Page:Reading for winter evenings.pdf/19

19 and to-morrow you can ride to town, and do as you think proper."—"My good niece," said the captain, "I am but an indifferent sleeper; and I am afraid things would run in my head, and keep me awake. Besides, I am naturally impatient, and love to do my business myself. You will excuse me." So saying, he took up his hat, and without much ceremony went out of the house, and took the road to town on foot, leaving his two nieces somewhat disconcerted.

When he arrived, he went without delay to the place mentioned, which was a by-street near Soho. The people who kept the lodgings informed him that the person he inquired after had left them several months, and they did not know what was become of him. This threw the captain into great perplexity; but, while he was considering what he should do next, the woman of the house recollected that Mr. Bland (that was the drawing-master's name) had been employed at a certain school, where information about him might possibly be obtained. Captain Cornish hastened away to the place, and was informed by the master of the school that such a man had, indeed, been engaged there, but had ceased to attend for some time past. "He was a very well-behaved, industrious young man," added the master, "but in distressed circumstances, which prevented him from making that genteel appearance which we expect in all who attend our school; so I was obliged to dismiss him. It was a great force upon my feelings, I assure you, Sir, to do so; but you know the thing could not be helped." The captain eyed him with indignant contempt, and said, "I suppose then, Sir, your feelings never suffered you to inquire where this poor creature lodged, or what became of his afterwards?"—"As to that," replied the master, "every man knows his own business best, and my time is fully taken up with my own concerns; but I believe I have a note of the lodgings he then occupied—here it is." The captain took it, and, turning on his heel, withdrew in silence. He posted away to the place, but there, too, had the mortification of learning that he was too late. The people, however, told him that they believed he might find the family he was seeking in a neighbouring alley, at a lodging up three pair of stairs. The captain's heart sunk within him; however, taking a boy as a guide, he proceeded immediately to the spot. On going up the narrow creaking staircase, he met a man coming down with a bed on his shoulders. At the top of the landing stood another, with a bundle of blankets and sheets. A woman with a child in her arms was expostulating with him, and he heard her exclaim, “Cruel! not to leave me one bed for myself and my poor children!"—"Stop!"