188 THE BOARDING-HOUSE. 



again with another tray, containing glasses and jugs of hot and cold 

 water. The gentlemen brought in their spirit bottles ; the housemaid 

 placed divers brass bedroom candlesticks under the card-table, and 

 the servants retired for the night. 



Chairs were drawn round the table, and the conversation proceeded 

 in the customary manner. John Evenson, who never eat supper, 

 lolled on the sofa, and amused himself by contradicting everybody. 

 O'Bleary eat as much as he could conveniently carry, and Mrs Tibbs 

 felt a due degree of indignation thereat ; Mr. Gobler and Mrs. Bloss 

 conversed most affectionately on the subject of pill-taking and other 

 innocent amusements ; and Tomkins and Wisbottle ff got into an ar- 

 gument;" that is to say, they both talked very loudly and vehe- 

 mently, each flattering himself that he had got some advantage about 

 something, and neither of them having more than a very indistinct 

 idea of what they were talking about. An hour or two passed 

 away ; and the boarders and the brass candlesticks retired in pairs to 

 their respective bed-rooms. John Evenson pulled off his boots, 

 locked his door, and determined to sit up until Mr. Gobler had re- 

 tired. He always sat in the drawing-room about an hour after every- 

 body else had left it, taking medicine, and groaning. 



Great Coram-street was hushed into a state of the most profound 

 repose ; it was nearly two o'clock. A hackney coach now and then 

 rumbled slowly by ; and occasionally some stray lawyer's clerk on 

 his way home to Somers Town struck his iron-heel on the top of the 

 coal-cellar with a noise resembling the click of a smoke-jack. A 

 low, monotonous, gushing sound was heard which added considerably 

 to the romantic dreariness of the scene. It was the water " coming 

 in" at No. 11. 



" He. must be asleep by this time, 1 ' said John Evenson to himself, 

 after waiting with exemplary patience for nearly an hour after Mr. 

 Gobler had left the drawing-room. He listened for a few moments ; 

 the house was perfectly quiet; he extinguished his rushlight, and 

 opened his bed-room door. The staircase was so dark that it was im- 

 possible to see anything. 



" S s fit !" whispered the mischief-maker, making a noise like 

 the first indication a Catherine- wheel gives of the probability of its 

 going off. 



" Hush ! " whispered somebody else. 



Is that you, Mrs. Tibbs ?" 



" Yes, Sir." 



"Where?" 



" Here ; " and the misty outline of Mrs. Tibbs appeared at the 

 staircase- window, like the ghost of Queen Anne in the tent-scene in 

 Richard. 



" This way, Mrs. Tibbs;" whispered the delighted busybody: 

 " give me your hand there. Whoever these people are, they are in 

 the store-room now, for I have been looking down from my window, 

 and I could see that they accidently upset their candlestick, and are 

 now in darkness. You have no shoes on, have you ? " 



" No," said little Mrs. Tibbs, who could hardly speak for trem- 

 bling. 



