Mrs. Squeers had listened to this conversation from the bottom of the stairs, but now losing all patience, she hastily assumed her night-jacket and made her way to the scene of action.
"What's all this here to do?" said the lady, as the boys fell off right and left to save her the trouble of clearing a passage with her brawny arms. "What on earth are you a talking to him for, Squeery!"
"Why, my dear," said Squeers, "the fact is, that Smike is not to be found."
"Well, I know that," said the lady, "and where's the wonder? If you get a parcel of proud-stomached teachers that set the young dogs a rebelling, what else can you look for? Now, young man, you just have the kindness to take yourself off to the school-room, and take the boys off with you, and don't you stir out of there 'till you have leave given you, or you and I may fall out in a way that'll spoil your beauty, handsome as you think yourself, and so I tell you."
"Indeed!" said Nicholas, smiling.
"Yes; and indeed and indeed again. Mister Jackanapes," said the excited lady; "and I wouldn't keep such as you in the house another hour if I had my way."
"Nor would you, if I had mine," replied Nicholas. "Now, boys."
"Ah! Now boys," said Mrs. Squeers, mimicking, as nearly as she could, the voice and manner of the usher. "Follow your leader, boys, and take pattern by Smike if you dare. See what he'll get for himself when he is brought back, and mind I tell you that you shall have as bad, and twice as bad, if you so much as open your mouths about him."
"If I catch him," said Squeers, "I'll only stop short of flaying him alive, I give you notice, boys."
"If you catch him," retorted Mrs. Squeers contemptuously, "you are sure to; you can't help it, if you go the right way to work. Come, away with you!"
With these words, Mrs. Squeers dismissed the boys, and after a little light skirmishing with those in the rear who were pressing forward to get out of the way, but were detained for a few moments by the throng in front, succeeded in clearing the room, when she confronted her spouse alone.
"He is off," said Mrs. Squeers. "The cow-house and stable are locked up, so he can't be there; and he's not down stairs anywhere, for the girl has looked. He must have gone York way, and by a public road too."
"Why must he?" inquired Squeers.
"Stupid!" said Mrs. Squeers angrily. "He hadn't any money, had he?"
"Never had a penny of his own in his whole life, that I know of," replied Squeers.
"To be sure," rejoined Mrs. Squeers, "and he didn’t take anything to eat with him, that I'll answer for. Ha! ha! ha!"
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Squeers.
"Then of course," said Mrs. S., "he must beg his way, and he could do that nowhere but on the public road."
