“Muster Gray, I’d have you to know, Muster Gray, as this house is—”
The lady had got so far when she saw that there was no Muster Gray, to hear the piece of her mind, and her eyes dilated as she glanced round the room and saw nothing but vacancy.
On the table lay a little piece of paper, and on the little piece of paper lay some money. Mrs. Strangeways clutched at both, and, as she afterwards declared, “you might have knocked her down with a small feather” when she read,—
Mrs. Strangeways’ rent. Her lodger, Jacob Gray, is going to the other end of the world, and he has taken his nephew with him.
The lady gave a great shriek (after pocketing the money), which roused the house, and in a few minutes the room was full of company, among whom was Albert Seyton, with apprehension in his looks.
“Good Heavens!” he cried, “is anything the matter with Harry?”
“What is it—what is it?” cried a dozen voices at once.
“Oh, that villain, Jacob Gray!” gasped Mrs. Strangeways.
“Where is he?” cried everybody.
“At the other end of the world,” replied Mrs. Strangeways.