By what confounded ill-luck they had got into his possession I could not imagine; but there they were. The dean touched them as if he felt their very touch an abomination, threw them on the table, and briefly said—“These, sir, were found in your rooms this morning. Can you explain how they came there?”
True enough, Leicester had been trying on the abominable articles in my bedroom, and I had stuffed them into a drawer till wanted. What to say was indeed a puzzle. To tell the whole truth would no doubt have ended the matter at once, and a hearty laugh should I have had at the dean’s expense; but it would have put the stopper on She Stoops to Conquer. It was too ridiculous to look grave about; and blacker grew the countenance before me, as, with a vain attempt to conceal a smile, I echoed his words, and stammered out—“In my rooms, sir?”
“Yes, sir, in your bedroom.” He rang the bell. “Your servant, Simmons, most properly brought them to me.”
The little rascal! I had been afraid to let him know anything about the theatricals; for I knew perfectly well the dean would hear of it in half an hour, for he served him in the double capacity of scout and spy. Before the bell had stopped, Dick Simmons made his appearance, having evidently been kept at hand. He did look rather ashamed of himself, when I asked him, what business he had to search my wardrobe?
“Oh dear, sir! I never did no sich a thing; I was a-making of your bed, sir, when I sees the tag of a stay-lace hanging out of your topmost drawer, sir—(I am a married man, sir,” to the dean apologetically, “and I know the tag of a stay-lace, sir)—and so I took it out, sir; and knowing my duty to the college, sir, though I should be very sorry to bring you into trouble, Mr Hawthorne, sir”——
“Yes, yes, Simmons, you did quite right,” said the dean. “You are bound to give notice to the college authorities of all irregularities, and your situation requires that you should be conscientious.”
“I hope I am, sir,” said the little rascal; “but indeed I am very sorry, Mr Hawthorne, sir”——
“Oh! never mind,” said I; “you did right, no doubt. I can only say those things are not mine, sir; they belong to a friend of mine.”
“I don’t ask who they belong to, sir,” said the dean indignantly; “I ask, sir, how came they in your rooms?”
“I believe, sir, my friend (he was in my rooms yesterday) left them there. Some men wear stays, sir,” continued I, boldly; “it’s very much the fashion, I’m told.”