Merridew at the further end of it. Does
anybody wonder that I got home at half past twelve instead of half past
ten? How thoroughly heartless that person must be! And how earnestly I
hope I may never make that person's acquaintance!
My servant handed me a morsel of paper when he let me in.
I read, in a neat legal handwriting, these words--"If you please, sir, I
am getting sleepy. I will come back to-morrow morning, between nine and
ten." Inquiry proved that a boy, with very extraordinary-looking eyes,
had called, and presented my card and message, had waited an hour, had
done nothing but fall asleep and wake up again, had written a line for
me, and had gone home--after gravely informing the servant that "he was
fit for nothing unless he got his night's rest."
At nine, the next morning, I was ready for my visitor. At half past
nine, I heard steps outside my door. "Come in, Gooseberry!" I called
out. "Thank you, sir," answered a grave and melancholy voice. The door
opened. I started to my feet, and confronted--Sergeant Cuff.
"I thought I would look in here, Mr. Blake, on the chance of your being
in town, before I wrote to Yorkshire," said the Sergeant.
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