suit, and wore a crowned hat, and carried a club in his hand, and he
appeared to be one of the vagrom-men as they are called, who are at the
bottom of all riots and such like things. He was a smallish man in his
height, but his face was the strangest thing about him; and in the light
from the lamp I thought at first that he had some kind of deformity in
it. For his mouth was, as it were in the very midst of his face; there
was a little forehead above, with eyes set close beneath it, and a
little nose, and then his mouth, turned up at the corners as if he
smiled, and beneath that a vast chin, as large as the rest of his face.

He cried out "Lard!" as I ran against him; by which I understood him to
say "Lord!"

I asked his pardon.

"O Lard!" he said again, "'tis nothing, sir. My apologies to you, sir."

I bowed to him civilly again, and passed on; but as I knocked upon Mr.
Fenwick's door, I saw that he was staring after me, from the entrance to
that same passage from which he had come.

* * * * *

My second adventure was that, upon coming upstairs, I found that in the
chamber with Mr. Fenwick were the mother and sister of Mr. Ireland,
waiting for him to come and take them back to their lodging. They were
quiet folks enough--a little shy, it appeared to me, of strange company.
But I did my best to be civil, and they grew more talkative. Mrs.
Ireland would be near sixty years old, I would take it, dressed in a
brown sac, such as had been fashionable ten years back, and her