Mr. Gerzson, however, fell to like a man. He had generally a good appetite, and the lack of a dinner, the worry and trouble of the journey, and the labour of driving had made him hungrier than ever. He cut such whacking slices off the loaf and off the good red ham beside him that it was a joy to watch him; after he had raised the cluck-clucker[38] to his lips, his conversation became so entertaining that Henrietta listened to him with delight.
[38] I.e., the wine-flask.
"But now I am not going to drink any more," said Mr. Gerzson at last, "for it is apt to make me sleepy and I don't want to sleep to-night. About midnight the coachman will arrive with the fresh relay of horses. Won't your ladyship rest a little in the adjoining room?"
Henrietta shook her head.
"Well, I suppose you are right. How indeed could you remain all alone in the room of a suicide? Let us stay together then and tell each other tales."
"Yes, that will be nice, and I'll begin by telling papa Gerzson something."
"I could go on listening to you till morning, it will be like the angels singing in my ears."
So Henrietta began to tell him all about the dead hostess and about her love, and also the story of the robber who was hanged for his companion.
Mr. Gerzson, with his head supported by his hand, listened religiously and struck himself violently on the mouth when he was seized by an involuntary fit of gaping.
"I cannot understand why I am so sleepy,—my eyes seem to be closing in spite of me."