in agony at this his discomfiture? He wanders, beyond controversy, on this side the Styx, having no obol, or prospect of one, in his purse. His mind is distraught when he thinks of the dominion that has been wrested away from him, and he curses drains and good food and soap and-water. Where now is his long scaly retinue? Where his innumerable palaces? Where his faithful allies? And St. Lazarus and his Order, where are they? Ah me, Leprosy! things are strangely altered.
TENANTS AT NUMBER TWENTY-SEVEN.
It was number twenty-seven of a quiet London street, the name of which it is needless to specify here. It had stood empty for a considerable time, and such of the neighbours as were of a speculative turn of mind had begun to wonder among themselves how much longer it would remain without a tenant; when one chill, misty autumn morning, shortly after daybreak, a cab drove up to the empty house, from which alighted a tall, gaunt, middle-aged gentleman, of soldier-like aspect, attired in a foraging cap and a long grey military cloak; whose face was half concealed by a thick tangle of beard and moustache, once black, but now becoming wintry with age. Beneath the shaggy gloom of his eyebrows burnt a strange, restless, fitful fire; and when he removed his cap for a moment, and the whole of his worn and rugged face became visible, the deep tracks and furrows left by care or sickness—perhaps by both—came prominently into view. He held in one hand a small leather-bound box, on the top of which was a tiny brass plate, with “Captain Luard” engraved thereon. He gazed suspiciously up and down the street as he alighted, and at the still undrawn blinds of the opposite houses; nor seemed over-well pleased when he beheld a policeman, moist and red-nosed in the early morning, looking on from over the way with a calmly contemplative glance.
Having satisfied himself that no one else was a witness of his arrival, Captain Luard turned round, and assisted a tall slender young lady to alight, evidently his daughter, from the likeness which, in spite of the difference in sex and age, existed between them; who was followed out of the cab by a tall raw-boned female of severe aspect, dressed in faded black bombazine, and who held in one hand a pair of pattens, and in the other a band-box tied up in a cotton handkerchief. Captain Luard, accompanied by his daughter, ascended the steps, unlocked the door, and entered the house. The female in black, whom the captain addressed by the name of Parish, having paid the driver, at once followed her master; and the door was immediately closed, double-locked, and bolted.
They passed on from one room to another, slowly, and without speaking; for there is something solemn in a large and empty house, especially if seen in the twilight of morning or evening. It was chill and damp outside; but within the walls seemed as though they held prisoner the cold moist atmosphere of a graveyard, nipping the very marrow of those who entered, waking prolonged and hollow echoes of their footsteps, and making the loudness of ordinary conversation seem a profanation of the dim solitude.
“Surely a large house, papa?” whispered the young lady, when they had seen most of the rooms. “Would not a smaller one have satisfied our wants? Our furniture will not fill half of these large rooms.”
“Not too large for the heiress to the Pinchbeck estates,” said the captain, with an extensive sweep of the arm and and of his grey moustache. “Besides, Carry, I never could bear to live in those pottering little holes where common people contrive somehow or other to exist. Spacious and lofty rooms are one of the necessities of life to a gentleman. And then again, you know,” he added mysteriously, laying his hand on her arm, “they will never think of looking for me here. That’s the grand point—to throw them off the track till I’ve had time to complete my case and set them at defiance. For they will shrink from nothing—no, no!—nothing, nothing! Not even my life will be safe from them if they discover my retreat!”
His sallow cheeks flushed as he spoke, and a wild will-o’-the-wisp fire burned in his eyes. He turned and left the room; and tramped heavily up the sounding stairs, still carrying the leather-bound box, till he reached a small room at the very top of the house. Opening a little closet which was built in the wall, he placed the box within it, and having locked the door, proceeded to survey the rest of the rooms up-stairs.
The furniture arrived in the course of the morning. Captain Luard was restless and uneasy till it was all properly fixed, and the men who brought it had departed. Seated on a large box, he then proceeded to give his instructions to his little household.
“You are both of you aware,” he began very gravely, “for what reason I have taken this house. It will continue to present from the street the appearance of being empty and to let. The shutters of the lower front rooms will remain closed; and the upper rooms will remain, as they are now, empty. You, Parish, will take up your quarters in the basement kitchen; you, Carry, in the room to the back immediately over it; while one of the small rooms up-stairs will serve me for a study. Once every evening, Parish, after dark, you will be allowed to go out for the purpose of buying the needful supply of provisions; at which times I will let you out and in myself, and will teach you how to knock so that I may recognise you. Oh! if we can only succeed in remaining concealed for a short time, all will go well. Time is all I want. A few short weeks—perhaps even a few short days—and everything will be clear, and I shall triumph. The other day (was it the other day, though? I almost forget) I had the whole case clearly mapped out in my head; but some one interrupted me, and it all slipped from me in a moment. But it must be found again; for it lies there—there, in my little box—waiting for me. To-morrow I shall begin.”
The captain kept his room for the remainder of the day, except when he came down-stairs to let Parish out, and again to admit her when she returned with provisions. He retired to bed at