when Mr.Weller appeared in reply to the summons, 'shut the door.' Mr.Weller did so.
'There was an unfortunate occurrence here, last night, Sam,' said Mr.
Pickwick, 'which gave Mr.Winkle some cause to apprehend violence from Mr.Dowler.' 'So I've heerd from the old lady downstairs, Sir,' replied Sam.
'And I'm sorry to say, Sam,' continued Mr.Pickwick, with a most perplexed countenance, 'that in dread of this violence, Mr.Winkle has gone away.' 'Gone avay!' said Sam.
'Left the house early this morning, without the slightest previous communication with me,' replied Mr.Pickwick.

'And is gone, I know not where.' 'He should ha' stopped and fought it out, Sir,' replied Sam contemptuously.

'It wouldn't take much to settle that 'ere Dowler, Sir.' 'Well, Sam,' said Mr.Pickwick, 'I may have my doubts of his great bravery and determination also.