Hark! where th’ inveytin’ drum o’ Mars
Athwart the far land rattles,
It minds me aye o’ wounds an’ scars,
O’ bruolliments an’ battles.
But Sargin’ Keyte wad fain persuade
It’s but the call of honour,
Where certain fortune shall be made,
By those who wait upon her,
Off han’ this day.
* * * * * *
I leyke the king, I leyke the state,
The kurk and constitution,
An’ on their foes buith soon and late,
Wish downfa’ an’ confusion.
But may nae frien’ o’ mine,
By cheats turn out that maizlin ninny,
To barter aw’ the Briton’s reeghts,
For nonsense an’ a guinea.
Wi’ Keyte this day.
_Rosley Fair._
ON the morrow the Sandboys received formal notice to quit the
establishment of Mrs. Fokesell on that day week.
What was to be done?
Where were they to go?
London was filling rapidly. In the extensive lodging district on the
southern side of the Strand, scarcely a bill was to be seen bearing the
significant inscription of
_APARTMENTS
TO BE LET,
ELEGANTLY FURNISHED._
and even where cards of vacant lodgings were to be seen, so enormous
were the present demands, that the economical mind of Mrs. Sandboys
stood aghast at the contemplation of the weekly outlay.
The Chelsea and Camden Town colonies of clerks she had explored; but
there nothing was to be had but bed-rooms for single gentlemen who were
expected to breakfast only on the premises.
The great commercial retreats of Stoke Newington, Haggerstone, Clapham,
and Camberwell, were likewise scoured in their turn, but with no better
success. Attics were quoted at ten shillings; second floors were at a
high premium; and very little parlours and drawing-rooms were letting at
very large prices.
The day of the opening of the Grand Exhibition was fast drawing near;
and the rumour had already spread over the country that the Queen
intended to open the “Great Glass Hive” in state. Already did the
streets swarm with straw-colour-haired Germans, and chicory-complexioned
Egyptians—already was Regent Street crammed with beards, full
pantaloons, and felt hats—already was the terminus of the Dover line
daily disgorging some hundreds of Parisians habited in quaint cut
cloaks, with hoods like huge jelly-bags dangling at their backs—already
were the thoroughfares at the West End crowded with holiday-looking
folk, and streams of gaily-dressed idlers seemed to be pouring in the
direction of some fair in the outskirts—hairs seemed to have sprung up
on the lips and chin of every other passerby in a night, like mustard
and cress—the huge waggons, piled high as the house-tops with large
wooden cases, each indorsed in bold letters,
FOR THE GREAT EXHIBITION OF ALL NATIONS,
had ceased to appear in the streets, and all seemed to be preparing for
the great fair—the world’s holiday.
The Sandboys held a family council, the result of which was, that it was
unanimously agreed it would be advisable, under the circumstances, for
them to retire some short distance from the metropolis; and accordingly
expeditions were sent out provisioned for the day, in search of the
suburban regions.
After considerable difficulty, a bill was discovered pasted in a
cheesemonger’s window, announcing that
“ANY NUMBER OF LADIES OR GENTLEMEN MAY BE ACCOMMODATED WITH
APARTMENTS FOR A LIMITED PERIOD, IN A HEALTHY SITUATION, WITHIN
A SIXPENNY RIDE OF THE GREAT EXHIBITION.
ENQUIRE WITHIN.”
This was too good news to let slip. Accordingly, Mrs. Sandboys no sooner
received the information from her son Jobby, than she sallied forth,
intent on ascertaining further particulars respecting the suburban
domicile. On her return, she informed Mr. Sandboys that she thought it
would be the “very thing” for them. The lodging was close to Wimbledon
Common, at an establishment for young ladies, where the Easter vacation
had been extended to a month, in honour of the opening of the Great
Exhibition. Miss Wewitz herself was at present staying, on a visit, with
one of her pupils in the metropolis; and Mrs. Wewitz had very properly
thought it a pity to allow so large a house, making up, as it did,
upwards of sixty beds, to remain unoccupied, just at a time when so many
strangers were wanting a place to put their head in.
The next day, Mrs. Sandboys made an excursion to Wimbledon, and came
back to Town delighted with the “ladies’ establishment.” Everything was
so scrupulously clean,—the bed-furniture and the boards were as white as
the Sour Milk Gill opposite their window at Buttermere; and the whole
place was so airy and beautifully ventilated, that she believed Jobby
might have flown his kite in the principal bed-room. Then the terms were
so moderate, and the lady so obliging—she really thought she was one of
the nicest old bodies she had seen for many a long day;—altogether, she
was quite in love with the place, and everything and everybody about it.
She had arranged, she said, to go in the very next day; for, really,
that spiteful old thing of a Mrs. Fokesell did make the house so
uncomfortable, that the sooner they got out of her power the better.
* * * * *
The next morning a cab was hired, to carry the Sandboys and their
luggage to the Waterloo terminus.
The parting with Mrs. Fokesell was by no means of a pathetic character,
though, when the time came for saying good bye, the landlady, who had
been considerably mollified by the payment of her bill, hoped as how
that bygones would be bygones, and acknowledged that she might have
behaved a little “hindiscreet” on the late occasion, but her blood was
up, she said, and then she wasn’t her own missus.
In a few hours afterwards, the family of the Sandboys were safely landed
at “Parthenon House,” Wimbledon Common.
Here nothing occurred to ruffle the serenity of their retirement for
some few days.
On the fifth day, however, from their entering the establishment, the
French master, who was _really_ a “Natif de Paris,” and had published a
sheet wherein the whole of the French genders were ingeniously reduced
to two, called to request that a friend of his might be accommodated
with a temporary apartment under that roof. His friend had come to
England to be present at the opening of the Great Exhibition, and wished
for a large airy room. The mother of the head of the establishment was
delighted to have the opportunity of disposing of her left wing—if the
gentleman would not object to the beds remaining in the apartment, for
she had no other place wherein to stow them. The French master observed,
that he was sure his friend and compatriot would be too happy to oblige
so young and beautiful a lady (the mother had long ago taken to false
fronts), and with this enchanting tara-diddle, he withdrew from the
premises, leaving the old lady to declare that there was a something—she
didn’t know what—about French manners, that to her mind far surpassed
the English.
The day after this, the French master accompanied his friend M. le Comte
de Sanschemise, who came in a large cloak, an immense Spanish hat, and a
small reticule-like carpet bag, to take possession of his apartment and
its extensive range of beds.
Now it so happened that the day after M. le Comte had entered the
ladies’ establishment, three thousand of the French Gardes Nationales,
who had come over to be present at the opening of the Crystal Palace on
the 1st of May, were deposited in the very heart of the metropolis by a
monster train from Dover.
To locate so large a colony in the foreign districts of London was
impossible. The Frenchmen were already ten in a room in all the purlieus
of Golden-square. Leicester, on the other hand, what with the world in
the centre, and the denizens of all nations swarming on every side of
it, was as full as it could well hold. The Quadrant had become as
Frenchified as the Palais Royal, and the boxes of the several cheap
Restaurants round about the Haymarket were swarming with parties of poor
Parisians, who invariably demanded portions for one and plates for six.
It was in this emergency that the French master of Parthenon House, who
was known to some of the troop, bethought him of the many spare beds in
the apartment of his friend, M. le Comte de Sanschemise, and immediately
proposed that as many of them should retire to that establishment as the
room could hold. For the sake of appearances, however, it was arranged
that they should proceed to the house in not more than two at one time,
and accordingly every conveyance that left London deposited its couple
of “citoyens” at the door of the Wimbledon Establishment for Young
Ladies.
By the close of the evening the arrivals had already amounted to
two-and-twenty, and during the next day nearly double that number were
brought to the gate.
Mrs. Wewitz had already been given to understand that two-and-twenty
Frenchmen had slept the night previous in the bed-room of the young
ladies belonging to the upper school, and now, to her great horror, she
saw the number of foreigners under her roof increased by couples almost
every half-hour throughout the day.
At dusk she thought it high time to remonstrate with M. le Comte, and on
requesting to be informed how many there were at present lodged in his
room, she was horrified to hear that, including himself, there were no
less than eight-and-forty occupants. She begged to remind the Comte that
she had let the room to him alone. But the Comte, with the greatest
politeness possible, assured her that he was at liberty to do with the
apartment as he pleased so long as he paid the rent for it, and that she
need not be under the least alarm, for that they were all perfect
gentlemen, and that many of them, like himself, were persons of title.
Mrs. Wewitz knew not what to do under the circumstances. To endeavour to
put eight-and-forty soldiers to the rout was more than she dare
attempt—and to call in the aid of the police would be, perhaps, not only
to cause bloodshed, but to get the whole affair published in the
newspapers, and so ruin the school; for what parent, as she justly
observed to herself, would dream of confiding an innocent daughter to
the care of an establishment where as many as four dozen foreigners were
in the habit of being located in one apartment alone. Then she was in a
state of continual alarm lest the Sandboys should discover the colony of
National Guards she had under her left wing; and how to keep their
presence a secret from them was beyond her power to conceive. If she
only dare venture to break the distressing intelligence to her daughter
in town, she perhaps might be able to bring the business to a happy and
speedy termination; but she knew that her dearest Cleopatra would never
forgive her imprudence. Then, again, how was she to get rid of the
fellows, even before the young ladies returned? for if they would not go
now, how was it likely that they would stir at a time when London would
have become more full, and there would then be the extra inducement of
the impudent fellows remaining on the premises to make love to the young
ladies? She would not have that Emily Bonpoint back while those wretches
of Frenchmen were about for all she was worth. For if she and her
daughter couldn’t be a match for her at other times, a pretty life she
would lead them with the left wing packed full of foreigners. It would
break her Cleopatra’s heart she knew when she came to hear of it, that
the filthy, dirty fellows had been sleeping two together in those
beautiful white beds of hers—though how they managed in the short,
narrow slips of things, was impossible to say. Besides, if there was one
thing that her daughter paid more attention to than another, it was the
morals of the tender plants that were placed under her culture—and she
would never forgive herself, she was sure, if with all those Frenchmen
under the roof any elopement should take place—for not one of them, she
was sure, had got a halfpenny to bless himself.
For a few days the Sandboys remained in a state of comparative ignorance
as to the small army that was then barracked under the same roof with
them. Jobby, to be sure, had noticed the number of men in red pantaloons
that continually kept going in and out of the premises; but, beyond a
passing remark, this had excited little or no astonishment.
Mrs. Sandboys moreover, had noticed, on the very first day of the
foreigners entering the establishment, a strong smell of tobacco smoke,
and a fogginess in every one of the rooms that she could in no way
account for; but this had worn off, and she had since paid but little
attention to the matter, for, whether from continual use her senses had
become in a measure accustomed to the smell, or whether from the
Sandboys being located at the other side of the house, it was difficult
to say, but certain it was, that after the first evening she had not
been heard to complain.
One night, however, the lady being rather nervous, after partaking
heartily of a cold rice-pudding for supper, she felt satisfied that she
heard some noise in the house. Sandboys had been fast asleep for some
time, but she thumped him on the back and confided to him her suspicions
that all was not right below stairs. But Cursty was too tired to trouble
himself much about the matter, so he merely murmured that it was all
owing to that cold rice-pudding she _would_ eat, and immediately
re-arranged himself for the continuation of his slumbers.
Mrs. Sandboys was too firmly convinced of the soundness of the
conclusion at which she had arrived, to be able to rest quiet in her
bed. She tried to close her eyes and shut out all thought of the
unpleasant circumstance from her mind, but it was useless; the noise
still forced itself upon her, and she could not help thinking of the
lonely situation of the house, so near that wicked London as it was.
They might all scream their very lives out before they could make any
one hear. Nor did the stories told of the highwaymen that in the last
century had infested the common, and the anecdotes she had heard of the
parties who used to wait at the road-side inn, at the corner of it, till
a sufficient number of travellers had arrived to allow them to cross the
deserted place in a body formidable enough to prevent their being
plundered.
Mrs. Sandboys, therefore, rose from her bed, determined to satisfy
herself whence the noise proceeded. At times she would declare that she
heard voices at the opposite side of the building. Accordingly, slipping
on her flannel gown, she proceeded with the rushlight shade to inspect
the premises.
She had not gone far in the direction of the other wing of the
establishment, when the smoke grew so thick that it was almost
impossible for her to see her hand before her, and it was of so pungent
a nature, that it almost blinded as well as stifled her. At first it
smelt to her very like the fumes of tobacco, but as she was not aware of
there being any one addicted to “the weed” in the “Establishment for
Young Ladies”—a taste, indeed, that seemed utterly at variance with the
feminine character of the institution—she got to be convinced that there
was some tarry substance smouldering away in one of the rooms, and that
it only required a breath of air to cause it to burst into a sheet of
flame, when they would be all burnt alive in their beds.
Perhaps, thought Mrs. Sandboys, there might yet be time to extinguish
the smouldering mass. Accordingly, she hurried back to her bed-room for
the jug of cold water, so that she might empty its contents upon the
burning body immediately she discovered whereabouts it lay.
The lady’s steps grew quicker and quicker, as, led by her nose, she
followed the smoke, sniffing away like a terrier at a rat-hole—while the
further she advanced the thicker the cloud became, until it was as much
as she could do to fetch her breath in it.
Nothing daunted, however, she proceeded with the cape of her
flannel-gown to her nose, and at length reached the doorway of the
apartment of the United Frenchmen, whence she perceived the fumes were
issuing. She opened the door cautiously, lest the flames, that she now
felt convinced were raging within, should burst out upon her—indeed, at
one time, as she stood outside shivering with fright, she was confident
that she could hear the “devouring element” roaring within; though,
truth to say, it was nothing more horrible than the snoring of the
drowsiest of the eight-and-forty foreigners.
As she entered the apartment, all was in such a fog of fume, that it was
impossible to distinguish a single object. Presently, however, she
caught sight of a burning mass—she knew not where or what it was—but
there she could see it, growing brighter and brighter at intervals, as
if the breeze were fanning it, and it wanted but a few minutes longer to
burst into flame.
Without hesitating for one moment, she dropped the rushlight shade on
the ground, and dashed the contents of the water-jug full in the
direction of the ignited body.
Immediately after the first splash, there was heard the panting of some
one gasping for breath, and then a hoarse cry of—“Sacr-r-re mille nommes
de tonnerre!”
Mrs. Sandboys no sooner heard the sound of a man’s voice—and that man a
Frenchman—than, letting the empty water-jug fall with a loud crash, she
uttered a shrill scream, and flew from the man’s apartment in the
direction of her own.
The astonished and drenched Frenchman, who, like the rest of his
comrades, had been indulging in the Parisian luxury of a pipe in bed,
and who had fallen asleep with his large “meerschaum” still alight in
his mouth, hearing the shriek of a female, immediately sprang from his
bed, and darted off after the lady, in the hope of making her explain
and apologize for the unceremonious manner in which she had roused him
from his slumbers.
Mrs. Sandboys, however, had so good a start of the foreigner, that she
was able to reach her apartment before he could lay hold of her; and
then rushing into it, she slammed to the door, and throwing herself upon
her beloved Cursty, fell shrieking and kicking and crying, “There’s a
man, Cursty—there’s a man!”
Mr. Sandboys, on being roused so suddenly, required to shake himself two
or three times before he could collect himself sufficiently to
comprehend whether or not he was finishing the nightmare that the cold
rice-pudding had produced. At length, however, he had a vague,
indistinct recollection of his wife having previously roused him with an
alarm of thieves; so, making up his mind that this was the cause of his
Aggy’s fright, and that she had been actually pursued by some daring
burglar, he dashed from his bed-room armed with a good stout stick.
Immediately outside the door he encountered the Frenchman, who was busy
in the dark, feeling for some mark by which he could recognise the
apartment in the morning. Cursty no sooner laid hands upon the strange
man, than he prepared to seize him by the throat. On attempting to do
this, he discovered, to his great surprise, that the supposed
housebreaker was “bearded like the pard;” accordingly, he grasped, with
a tight hold, the hairy appendage to the foreigner’s chin with one hand,
while with the other he proceeded, with his ash stick, to belabour him,
in his shirt as he was, till his cries raised the whole house.
Then the ladies, maids and all, threw up the windows of their bed-rooms,
and proceeded, some to shriek “Police!” others to scream “Murder!” and
“Thieves!” while the rest busied themselves with springing the entire
battery of watchmen’s rattles that were kept, for the safety of the
young ladies, always at hand on the premises.
Mrs. Wewitz, when she discovered the cause of the disturbance, was more
alarmed than ever; for she plainly began to perceive that the
eight-and-forty Frenchmen, whom in a moment of weakness she had admitted
within the sacred precincts of “Parthenon House,” would ultimately bring
ruin upon the hitherto unsullied reputation of her daughter’s
“Establishment for Young Ladies.”
Mrs. Sandboys, on becoming acquainted with the fact that she and her
daughter were living beneath the same roof with nearly half a hundred
Frenchmen, grew extremely uneasy at not only the proverbial amatory
tendency of the dispositions of _jeune France_, but the equally
notorious want of cleanliness in the natives of the same enlightened
country.
Not a moment would she allow Elcy to be out of her sight, for she knew
that even when she herself accompanied her for a walk round the
playground, the nasty impudent fellows were all up at their windows in a
moment, and kept continually dropping notes of assignation done up as
“_cornichons_” of sweetmeats on to her parasol as they passed.
But what troubled her perhaps quite as much was, the utter absence of
all weekly contributions of linen for the wash on the part of the united
eight-and-forty Parisians. She had made particular inquiries on this
subject of Mrs. Wewitz, just to satisfy herself whether the rumoured
indifference of _la belle France_ for a change of linen was in any way
founded upon truth, and when that lady assured her that though the four
dozen had been in her house upwards of a fortnight not so much as a
shirt front even, or a pair of socks, had they forwarded to the
laundress.
The cleanly Mrs. Sandboys became so horrified at the idea of a small
battalion being shut up in the same house as herself, without having so
much as a change of linen for two entire weeks, that she did not
hesitate to tell the alarmed Mrs. Wewitz that now the warm weather was
coming on, they would be sure to be having a malignant fever break out
on the premises; for it was the universal opinion of the best medical
authorities, that all of the most dangerous diseases arose merely from
dirt—and serve the people quite right too, she said; she didn’t pity one
of the nasty filthy things. But it was only for the poor young ladies’
sakes that she spoke, for most likely they’d be coming back just in the
thick of it. She would only ask Mrs. Wewitz to picture to herself what
the small-pox would be among sixty young ladies, the majority of whom
perhaps had nothing but their good looks to depend upon for their
advancement in life; besides vaccination, she must well know, was held
to be of no good after seven years, and as Miss Wewitz, her daughter,
didn’t receive any young ladies under that age, she might readily
imagine the ravages that such a pestilence would be likely to make in
such a place, and the number of poor miserable old maids that they’d
have to answer for.
The urgent appeals of Mrs. Sandboys took so firm a hold on the mind of
Mrs. Wewitz, that she said she would do anything that Mrs. Sandboys
might think best. Whereupon, that lady suggested that, as it was Monday,
she should be allowed to send Ann Lightfoot up to the Frenchmen, and
desire to know whether they had any “things” for the wash—at least, Mrs.
Sandboys said, it would shame them into making up some bundle, however
small it might be.
Accordingly, Ann Lightfoot was dispatched on the errand, with strict
orders to bring back the answer as quickly as possible.
Some considerable time elapsed, however, before the maid returned with
the reply, what washing the gentlemen needed, they said they themselves
did; and in proof of the truth of the statement, the maid told her
mistress that on entering the room, she found the Count and some of the
Officers around the wash-hand basin busily engaged in soaping and
rubbing away at their dirty collars.
The message once delivered, Mrs. Sandboys began to question the girl as
to the cause of her delay. The maid, in a confused manner, endeavoured
to stammer out that she couldn’t make the gentlemen understand her.
Mrs. Sandboys, however, observing, on a close scrutiny of the girl’s
appearance, that her cap was awry, desired her to come closer to her,
and then taking hold of her, she turned the maid round, and to her
horror discovered imprinted on her cheek a series of exact copies in
“_cire de moustache_” of every shape and variety of mustachio. Then
seizing the girl by the arm, she dragged her round to the looking-glass,
and begged to be informed whether it was necessary for the Frenchmen’s
lips to be placed so near to her before they could make her understand
what they meant.
Ann Lightfoot coloured crimson as she perceived that the black wax with
which the Parisians were in the habit of darkening their beards, had
left its mark upon her skin, and bursting into tears, she said it was
impossible for her to get away from them; for first it was one, and then
the other, till at last she really thought that they would have torn her
to pieces among them, and if there was one, added the girl, that was
wuss than another, it was the one as said he only wished he could have
caught hold of you, mum, if you please, the other night.
Mrs. Sandboys gave a faint scream at the bare idea of such an accident
having occurred to her; and feeling in no way inclined to continue the
conversation, after the unpleasant turn it had taken, she desired the
girl to go below, and take good care how she trusted herself again
within a mile of those impudent foreigners.
Some two or three days after the above occurrence, Mrs. Wewitz, who now
began to keep a strict eye upon all the movements of the detachment of
the _Garde Nationale_ quartered within her domicile, hastened up to the
sitting-room of Mrs. Sandboys to inform her that she verily believed
every one of the fellows had left the house for a stroll. She had
counted forty-seven of them go out of the gate, and she was convinced
she must have made a mistake of one somewhere, for though she had been
up to their room, and listened at the door for nearly half-an-hour, she
could not hear a soul stirring—and now she added, “My dear, it will be a
good opportunity for us to see the state in which the room really is,
for, with the exception of Ann Lightfoot, not a creature has ever been
in it—no, not even to make their beds, since the first day they took
possession of the place.”
Mrs. Sandboys was as eager for the survey as Mrs. Wewitz herself, and
accordingly they started off together, intent upon having what the
ladies called a “good rout out” of all the things during the absence of
the Frenchmen.
On reaching the bed-room, they stood for some few minutes outside,
listening, but hearing no sound within, they ventured to push the door
open, so that they might be able to have a full view of the apartment,
and satisfy themselves of there being no one in it before they ventured
upon entering.
Not a creature was to be seen, so the two ladies crept cautiously in;
and no sooner did Mrs. Wewitz set eyes on the coffee colour of the once
white dimity bed-curtains, than she threw up her hands, as if in despair
of ever seeing them a “good colour” again. Then placing the corner of
the counterpane to her nose, the smell of stale tobacco was almost
overpowering. How she should ever sweeten them for the young ladies, was
more than she could tell.
Mrs. Sandboys next drew her attention to the state of the boards—the
very boards which it was her pride to hear all who saw them say they
could eat their dinner off them—and now, owing to the four dozen
foreigners not possessing so much as one spittoon among them, they were
stained over with the juice and ashes of tobacco. The bright bars and
sides of the stove, too, were all spotted red with rust.
On a chair in the middle of the room stood the blacking bottle and
brushes, and beside them, on one of the white toilet-covered tables, was
a basin half full of inky water, in which the gallant sons of “_la belle
France_” had recently rinsed their hands and faces—near this was a
bottle of bandoline for gumming down the hair, and an old tooth-brush
standing up in it—the only tooth-brush to be seen in the place. Lying
next to these was a dirty, mangy-looking hair-brush, with several sticks
of different coloured _cires de moustache_—looking like the ends of
candles—and a bottle of lavender water. On the mantelpiece stood a pair
of curling-tongs, a leaden whisker-comb, and a pot of patent polish for
the boots, while above were ranged the entire pipes of the fraternity.
Pinned to a string that stretched across the room from bed to bed, hung
a couple of shirt fronts, left to dry, together with several dozen pairs
of fresh-cleaned, lemon-coloured kid gloves, that emitted a strong smell
of turpentine.
As the two ladies “poked about” the apartment, each seemed to find
especial delight in dragging the other to witness some fresh evidence of
filth or foppery that she had just discovered; and while they were thus
agreeably engaged, speaking in whispers to one another, Mrs. Sandboys,
who had ventured to stray further into the depths of the apartment than
the more cautious Mrs. Wewitz, had almost reached the end of the
chamber, when, to her horror, she discovered some one fast asleep in one
of the beds. All that was visible above the clothes was the upper part
of a head, profusely done up in curl papers.
Mrs. Sandboys no sooner caught sight of the “crackers,” than, breathless
with indignation, she hurried back, on tiptoe, to her companion, and
whispered in her ear, “My dear, there’s a woman in one of the beds!”
“A wo——!” Mrs. Wewitz was about to scream, when Aggy placed her hand on
the lady’s mouth.
“Yes, a woman, my love! I tell tha I saw her curl-papers,” ejaculated
Mrs. Sandboys, in a subdued tone of the deepest horror.
“The wretches!” cried Mrs. Wewitz, “they’ll be the ruin of us all—they
will; but I’ll soon have the hussy out!” and so saying she hurried
towards the bed which Mrs. Sandboys had indicated; and seizing the
sleeper by the shoulders, began shaking the individual violently.
The suddenness and severity of the agitation roused the slumberer, when
lifting his head up from under the clothes, he displayed to the
terrified ladies a huge beard and pair of mustachios.
“Its a brute of a man, after all!” screamed Mrs. Wewitz, as she let go
the shoulders of the hirsute Parisian.
“Goodness, gracious!” shrieked Mrs. Sandboys, and away they both
scampered out of the apartment.
As they hastened back to their sitting-room, they met Ann Lightfoot on
one of the landings, and communicating to her what had happened, the
girl begged to know whether the man’s beard was red?
On being answered in the affirmative, she told the horror-stricken Mrs.
Sandboys that it was the same man as had run after her the other night,
and who assured her yesterday that he only wished he could have caught
her; he’d have served her out finely.
“He was the wust of the whole bunch,” Ann Lightfoot said.
Mrs. Sandboys gave a faint scream, for, as she observed to Mrs. Wewitz,
she shouldn’t wonder but what the nasty hairy brute of a fellow would be
imagining that she was in love with him, and then what on earth would
become of her!
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