"But he was at the Golden Shaft last night: he must have been there," insisted the dame, unable to divest herself of this opinion. "What became of him when the place shut up? What state was he in?"
"No, ma'am, he was not there," said Andrew, mildly, for he never liked contradicting.
"Stuff!" said Mrs. Bell. "There was nowhere else for him to go to. What did you do with him, Andrew Float?"
"I heve done naught with him," rejoined Andrew. "He kep' I and they t'other soes awaiting all the evening for him at the Golden Shaft; but he didn't come back to't."
"I know he was at the Golden Shaft pretty nigh all yesterday," retorted Mrs. Bell, angrily.
"He were," acknowledged Andrew. "He come back after his dinner, and stayed there along o' the rest of us: but he was pewerly silent and glum; we couldna get a word from him. Just as they were a-lighting up, Bell he gets off the settle, and puts on his hat; and when we asked where he was going, he said to do his work. Upon that, one o' they sees—old Perkins, I think it were—wanted to know what work; but Bell wouldn't answer him. He'd be back by-and-by, he said; and went out."
"And he did not go back again?" reiterated Dame Bell.
"No, ma'am, he didn't. Though we aal stayed a bit later than usual on the strength of expecting him."
"It's very strange," said she. "He came home here about seven o'clock, or between that and half-past—I can't be sure as to the exact time. I thought he had come for good; he was three-parts tipsy then, and I advised him to sit down and make himself comfortable. Not a bit would he heed. After standing a minute or so, twirling his stick about, and asking where Rosaline was, and this and the other, he suddenly pushes his hat down over his eyes, and out he goes in a passion—as I could tell by his banging the door. Of course he was going back to the Golden Shaft. There can't be a doubt of it."
"He never came to the Golden Shaft, ma'am," said Float.