The Lodger | Page 9

disk had been
fitted above the old keyhole.
He nodded his head, and then, after standing silent a little, as if
absorbed in thought, "Forty-two shillings a week? Yes, that will suit me
perfectly. And I'll begin now by paying my first month's rent in
advance. Now, four times forty-two shillings is"--he jerked his head
back and stared at his new landlady; for the first time he smiled, a queer,
wry smile--"why, just eight pounds eight shillings, Mrs. Bunting!"
He thrust his hand through into an inner pocket of his long cape-like
coat and took out a handful of sovereigns. Then he began putting these
down in a row on the bare wooden table which stood in the centre of
the room. "Here's five--six--seven--eight--nine --ten pounds. You'd
better keep the odd change, Mrs. Bunting, for I shall want you to do
some shopping for me to-morrow morning. I met with a misfortune
to-day." But the new lodger did not speak as if his misfortune, whatever
it was, weighed on his spirits.
"Indeed, sir. I'm sorry to hear that." Mrs. Bunting's heart was going

thump--thump--thump. She felt extraordinarily moved, dizzy with
relief and joy.
"Yes, a very great misfortune! I lost my luggage, the few things I
managed to bring away with me." His voice dropped suddenly. "I
shouldn't have said that," he muttered. "I was a fool to say that!" Then,
more loudly, "Someone said to me, 'You can't go into a lodging-house
without any luggage. They wouldn't take you in.' But you have taken
me in, Mrs. Bunting, and I'm grateful for--for the kind way you have
met me--" He looked at her feelingly, appealingly, and Mrs. Bunting
was touched. She was beginning to feel very kindly towards her new
lodger.
"I hope I know a gentleman when I see one," she said, with a break in
her staid voice.
"I shall have to see about getting some clothes to-morrow, Mrs.
Bunting." Again he looked at her appealingly.
"I expect you'd like to wash your hands now, sir. And would you tell
me what you'd like for supper? We haven't much in the house."
"Oh, anything'll do," he said hastily. "I don't want you to go out for me.
It's a cold, foggy, wet night, Mrs. Bunting. If you have a little
bread-and-butter and a cup of milk I shall be quite satisfied."
"I have a nice sausage," she said hesitatingly.
It was a very nice sausage, and she had bought it that same morning for
Bunting's supper; as to herself, she had been going to content herself
with a little bread and cheese. But now--wonderful, almost, intoxicating
thought--she could send Bunting out to get anything they both liked.
The ten sovereigns lay in her hand full of comfort and good cheer.
"A sausage? No, I fear that will hardly do. I never touch flesh meat," he
said; "it is a long, long time since I tasted a sausage, Mrs. Bunting."
"Is it indeed, sir?" She hesitated a moment, then asked stiffly, "And

will you be requiring any beer, or wine, sir?"
A strange, wild look of lowering wrath suddenly filled Mr. Sleuth's
pale face.
"Certainly not. I thought I had made that quite clear, Mrs. Bunting. I
had hoped to hear that you were an abstainer--"
"So I am, sir, lifelong. And so's Bunting been since we married." She
might have said, had she been a woman given to make such
confidences, that she had made Bunting abstain very early in their
acquaintance. That he had given in about that had been the thing that
first made her believe, that he was sincere in all the nonsense that he
talked to her, in those far-away days of his courting. Glad she was now
that he had taken the pledge as a younger man; but for that nothing
would have kept him from the drink during the bad times they had gone
through.
And then, going downstairs, she showed Mr. Sleuth the nice bedroom
which opened out of the drawing-room. It was a replica of Mrs.
Bunting's own room just underneath, excepting that everything up here
had cost just a little more, and was therefore rather better in quality.
The new lodger looked round him with such a strange expression of
content and peace stealing over his worn face. "A haven of rest," he
muttered; and then, "'He bringeth them to their desired haven.'
Beautiful words, Mrs. Bunting."
"Yes, sir."
Mrs. Bunting felt a little startled. It was the first time anyone had
quoted the Bible to her for many a long day. But it seemed to set the
seal, as it were, on Mr. Sleuth's respectability.
What a comfort it was, too, that she had to deal with only one lodger,
and that a gentleman, instead of with a married