“We! who, pray?”
“Oh! the neighbours came, you know, uncle; and—Mr. Ashburn—”
“Give the devil his due,” interposed Ashburn; “you know very well that the whole concern would have gone if it hadn’t been for that young feller.”
“What young fellow? where?”
“Why here,” said Silas, pulling forward our young stranger; “this here chap.”
“Young man,” began Mr. Keene,—but at the moment, up came somebody with a light, and while Clarissa retreated behind Mr. Ashburn, the stranger was recognised by her aunt and uncle as Charles Darwin.
“Charles! what on earth brought you here?”
“Ask Clary,” said Ashburn, with grim jocoseness.
Mr. Keene turned mechanically to obey; but Clarissa had disappeared.
“Well! I guess I can tell you something about it, if nobody else won’t,” said Ashburn; “I’m something of a Yankee, and it’s my notion that there was some sparkin’ a goin’ on in your kitchin, and that somehow or other the young folks managed to set it a-fire.”