The room directly under No. 237 was occupied by an old gentleman of a very nervous and irascible temper, Mr. Samuel Piper, a country merchant, who, having occasion to be in the city on business for a few days, had put up at Lovejoy's Hotel. He had fatigued himself by some business calls, and was now taking a little rest upon the bed, when he was aroused from half-sleep by the pounding overhead.
“I wish people would have the decency to keep quiet,” he said to himself, peevishly. “How can I rest with such a confounded racket going on above!”
He lay back, thinking the noise would cease, but Paul, finding the knocking on the door ineffectual, began to jump up and down, as I have already said. Of course this noise was heard distinctly in the room below.
“This is getting intolerable!” exclaimed Mr. Piper, becoming more and more excited. “The man ought to be indicted as a common nuisance. How they can allow such goings-on in a respectable hotel, I can't understand. I should think the fellow was splitting wood upstairs.”
He took his cane, and, standing on the bed, struck it furiously against the ceiling, intending it as signal to the man above to desist. But Paul, catching the response, began to jump more furiously than ever, finding that he had attracted attention.
“The man must be a lunatic or overcome by drink,” he exclaimed. “I can't and I won't stand it.”
Mr. Piper put on his shoes and his coat, and, seizing his cane, emerged upon the landing. He espied a female servant just coming upstairs.
“Here, you Bridget, or Nancy, or whatever your name is,” he roared, “there's a lunatic upstairs, making a tremendous row in the room over mine. If you don't stop him I'll leave the hotel. Hear him now!”
“Of course he must be. I want you to go up and stop him.”
“Is it me that would go near a crazy man?” exclaimed Bridget, horror-struck; “I wouldn't do it for a million dollars; no, I wouldn't.”
“I insist upon your going up,” said Mr. Piper, irritably. “He must be stopped. Do you think I am going to stand such an infernal thumping over my head?”
“I wouldn't do it if you'd go down on your knees to me,” said Bridget, fervently.
“Then you go down and tell your master there's a madman up here. If you don't, I will.”