"Screech owl!" rejoined Mr Cornstick, for it was he who had spoken; "how the deuce can a screech owl upset chairs, smash the crockery, and make such an infernal to do as that? Get a light, sir."
All this while I was like to choke with laughter. "Jinker," said I, "bring a light here, and don't alarm the family. Tell Mr Cornstick it is only an owl that has got, I can't tell how, into my room—nothing more." I heard Mr Cornstick laugh at this, and say a word of comfort to Mrs Cornstick, as I supposed, and she again began to console a wee skirling Cornstick, that I concluded was their bedfellow, and then shut the door.
Creak—another door opened—"Diana!" said Miss Cornstick, in great alarm—"Good gracious! what is all that, Diana?"
"Noting, misses, but one fight between de leetle sailor buccra and one howl."
"So, here's a mess! The whole Cornstick family—men, women, and children—set alive and kicking in the dead of night, by me and my uninvited visitor!"
Presently Jinker appeared with a lighted candle, but by this time the owl was nowhere to be seen.
"How him get away, massa? I no see him."
No more did I. We continued our search.
"Him cannot possib have creep troo de keyhole."
"I should rather think not," said I; "but there he was, perched up in that corner, when I first saw him. He was sitting on that very shelf. Where the deuce can the creature have stowed himself?"