"Don't think about it, Mamie," I admonished; "and please forgive me for frightening you so."
"Yessah—yessah," she said, and went down the back stairs.
That is all that happened that night.
XVI
I shall go as little as possible into detail of what occurred on the day following the landing of the Martian rocket on the water-front, and the discovery of its terrifying occupant, who had been our guest over-night. By nine o'clock, the general demoralization of our household was utter and complete. Several of the servants had handed in their resignations, declaring they wouldn't sleep in the place another night, "with that thing in it!" Mamie Sparks, the colored laundress, had vanished at dawn. Jane had collapsed, which helped further to upset the household routine.
There was nothing I could do but to face it out. One thing I was thankful for, the calm and unruffled physiognomy of our new butler, Schweizer, who had taken Orkins' place, a middle-aged, round-faced German, who apparently had the proverbial goose's back, upon which rain has no effect.
In the midst of startling events, Jane's collapse really concerned me most. In a poor state of nerves myself, I finally induced Pat to accompany me to Jane's apartment, in an early forenoon gesture to cheer her up. As she was in bed, I did not make my presence known at first, choosing to remain in an adjoining room, where I could easily hear everything that was said between her and Pat.
Pat had no sooner entered the bedroom when Jane showed the nervous tension under which she was laboring. "I shan't sleep a wink as long as that thing stays in the castle," she said.
"Oh, nonsense! You are acting perfectly absurd, Aunt Jane," Pat returned, in a manner light and gay, but even the casual listener could have noted that Pat herself did not favor the idea of Henry's harboring this monstrous creature. "Why, this funny man-ape is as harmless as a poodle dog."