The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-07-21
"Nol at what number in Old Inn do

y Ninel aeDhQes 3he little gentiemen;
''and Mr.. Smith lives ct No. 10, and you
do not know him." Foi3
"No."t. ~ ego y b.
Not over pleased, the Frenchman turns
to me, and Mr.. Firth, very much pleased,
turns away from us both. ,l.-..
"And are you from London too?" he
begins, as. though had taken q part in
the previous conversation.
Mr.. Frith's back being towards US, I
don't mind answering the little fellow,
seeing that he doesn't care whether 1
come from London or Timbuctoo, but
eat his dinner in silence. So I say,
''Yes, 1 come from London. All Eng.
lishmen seem to live in London. don't
they?" -
''Oh! but it is such large city! From
what part of London do you Gomez"
cold Inn.
"Again Old Inn," he says, with n
smile. "Perhaps you know Mr.. Smith,
at No. 10?"
II only know him by sight" I an
swer; and then, for the fun of increasing
the little gentleman's astonishment, I
add; II live at No. o."
The words are hardly spoken when
the Frenchman, with true politeness
pushes back his chair. "Then you and
this gentlemen touching Mr.. Firth s
arm, ''are travelling together, and have
separated you and prevented your talk
ing. L am so sorry. Will you take my
seat and be next your friend?"
He is just rising for us to exchange
chairs. when put my hand upon his
shoulder and whisper, "Thank you. I
thank you. No. 1 do not know that
gentleman.
The little fellow mods rs if he under
stood, and then says, also speaking in n
whisper, 'You have quarreled then? 1
beg your pardon, if. L have been disa-
greeable to you"
ooh! not at ALL We have never spoken
to each other.
"What!" he cries, forgetting now to
speak in in an under tone; ''you two live
in the same house, and you do not know
one another! All, well" putting O hand
on our arms and smiling at both of us,
'fyou will know one another now, and be
great friends for the future"
There is no help for it. "I shall have
greht pleasure" says Mr.. Firth, with q
freezing bow. And I bow likewise, and
in o like manner, but say nothing.
Then follows pause, during which
the diners begin to leave the table; so
we three rise and stand by our chairs,
still with the Frenchman in the mid
de-
"Come!" he says, presently, and sud-
denly laughing; lyon two have been
making fun of me. Is it not SO? You
are friends travelling together"
Mr.. Firth Immediately denies this
statement. and,' having done SO, walks
away to- a window, which looks out upon
Mont Blanc. After what has passed, 1
feel that the one who first leaves the room
will be obliged to make some remark, or
do some little act of courtesy to the
other; and to avoid the burden of doing
this being thrown upon me, I go into the
recess of the window next Mr.. Friths,
and likewise stare at Mont Blanc. The
Frenchman wishes us both good-even-
ing, and takes himself off.
The next minute 1 hear his voice
again. He and somebody else have
come into collision in the passage, where
upon follows mutual asking of pardons,
and he enters the room again. His COM
panion is hidden by the screen near the
door, but L hear the little fellow say,
still speaking in English,
"Ah, Monsieur! you are just too late.
AiS oiiiiSoChCC liOul ocuGNo WIS
time, [ suppose? You have ordered din
ner, of course? Yes. Come and look at
Mont Blanc. The moonlight is on it,"
From my window 1 hear their foot
steps approaching me, the tripping,
light step of the one, and the heavy,
sloughiDg tread of the other. AS listen
to the latter, cold chill comes over me.
We distinguish footsteps after time as
we learn to know voices. have strong
misgiving that 1 know that tread, but
I listen in suspense without looking
round.
eyes. it is very grand, says voice at
my elbow, referring to Mont Blanc, which
towers before us clear and distinct in the
bright moonlight.
o, that voice! 1t realizes my worst
fears. How often have I heard it call
ing from the second floor at No. 8 Old
Inn. feel disposed to rush out of the
rnOm hnt oharipo Np Er;tb tI,o