"I used to go and see them pretty frequently—at first just on account of this young fellow Barry who I had taken a liking to, and then because I liked the old man and the girl herself, whose voice was as sweet as the note of a thrush. She used to talk to me about Barry and made no secret of her loving him and all that.
"Well, one evening, I found she was in great trouble. Her father had had a paralytic seizure, and there were a couple of swell doctors attending him, and in the sitting-room was this old scientific bloke, Colonel Maclean, twirling his moustache and saying how very distressed he was and all that. He was mighty civil to me and took me down to Pfahlert's Hotel, where we had a drink or two, and he told me that he was deeply interested in Miss Maynard's welfare. Of course, I saw in a moment what he was driving at, and tried to do my best for Barry, saying that we (Miss Maynard and me) expected to see him back in a month or two, when they would be married.
"'Oh, indeed,' says the swab, 'how very interesting! I know Mr. Barry personally and have bought some very valuable ethnographical specimens from him. Good-night, Mr.—er, Mr. Watson.'
"Well, the next time I called at Miss Maynard's rooms I found that she and her father were gone—gone to Colonel Maclean's house, so the landlady said. I footed it out there and asked to see her. She came downstairs and met me, crying.
"'My father will never rise from his bed again, Mr. Watson,' she says, 'and I have promised to marry Colonel Maclean to-morrow. Here, take this, please,' and she hands me this very identical letter which I've just shown you, Tom. And married she was the very next day."
"It wasn't your fault, anyway, Sam," observed Mr. Craig, as he drank off his brandy-and-soda.
"Who said it was?" inquired the old mate indignantly; "I wasn't in charge of the girl, was I? But what has given me such a smack in the face is this, Tom; about a month after she was married I got a letter from Barry telling me all about his adventures—and damned queer adventures they are—and enclosing one to Miss Maynard."
"What did you do with it, Sam?"
"Posted it to her—to 'Mrs. Maclean, Carabella Villa, Darling Point,' and I got this," said Watson furiously, hauling another letter out of his pocket and reading it to his friend:—
"'Mrs. Maclean thanks Mr. Samuel Watson for his kind note and the letter enclosed received yesterday. In reply to Mr. Watson's sympathetic remarks concerning Mrs. Maclean's father's health, Mrs. Maclean is sorry to say that there is no improvement. Colonel Maclean wishes Mr. Samuel Watson to understand that the letter enclosed to his wife requires no answer.'"