of all with a few mouthfuls of tamarinds, as he intended
to do at intervals throughout his labours, he plunged his hands into a
mass of incongruous substances--nitre, chlorate of potass, and sulphur
being amongst them.

The Misses West, meanwhile, had resumed their work after supper, and
they sewed until the clock struck ten. Then they put it away, and drew
round the fire for a chat, their feet on the fender. A very short while,
and they were surprised by the entrance of Jan.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Miss Amilly. "It's never you yet, Mr. Jan!"

"Why shouldn't it be?" returned Jan, drawing forward a chair, and
sitting down by them. "Did you fancy I was going to sleep there?"

"Master Cheese thought you would keep it up until morning."

"Oh! did he? Is he gone to bed?"

"He is in the surgery," replied Miss Amilly. "Mr. Jan, you have told us
nothing yet about the wedding in the morning."

"It went off," answered Jan.

"But the details? How did the ladies look?"

"They looked as usual, for all I saw," replied Jan.

"What did they wear?"

"Wear? Gowns, I suppose."

"Oh, Mr. Jan! Surely you saw better than that! Can't you tell what sort
of gowns?"

Jan really could not. It may be questioned whether he could have told a
petticoat from a gown. Miss Amilly was waiting with breathless interest,
her lips apart.

"Some were in white, and some were in colours, I think," hazarded Jan,
trying to be correct in his good nature. "Decima was in a veil."

"_Of course_ she was," acquiesced Miss Amilly with emphasis. "Did the
bridemaids--"

What pertinent question relating to the bridemaids Miss Amilly was about
to put, never was known. A fearful sound interrupted it. A sound nearly
impossible to describe. Was it a crash of thunder? Had an engine from
the distant railway taken up its station outside their house, and gone
off with a bang? Or had the surgery blown up? The room they were in
shook, the windows rattled, the Misses West screamed with real terror,
and Jan started from his seat.

"It can't be an explosion of gas!" he muttered.

Bursting out of the room, he nearly knocked down Martha, who was
bursting into it. Instinct, or perhaps sound, took Jan to the surgery,
and they all followed in his wake. Bob, the image of terrified
consternation, stood in the midst of a _debris_ of glass, his mouth
open, and his hair standing-upright. The glass bottles and jars of the
establishment had flown from their shelves, causin