"Certainly not," admitted Mrs. Berners.

"Well, sir, the next morning after such a carousal, I naturally expected

my guests to sleep late, so I was not surprised that the stillness of

their rooms remained unbroken by any sound even up to ten o'clock. At

that hour however, the bank opened, and I went myself to get my check

cashed. There, sir, I got another check. Judge of my astonishment when

the cashier, after examining Mr. Horace Blondelle's paper, declared that

he knew no such person, and that there was no money deposited in that

bank to the credit of that name."

"It was a swindle!" exclaimed Mr. Berners, impulsively.

"It was a swindle," admitted the landlord. "Yes, sir, a swindle of the

basest sort, though I did not know it even then. I was inclined to be

angry with the cashier, but I reflected that there was probably a

mistake of some sort; so I hurried back home and inquired if Mr. Horace

Blondelle had shown himself yet. I was told that he had not yet even

rung his bell. Then I went to his private parlor, which had been the

scene of last night's dinner giving and Sabbath breaking. The servants

of the house had removed all signs of the carousal, and were moving

noiselessly about the room while restoring it to order, so as not to

disturb the rest of Mr. and Mrs. Horace Blondelle in the bedroom

adjoining. I told my people that, as soon as Mr. Blondelle should awake,

they must tell him that I begged leave to wait on him on a matter of

business. It is as well to say, that while I lingered in the room, the

nurse came in with the child, a pretty, fair-haired boy of five years

old. They occupied a little chamber at the end of the passage, in easy

reach of the child's mother. The nurse came in, hushing and cautioning

the child not to make a noise, lest he should wake up poor mamma and

papa, who were so tired. I mention this little domestic incident

because, in some strange way that I cannot begin to understand, it

quieted my misgivings, so that I went below and waited patiently for the

rising of Mr. Horace Blondelle. Madam, I might have waited till this

time!" said the landlord, pausing solemnly.

"Why? go on and tell me!" impulsively exclaimed Mrs. Berners.

"Why? I will soon let you know. I waited until long after noon. And

still no sound from the bedroom. I walked in and out of the

sitting-room, where the table was set for breakfast, and still no sound

from the bedroom. And in the sitting-room no sound of occupation but

the waiting breakfast-table in the middle of the floor, and the nurse

seated at one of the windows with the impatient child at her knee.




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