“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.
“‘Your master and mistress sleep late,’ I said.
“‘Yes, sir, they were up late last night,’ she replied while twisting the child’s golden ringlets around her fingers, in pure idleness, for they did not need curling.
“I went away and staid away for about an hour, and then returned to the sitting-room. No sound from the bedroom yet. No change in the sitting-room, except that the nurse had taken a seat at the corner of the table with the child on her lap, and was feeding him from a bowl of milk and bread.
“‘Your master and mistress not up yet?’ I ventured to say.
“‘No, sir, and no sign of them; I am giving little Crowy his supper, and am going to put him to bed. And if the bell don’t ring by that time, I shall make bold to knock at the door and wake them up. Because, sir, I’m getting uneasy. Something might be the matter, though I don’t know what,’ said the girl, anxiously.