ther peculiar and particular in that respect."
"Then there were no offshoots from the old STOCK," said Gabriel.
Nevertheless, this pet joke of Gabriel's did not dissipate the
constraint and disappointment left upon the company by Uncle Sylvester's
unsatisfying performance and early withdrawal, and they separated soon
after, Kitty and Marie being glad to escape upstairs together. On the
landing they met two of the Irish housemaids in a state of agitated
exhaustion. It appeared that the "sthrange gintleman" had requested that
his bed be remade from bedclothes and bedding ALWAYS CARRIED WITH HIM
IN HIS TRUNKS! From their apologetic tone it was evident that he had
liberally rewarded them. "Shure, Miss," protested Norah, in deprecation
of Kitty's flashing eye, "there's thim that's lived among shnakes and
poysin riptiles and faverous disayses that's particklar av the beds
and sheets they lie on. Hisht! Howly Mother! it's something else he's
wanting now!"
The door of Uncle Sylvester's room had slowly opened, and a blue
pyjama'd sleeve appeared, carefully depositing the sheaf of bows and
arrows outside the door. "I say, Norah, or Bridget there, some of
you take those infernal things away. And look out, will you, for the
arrowheads are deadly poison. The fool who got 'em didn't know they were
African, and not Indian at all! And hold on!" The hand vanished, and
presently reappeared holding two rifles. "And take these away, too!
They're loaded, capped, and NOT on the half-cock! A jar, a fall, the
slightest shock is enough to send them off!"
"I'm dreadfully sorry that you should find it so uncomfortable in our
house, Uncle Sylvester," said Kitty, with a flushed cheek and vibrating
voice.
"Oh, it's you--is it?" said Uncle Sylvester's voice cheerfully.
"I thought it was Bridget out there. No, I don't intend to find it
uncomfortable. That's why I'm putting these things outside. But, for
Heaven's sake, don't YOU touch them. Leave that to the ineffable ass who
put them there. Good-night!"
The door closed; the whispering voices of the girls faded from the
corridor; the lights were lowered in the central hall, only the red
Cyclopean eye of an enormous columnar stove, like a lighthouse, gleamed
through the darkness. Outside, the silent night sparkled, glistened, and
finally paled. Towards morning, having invested the sturdy wooden outer
walls of the house and filmed with delicate tracery every available
inch of window pane, it
|