Fiction > Book editions > London, 1885 - Dynamiter

132 New Arabian nights.
from one to another, seeking light, safely and the com-
panionship of human faces ; when these resources failed
him, he fell back on the belated baked-potato man ; and
at length, still pacing the streets, he was goaded to
fraternise Avith the police. Alas, with what a sense of
guilt, he conversed with these guardians of the law ; how
gladly had he wept upon their ample bosoms ; and how
the secret fluttered to his lips and was still denied an
exit ! Fatigue began at last to triumph over remorse ;
and about the hour of the first milkman, he returned to
the door of the mansion ; looked at it with a horrid
expectation, as though it should have burst that instant
into flames ; drew out his key, and when his foot already
rested on the steps, once more lost heart and fled for
repose to the grisly shelter of a coffee-shop.
It was on the stroke of noon when he awoke. Dis-
mally searching in his pockets, he found himself reduced
to half-a-crow^n ; and when he had paid the price of his
distasteful couch, saw himself obliged to return to the
Superfluous Mansion. He sneaked into the hall and stole
on tiptoe to the cupboard where he kept his money.
Yet half a minute, he told himself, and he would be free
for days from his obseding lodger, and might decide at
leisure on the course he should pursue. But fate had
otherwise designed : there came a tap at the door and
Zero entered.
' Have I caught you ? ' he cried, with innocent gaiety.
' Dear fellow, I was growing quite impatient.' And on
the speaker's somewhat stolid face, there came a glow of
genuine affection. ' I am so long unused to have a
friend,' he continued, ' that I begin to be afraid I may
prove jealous.' And he wrung the hand of his landlord.
Somerset was, of all men, least fit to deal with such
a greeting. To reject these kind advances was beyond
his strength. That he could not return cordiality for
cordiality, was already almost more than he could carry.
That inequality between kind sentiments which, to gene-
rous characters, will always seem to be a sort of guilt,
oppressed him to the ground ; and he stammered vague
and lying words.