structed expressions of endearment, and the coarser, but
none the less tender, responses of the virtuous Mrs. Winslow, whose life
had been shattered, heart smashed to atoms, and good name defamed, by
the tyrant man in the person of the weak but wealthy Lyon, and to think
how much nearer I was to the quarry than Fox himself, who in this
instance was making noble efforts to bring down his game without
"flushing" it.

For the sake of the public whose servant I have been for the last thirty
years, I would blush to put on paper what I know to have occurred in the
adjoining room, and which only served to further convince me of the
depths of infamy to which she had sunk; and I will pass on to those
things only necessary to acquaint the reader with my plan of operation
to bring her into the public notoriety and scorn which she had years
before only too richly deserved.

But a short time had elapsed after Mrs. Winslow and Le Compte had been
given their room when I heard Fox's footsteps coming along the hall. He
passed their room slowly, evidently locating it, and after a few moments
stealthily returned and listened at the door. He then stole away, but
returned again with a bold, firm step, as though conscious of being on
legitimate business, walked right up to the door and gave the knob a
quick turn, as if he had intended to at once walk into the room.

The door did not open, however, and Fox stepped back as if surprised,
saying: "Why, I can't be mistaken; the register surely said Room 30!"
while within there were quick, though smothered exclamations of
surprise, fright, and rage of an unusually profane nature.

Fox immediately returned to the attack as if certain that he was in the
right, and knocked at the door sharply.

There was no response but the quick hustlings about the room, from which
I, as an attentive listener with my ear close to the key-hole, learned
that the inmates were preparing for discovery.

Fox knocked again, this time louder and more persistently than at first.

I now plainly heard Mrs. Winslow ordering Le Compte under the bed among
the dust, bandboxes, and unmentionables, at which he protested with
innumerable "_Sacres!_" But she was relentless, and finally, seeing that
he would go no other way, took him up like a recalcitrant cur and flung
him under bodily.

Again Fox attacked the door, shook the knob furiously, and knocked loud
enough to raise the dead, following it up with: "Say you?--Jones? Why