'So I thought,' said Mr. Dunn; 'something woollen.'
'We must see to this at once,' cried the manager, and rushed out.
The others rushed with him, and after a prolonged amount of sniffing made their way up the stairs leading to number ten. As they advanced the smell grew stronger, and they came upon a vast quantity of smoke, which they soon found proceeded from number ten itself, where the atmosphere was so dense that it was impossible to see across the room. There was no trace of any flame, but when the windows had been thrown open it was discovered that the hearth-rug and a portion of the carpet around it were smouldering slowly, and were nearly consumed. Bells were rung and water was brought, though long before it arrived the inspector and the sergeant had removed any further cause for fear by stamping out the fire with their heavy boots.
The manager was very cross; he did not quite see how he could explain the matter at the next meeting of the directors, and ask for a new carpet. He had intended to show his temper to Mr. Dunn, but that gentleman he saw was far too savage himself to brook being spoken to.
'It is most annoying,' said Mr. Dunn. 'I am only here for a day on my way to Ireland and this accident occurs. The silly woman who lit the fire did not bring a guard for it. I am unused to fires; I live in a warm climate; but some friends of mine told me never to sit by a fire in England unless it had a guard on it. I looked for a guard before I left the room, but could not find one, and I thought it would be all right.'
The manager was full of apologies.
'Should they move Mr. Dunn to another suite of rooms? They could do so at once.'
'No, thank you,' said Mr. Dunn in reply. 'It is unfortunate, but still it is an accident, and could not have been prevented. I will sleep in the bedroom to-night, and I should not have used the sitting-room much, as I am a stranger in Liverpool, and I want to see all that is to be seen on this the only day I have. In the mean time, I shall be thankful if you will prepare me a little dinner, some fish and a chop, in the coffee-room, and I will come down to it as soon as I have washed my hands and face, which seem to be tolerably blackened by the smoke.'
When the manager and the servants had taken their departure--the inspector and sergeant had gone long since--Mr. Dunn retired to his bedroom, and, after turning the key in the door, took off his coat and waistcoat, and seated himself on the edge of the bed.
'So far so good,' he soliloquised; 'so far everything that I have done has been perfectly successful. My personal identity ceased on my leaving America, and no one can have found any traces of Mr. Dolby, the cynical millionaire, in Tom Summers, the sailor, or Mr. Dunn, the soft-spoken tourist. One night more and I shake the dust of this land from my feet, and can fairly consider myself scot free. That was a lucky idea of mine to strew those cinders on the hearth-rug; the smell of Tom Summers' smouldering rags might have awakened the keen suspicions of those police gentry downstairs. That flannel shirt was beginning to smoke confoundedly before I left the room, but that is now all provided for; the police themselves were the first persons to see what had occurred, and helped to extinguish the smouldering carpet. Not one precaution has been omitted, and, distrustful of myself as I generally am, I begin to look with pride upon my powers of organisation as exhibited in this matter. If my orders have only been implicitly obeyed in America, all I could have looked for is accomplished. One more night of acting and character-playing, and I can rest in peace, and return to reap the reward of all I have gone through.'