“Why?” said I.
“She has been very poorly all the evening, and she is in need of sleep.”
“Very good; then I will sleep too.”
So saying I pushed the mother to one side, and entering the girl’s room I found her in bed with someone who was hiding under the sheets.
I gazed at the picture for a moment and then began to laugh, and sitting down on the bed begged to enquire the name of the happy individual whom I should have the pleasure of throwing out of the window. On a chair I saw the coat, trousers, hat, and cane of the gentleman; but as I had my two trusty pistols about me I knew I had nothing to fear; however, I did not want to make a noise.
With tears in her eyes, and trembling all over, the girl took my hand and begged me to forgive her.
“It’s a young lord,” said she, “and I don’t even know his name.”
“Oh, he is a young lord, is he? and you don’t know his name, you little hussy, don’t you? Well, he will tell me himself.”
So saying, I took a pistol and vigorously stripped the sheets off the cuckoo who had got into my nest. I saw the face of a young man whom I did not know, his head covered with a nightcap, but the rest perfectly naked, as indeed was my mistress. He turned his back to me to get his shirt which he had thrown on the floor, but seizing him by the arm I held him firmly, with my pistol to his forehead.
“Kindly tell me your name, fair sir.”