And so saying, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
I sprang out of bed in a great passion, pulled back the curtain, flung the sash up, and then went to the door, intending to lock it, and save myself from the villain’s intentions, whatever they were; but to my deep annoyance I found there was no key. To remedy this, I thrust a chair under the handle, and a small table against the chair, and got into bed, puzzling my brains over the fellow’s design, and wondering what my uncle would think, when I told him that his sleek O’Twist was a midnight ruffian. “May I be hanged twenty times over, if I don’t sleep at Updown to-morrow night,” I growled, kicking about under the single sheet, and wishing my uncle Dick, and Teazer, and his house, and his servants, and everything that belonged to him in Jehanum.
My anger, however, didn’t prevent me from falling asleep. In truth, I had been thoroughly tired by my journey, my walk from the station, the great heat, and the fatiguing dance my uncle had led me through the grounds. But I was not to sleep long. A violent crash awoke me, and my first impression was that the house had been struck by a thunderbolt.
I hopped out of bed wide awake, and stood watching the fat figure of O’Twist, who was picking up the chair and table he had knocked over in pushing open the door.
“Be off!” I shouted, darting at him.
He skipped aside, his braces trailing in his wake, but instead of leaving the room, seized a chair, which he brandished with both hands, crying, “You’d betther not touch me! I’m a moorderous man whin my blood is up! you’d betther not touch me!”
“I’ll kill you,” I gasped, “if you don’t leave this room at once! How dare you intrude upon me a second time?”
“Let me shut the window, sor—let me pull the curtains tew—you’ll be much aisier in you’re moind wid de moon hid—indade you will, sor,” he answered, jamming himself into a corner and holding the chair over his head.
I looked at him aghast. It was quite clear to me that he was raving mad. The moonlight had penetrated his brain, and he was clamouring to have it hid! Wasn’t it well known, that all mad people raged when the moon was full? I mustn’t be violent. No, no. He must be humoured, or he might dash my brains out.
“Look here,” said I, “if I close the window and draw the curtains, will you promise not to break in upon me again?”