Mr. Grahame perceiving that Helen had absorbed the attention of the Duke and Lester Vane, glided out of the room into the library. As he entered it he became conscious of a strong smell of the “fragrant weed,” which, however, to his olfactory nerves had not “the scent of the rose,” and he saw Mr. Chewkle, with part of a truly British cheroot in his hand, standing near to the lamp upon the table, harassed by doubts as to the propriety of relighting it or the propriety of doing nothing of the sort.
Mr. Grahame bowed patronisingly, but said hastily--
“No,” returned Chewkle; “it was out afore I came in, but I thought if you didn’t mind, you know----”
“But, indeed, I do mind!” responded Mr. Grahame, quickly, and then added most fiercely, as he perceived the red and begrimed face of his visitor, his dirty collar, his necktie and his hair disordered, all indicating the frequent quaffing and replenishment of “the glass which cheers” and _does_ inebriate--“Pray tell me, Mr. Chewkle, to what circumstance I am to attribute your visit at, to me, a most inconvenient time?”
“Well, sir, things happens without particularly caring for our convenience,” answered Chewkle, with a hiccup, which left a strong odour of some beverage--not green tea--behind it. “We would all like things to fall out jest as we would wish ‘em, but they don’t, an’ it seems as if the more you wish ’em the more they won’t.”
“Well,” said Mr. Grahame, not liking this preface.
“Well,” continued Chewkle, “an’ when things run cross, we must, if we wants to right ’em, go to work at once, without caring about convenience. At least, them’s my sentiments, an’ that’s my way o’ doing business.”
“A very proper way, no doubt, my good friend,” exclaimed Mr. Grahame, growing yet more anxious, “but pray tell me what _has_ happened.”
“Well, a very orkurd matter, as things stand,” replied Mr. Chewkle.
“What is it?--what is it?” cried Mr. Grahame, feverishly.
“Out--out--out of prison?” gasped Mr. Grahame, clutching at a chair for support.
“Nothing else,” replied Chewkle, placing his hands behind him, and rocking himself backwards and forwards on his toes and heels, in a very dangerous fashion for one in his state.
“Escaped--escaped?” inquired Mr. Grahame, his eyes almost starting out of their sockets.