who pretended not to hear.
“—Heerd a noise,” continued Mr. Giles. “I says, at first, ‘This is illusion’; and was composing myself off to sleep, when I heerd the noise again, distinct.”
“What sort of a noise?” asked the cook.
“A kind of a busting noise,” replied Mr. Giles, looking round him.
“More like the noise of powdering a iron bar on a nutmeg-grater,” suggested Brittles.
“It was, when you heerd it, sir,” rejoined Mr. Giles; “but, at this time, it had a busting sound. I turned down the clothes”; continued Giles, rolling back the tablecloth, “sat up in bed; and listened.”
The cook and housemaid simultaneously ejaculated “Lor!” and drew their chairs closer together.
“I heerd it now, quite apparent,” resumed Mr. Giles. “ ‘Somebody,’ I says, ‘is forcing of a door, or window; what’s to be done? I’ll call up that poor lad, Brittles, and save him from being murdered in his bed; or his throat,’ I says, ‘may be cut from his right ear to his left, without his ever knowing it.’ ”
Here, all eyes were turned upon Brittles, who fixed his upon the speaker, and stared at him, with his mouth wide open, and his face expressive of the most unmitigated horror.
“I tossed off the clothes,” said Giles, throwing away the tablecloth, and looking very hard at the cook and housemaid, “got softly out of bed; drew on a pair of—”
“Ladies present, Mr. Giles,” murmured the tinker.