NIGHT THE SIXTH.

MORE CONSEQUENCES.


The landlord did not make his appearance on the next morning until
nearly ten o'clock; and then he looked like a man who had been on
a debauch. It was eleven before Harvey Green came down. Nothing
about him indicated the smallest deviation from the most orderly
habit. Clean shaved, with fresh linen, and a face, every line of
which was smoothed into calmness, he looked as if he had slept
soundly on a quiet conscience, and now hailed the new day with a
tranquil spirit.

The first act of Slade was to go behind the bar and take a stiff
glass of brandy and water; the first act of Green, to order
beefsteak and coffee for his breakfast. I noticed the meeting
between the two men, on the appearance of Green. There was a
slight reserve on the part of Green, and an uneasy embarrassment
on the part of Slade. Not even the ghost of a smile was visible in
either countenance. They spoke a few words together, and then
separated as if from a sphere of mutual repulsion. I did not
observe them again in company during the day.

"There's trouble over at the mill," was remarked by a gentleman
with whom I had some business transactions in the afternoon. He
spoke to a person who sat in his office.