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number of opposite ingredients； such as mischief； cunning； malice；
triumph； and patient expectation； were all mixed up together in a
kind of physiognomical punch； Miss Miggs composed herself to
wait and listen； like some fair ogress who had set a trap and was
watching for a nibble from a plump young traveller。
She sat there； with perfect composure； all night。 At length； just
upon break of day； there was a footstep in the street； and presently
she could hear Mr Tappertit stop at the door。 Then she could
make out that he tried his key—that he was blowing into it—that
he knocked it on the nearest post to beat the dust out—that he
took it under a lamp to look at it—that he poked bits of stick into
the lock to clear it—that he peeped into the keyhole； first with one
eye； and then with the other—that he tried the key again—that he
couldn’t turn it； and what was worse； couldn’t get it out—that he
bent it—that then it was much less disposed to come out than
before—that he gave it a mighty twist and a great pull； and then it
came out so suddenly that he staggered backwards—that he
kicked the door—that he shook it—finally； that he smote his
forehead； and sat down on the step in despair。
When this crisis had arrived； Miss Miggs； affecting to be
exhausted with terror； and to cling to the window…sill for support；
put out her nightcap； and demanded in a faint voice who was
there。
Mr Tappertit cried ‘Hush！’ and； backing to the road； exhorted
her in frenzied pantomime to secrecy and silence。
‘Tell me one thing；’ said Miggs。 ‘Is it thieves？’
‘No—no—no！’ cried Mr Tappertit。
‘Then；’ said Miggs； more faintly than before； ‘it’s fire。 Where is
it； sir？ It’s near this room； I know。 I’ve a good conscience； sir； and
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would much rather die than go down a ladder。 All I wish is；
respecting my love to my married sister； Golden Lion Court；
number twenty…sivin； second bell…handle on the right…hand door…
post。’
‘Miggs！’ cried Mr Tappertit； ‘don’t you know me？ Sim； you
know—Sim—’
‘Oh！ what about him！’ cried Miggs； clasping her hands。 ‘Is he in
any danger？ Is he in the midst of flames and blazes！ Oh gracious；
gracious！’
‘Why I’m here； an’t I？’ rejoined Mr Tappertit； knocking himself
on the breast。 ‘Don’t you see me？ What a fool you are； Miggs！’
‘There！’ cried Miggs； unmindful of this compliment。 ‘Why—so
it—Goodness； what is the meaning of—If you please； mim；
here’s—’
‘No； no！’ cried Mr Tappertit； standing on tiptoe； as if by that
means he； in the street； were any nearer being able to stop the
mouth of Miggs in the garret。 ‘Don’t！—I’ve been out without leave；
and something or another’s the matter with the lock。 Come down；
and undo the shop window； that I may get in that way。’
‘I dursn’t do it； Simmun；’ cried Miggs—for that was her
pronunciation of his Christian name。 ‘I dursn’t do it； indeed。 You
know as well as anybody； how particular I am。 And to come down
in the dead of night； when the house is wrapped in slumbers and
weiled in obscurity。’ And there she stopped and shivered； for her
modesty caught cold at the very thought。
‘But Miggs；’ cried Mr Tappertit； getting under the lamp； that
she might see his eyes。 ‘My darling Miggs—’
Miggs screamed slightly。
‘—That I love so much； and never can help thinking of；’ and it is
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impossible to describe the use he made of his eyes when he said
this—‘do—for my sake； do。’
‘Oh Simmun；’ cried Miggs； ‘this is worse than all。 I know if I
come down； you’ll go； and—’
‘And what； my precious？’ said Mr Tappertit。
‘And try；’ said Miggs； hysterically； ‘to kiss me； or some such
dreadfulness； I know you will！’
‘I swear I won’t；’ said Mr Tappertit； with remarkable
earnestness。 ‘Upon my soul I won’t。 It’s getting broad day； and the
watchman’s waking up。 Angelic Miggs！ If you’ll only come and let
me in； I promise you faithfully and truly I won’t。’
Miss Miggs； whose gentle heart was touched； did not wait for
the oath （knowing how strong the temptation was； and fearing he
might forswear himself）； but tripped lightly down the stairs； and
with her own fair hands drew back the rough fastenings of the
workshop window。 Having helped the wayward ’prentice in； she
faintly articulated the words ‘Simmun is safe！’ and yielding to her
woman’s nature； immediately became insensible。
‘I knew I should quench her；’ said Sim； rather embarrassed by
this circumstance。 ‘Of course I was certain it would come to this；
but there was nothing else to be done—if I hadn’t eyed her over；
she wouldn’t have come down。 Here。 Keep up a minute； Miggs。
What a slippery figure she is！ There’s no holding her； comfortably。
Do keep up a minute； Miggs； will you？’
As Miggs； however； was deaf to all entreaties； Mr Tappertit
leant her against the wall as one might dispose of a walking…stick
or umbrella； until he had secured the window； when he took her in
his arms again； and； in short stages and with great difficulty—
arising from her being tall and his being short； and perhaps in
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some degree from that peculiar physical conformation on which
he had already remarked—carried her upstairs； and planting her；
in the same umbrella and walking…stick fashion； just inside her
own door； left her to her repose。
‘He may be as cool as he likes；’ said Miss Miggs； recovering as
soon as she was left alone； ‘but I’m in his confidence and he can’t
help himself； nor couldn’t if he was twenty Simmunses！’
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Chapter 10
t was on one of those mornings； common in early spring；
when the year； fickle and changeable in its youth like all other
I
created things； is undecided whether to step backward into
winter or forward into summer； and in its uncertainty inclines now
to the one and now to the other； and now to both at once—wooing
summer in the sunshine； and lingering still with winter in the
shade—it was； in short； on one of those mornings； when it is hot
and cold； wet and dry； bright and lowering； sad and cheerful；
withering and genial； in the compass of one short hour； that old
John Willet； who was dropping asleep over the copper boiler； was
roused by the sound of a horse’s feet； and glancing out at window；
beheld a traveller of goodly promise； checking his bridle at the
Maypole door。
He was none of your flippant young fellows； who would call for
a tankard of mulled ale； and make themselves as much at home as
if they had ordered a hogshead of wine； none of your audacious
young swaggerers； who would even penetrate into the bar—that
solemn sanctuary—and； smiting old John upon the back； inquire if
there was never a pretty girl in the house； and where he hid his
little chambermaids； with a hundred other impertinences of that
nature； none of your free…and…easy companions； who would scrape
their boots upon the firedogs in the common room； and be not at
all particular on the subject of spittoons； none of your
unconscionable blades； requiring impossible chops； and taking
u