“I suppose so,” answered Paul, not knowing what else to say, and wondering at the man's odd method of passing the time.
A long silence followed after this, only interrupted at intervals by guttural mutterings from the parrot, which seemed to be lodged somewhere in the upper regions of the obscure stairway. When the clock struck eleven, the bird shrieked out, as upon the previous night.
“Dorothy! Dorothy! it is bed time!”
Miss Guir arose, and saying “Good night,” left Ah Ben and Mr. Henley to themselves.
“I am afraid I have been very stupid,” said the old man, apologetically; “indeed, I must have fallen asleep, as it is my habit to take a nap in the early evening, after which I am more wide awake than at any other hour.”
“Not at all,” answered Paul, “I have been enjoying my pipe, and as Miss Guir seemed disposed to be quiet, think I must have been nodding myself.”
“Do you feel disposed to join me in another pipe and a midnight talk,” inquired the host, “or are you inclined for bed?”
Paul was not sleepy, and nothing could have suited him better than to sit over the fire, listening to this strange man, and so he again accepted eagerly. Ah Ben seemed pleased, declaring it was a great treat to have a friend who was as much of an owl as he himself was. And so he added fresh fuel to the dying embers, settled himself in his cosy corner by the fire, while Paul sat opposite.
“Every man must live his own life,” resumed Ah Ben; “but with my temper, the better half would be blotted out, were I deprived of this quiet time for thought and reflection.”
“I quite agree with you,” replied Paul, “and yet the wisdom of the world is opposed to late hours.”