GRIMSHAW, BAGSHAW, AND BRADSHAW.
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room—recognize him in a moment—follow him the next—prevail on the poor little fellow to find a night's lodging elsewhere—and now, thanks to that sliding panel which you so accidentally and so fortunately discovered, if uncle Towzer makes his appearance in that room, you'll slip into this; if he comes into this room, you'll slip into that; in short, you'll give him the slip either way.
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| Emily.
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Yes, capital! and in the meantime, my dear good aunt, who has always fought poor Bradshaw's battles with her good-for-nothing old wretch of a husband, has promised to send me word in case anything of importance occurs. (listening, and suddenly) Hark!
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| Fan.
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There's no danger, I've locked the door.
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| Emily.
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I'm sure I heard a noise.
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| Fan.
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Pshaw! what of that? I've examined the room thoroughly; that (pointing to closet door r. h. flat) is a mere closet, with shelves; and that door, (pointing to door l. h) which otherwise might have proved an awkward affair for us, is, luckily, firmly and securely nailed up.
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Here the door l. h. suddenly opens with a loud crash, and Bagshaw, with a cigar in his mouth, is thrown forward into the room.
| Fan. |
 Ah! (screaming and running to r. corner.
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| Emily
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| Bag.
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(seeing them—aside) Woman?—the devil! (aloud) Hush! don't be alarmed, ladies, I beg; and above all, don't scream, I implore!
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| Emily.
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But who are you, Sir? and what do you want, Sir?
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| Fan.
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Yes, Sir, what do you want, Sir? and who are you, Sir?
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| Bag.
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One at a time, ladies, if you love me!
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| Fan. |
Sir!
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| Emily
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| Bag.
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My name is Bagshaw—John Bagshaw, a medical student, at your service. I live in the adjoining apartment; and find one room not enough, I naturally concluded that door led to another;—the door wasn't disposed to yield—I was determined not to give way, and you—know the rest.
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