"My dear," said his mother; "you have made all the plates and dishes jump, and have nearly upset the water-bottle."
"Excuse me, mother; I really must go to my room."
He rose, made a sign to his characters, and they all rose and trooped after him into his private apartment.
When they were within he said to his hero: "May I trouble you kindly to shut the door and turn the key? My mother will be anxious and come after me, and I want a word with you all. It will not take two minutes. I see my way to our mutual accommodation. Do not be uneasy and suspicious; I will make no further attempt at evasion. Meet me to-morrow morning at the 9.48 down train. I am going to take you all with me to Swanton."
A tap at the door.
"Open—it is my mother," said Joseph.
Mrs. Leveridge entered with a face of concern. "What is the matter with you, Joe?" she said. "If we were not both of us water-drinkers, I should say that you had been indulging in—spirits."
"Mother, I must positively be off to Swanton to-morrow morning. I see my way now, all will come right."
"How, my precious boy?"
"I cannot explain. I see my way to clearing up the unpleasantness caused by that unfortunate novel of mine. Pack my trunk, mother."