TRICKS AT NIGHT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 1374, 23 July 1872, Page 3

TRICKS AT NIGHT.

(From the Argosy. CContinued.} I can't say but I felt a little vexed at rayse'f; though I was by no means easy about the gas If this was a nightly oaeurrence, we might some night 'find ourselves blown up. But I got to sleep at ljr ?t. "It will not be a pleasant . task to uudeceive the Dunns about their.- servants," I '■■ remarked to Robeit iv the morning while he was shaving. He turnei round, the lather oa his chin, " Say nothing. It will not do, Nelly. Never interfere between Mends and their servants, wherever you may be." " But the danger, Robert. IE- — " " For goodness sake, don.'fc be so childish," returned he, iv quite an angry tone; " I tell you there's no danger whatever; and your own common sense might show you there's none. You're not going to walk ia your sleep, I suppose, and turn these taps on." At breakfast nothing was said of our not ■ having slept perfectly well all night. Mr | Dunn did not take- the meal with us, but came in to say good morning. At his busy seasons — and this \va3 one — he was up and at work before seven, and had his breakfast cau'ied in to him on a tray. His partner had [ been in ill- health a long while, and could not come to business, so that Mr Dunn had it all on bis shoulders. Robert went out directly; and Mrs Dunn and her sister took me downstairs to see the house, as. promised. The offices ou the ground floor were two good rooms, Mr Dunn's particular room being the back one. At the end of the passage, before descending, was a third room. It appeared to have in it, amongst other things, a sofa-bed, a large table, on which stood a desk, an easy oWr, and a red carpet. " That is Mr Mowbray's room," said Catherine Massingham, pushing the door wider open aa we passed it; " his sittingroom and bedroom combined." " Who is Mr Mowbray ? His name was mentioned last evening." "He is the confidential clerk. You will see him on Sunday, when he always dines with v*. On other days his meals are served in this room. The servants kept were two — Jenkins the cook, Ruth the housemaid; the office boy cleaning knives and boots. Both wera re-spectable-looking, capable women of some thirty years; quite too old to play, as Robert phrased it, at high jinks in the stealthy night, and let on the gas when they were supposed to be in bed. The maids* bedroom, large and conven'ent, was up a passage level with the kitchen. I had no idea they did not sleep up-stairs; and of course saw the facility they had for playing tricks with the gas. There wrs again some laughing about my ignorance of gas mysteries, and Jenkins was called to show me the working of what she cp'led the key — a great twisted iron handle which she turned on and off at will, when the " main " had to be turned or unturned. Had it been to save my life, and in spite of Robeii-'s injunction, I could not help prtting a home question as we stood there in the coal cellar, with gathered up skirts, Jenkins twirliug the key about, Ruth holding the lighted candle. "Do you never turn the gas on again at night aCter it has been turned off ?" "Never," affirmed Jenkins, s-'aring boldly into my face wbile Bhe said it; why should I, ma'am ?" I could not say why— to her. Ruth, a particularly neat person, with blue eyes, and a colour, put in hor word. " It's ma-ter's rules to have all gaslights out at balf-past ten. We should not think, ma'am, of going again 'em." The great story-fellers ! " Do you like your servants to sleep dowa there ?" I asked of Mra Dunn, when we were upstairs again. "Yes. Why not?" " It eeems to me they must have so great an opportunity for always doing m they please -for deceiving you; how are you to know that they don't sit up half the night ?" " We can trust our servants, thoroughly, Mrs Wyatt; they have been with us some years." " Still— there's the opportunity." " Ob, of course; some servants would n©

I . doubt misuse it; there are numbers of bad servants in London, quite untrustworthy; but I lours are different." > I had pictured Mr Mowbray nan elderly t ;man — though I hardly know why, when he ; : came up to dinner on Sunday (on that day ■ dinner was taken early, after church) I found him a young one; he could not hare been ■ more than eight-and- twenty ; was plain in • the face, with a quantity of stiff black b-ur ■ and very shy and silent. " Mowbray's manners are nothing," whispered Mrs Dunn to me; "-but for work he's worth his weight in gold." ( >n the Monday night Robert had to see a i gentleman at the Tavistock Hotel. It was past eleven when he came in. The gas, knpt alight a little longer than usual, waiting for him, was put out at about a quarter to eleven, and two wax candles, taken from the mantelpiece were lighted. To wb ; !e away the time, Catherine Massingham said she would tell my fortune. " Don't let it be aboufe fire," said I, impulsively. " Why, what do you mean ?" she asked. I turned it off with a laugh. No sooner hai she got the cards than Robert came in. Tie night was very warm for the time of the year (April). One of the windows was open, and Hobert stretched himself out of it while we finished. It was a poor fortune after all, and did not take many minutes in the telliog. " What does Mr Mowbray do with his evenings ?" I asked of Catherine, the thought suddenly occurring to me as she was putting up the cards " He spends them out always, unless there's work to do; which is very rarely the case. Some club, I believe, he goes to — Mr Dunn knows. He comes in at ten as regularly as the clock strikes." " High jinks below to-night, Nelly,'' cried Hobcrt, as he stood winding up his watch in our room. "How do you know ?" " Well, whin I got home here my cigar was only Ixalf .smoked out, so I walked übout a bit before the houses,- although I was behind time. Rather fantastical, by the way, of Dunn to go to bed always so punctually early. While I was walking, I saw two gentlemen go down the area steps, and get admittance." "No 1 Gentlemen ?" " Gentlemen in grimy clothes; they looked something like railway stokers." " Why, Robert, the gas was out then !" '•Of course it was; I could see that." " Who were they, I wonder ?" " Visitors to Ruth and Jenkins." " What a shame !" " I wish ihis room faced the Btreet. I'd watch at what hour my gentlemen take their departure." "la that what you were looking from th« window at, Robert ?" " Yes." " And you say we ought not tell Mr and Mrs Dunn ?" " Not a bit of it ; let people find out the good and ill of their servants for themselves, Nelly." As he spoke he pulled forward the gaspipe, turned the screw, • and applied the ' matoh ; but without result. j "No gas to-night, at any rate, Nelly." '. I had some work to do — clean cuffs and a [ collar to tack on my morning gown, if auybody's curious on the point— and was mt ready for bed till past twelve. Something prompted me to try the gas again the last thing. It blazed up at the touch of the match. •« Robert 1 Do you see ?" " I see." murmured, nleepy Robert from the pillow, just opening his eyes. " High jinks" ( But for me, I lay awake half the n : ght, uneasily thinking. I did not like it, and t that was the tiuth. The matter eeemed to , lay hold on me. As the nights of the week L went on, a nervous sort of fasciDit'on, if you Can call it so, compelled me to try those gns- , lights often, sometimes one, sometime the ', other, sometimes both. And I found that they never could be lighted before twelve [ o'clock, or after two in the morning. So '. that the servants' revelry continued over those two hours. Robert groaned and scolded, [ and vowed I should woiry myself into fidd'e- , stiings ; bat he would not hear of c -yd* "^3 , being said to Mr and Mrs Dunn. 1 On the Saturday, news reached us up- ' stairs that the cook was ill. She bad c ught a bad cold on her chest, and could birdly, Ruth said, do her work. I recommend I ; some herb tisane that the French f ike for i this, at?d went down to show them how to t make it. Jenkins sat by the kitchen fire, an old red antimacassar on her shoulders, and a piece cf flannel round her tbroat. She got : up and apologised, but I f ->)d her to sit : still. " This cold has been hanging 6n m 6 aH thd week," she Baid ; " last Monday evening, i while I was hot with my cooking, I bad to run round the stn.it for pie for the up-stairs . dinner ; our barrel had tr-ned tr-'ck ; I caught it then." I h jked round at her from the t-.ble where , I stood. Monday was the night ttit Pobert had seen the men steal in. •' Caught it on Monday night, did you, Jenkins f " "If I d'dn'fc, ma'am, I don't know when , else I did." " Monday night," said I de'iberately — and what impulse it was wbich prompted me to speak, I did not stay to ask. " I remember that night, Jenkins, for qrUe a curious thing bippenedto me. You — you tuvned off the gas at the main as mbv\ that night, d'd you not ?" 1" In course I turned it off," replied Jenkins, afier a stare and a pause. I" Yes, for I watched it die away out of the drawing-room burners, after Mr Dunn called out Lo you. Well, happening to want a light upstairs in my room that night, I lighted oue of the burners there, and— and it did light." ' C T ® toe continued.)