“Let’s wait till to-morrow, then,” said Harry. “We’ve no reasonable excuse for turning them out at this hour of the night. Let’s go to bed.”
“Very well,” I said. “Jane, take the candles into No. 16, and turn out the gas.”
Jane took the candles, and presently she came down and said, “Please, ma’am, the gentlemen say they’ll turn out the gas themselves.”
“Very well,” I said. “Then, Harry, you’ll have to sit up, for I’m not going to leave the house at the mercy of these two fellows. They’ll go to bed and leave the gas full on, or turn it off and turn it on again, and there’ll be an escape, and we shall all be blown up, or some fine thing.”
“All right, my dear; anything to please you. I don’t mind sitting up,” said Harry; “only don’t fidget yourself so, for goodness’ sake, or you’ll be ill.”
I said I shouldn’t fidget if he sat up, and I went to bed; but I was awfully wild, because we didn’t want that sort of people at our quiet little place. It was very good of Harry to sit up, and he certainly is very kind and considerate, and I dare say I was fidgety and nervous; but I hadn’t been very well, and the least thing upset me. The doctor said it was “nerves,” and I suppose that was what it was. I had had a bad illness, and that had left me low, and the least thing upset me. I think I told you at the time Harry wanted me to go away to the seaside and get better; but I wouldn’t do that, for I should have been fidgeting all day and all night, lest something should go wrong while I was away.
I went to bed, leaving Harry in the bar-parlour smoking his pipe, and reading the newspaper; and after a bit, I fell fast asleep.
When I woke up it was just getting light. I turned to look for Harry. He wasn’t in bed.
I went hot and cold all over.
“Harry!” I called out.