At that moment a somewhat startling incident occurred. The keys were
whisked out of Mr. Ketch's hand, and fell, or appeared to fall, with a
clatter on the flags at his feet. He turned his anger upon Jenkins.
"Now then, you senseless calf! What did you do that for?"
"Did you speak?" asked Jenkins, taking his elbows from the distant
window-frame, and approaching.
Mr. Ketch felt a little staggered. His belief had been that Jenkins had
come up silently, and dashed the keys from his hand; but Jenkins, it
appeared, had not left the window. However, like too many other
cross-grained spirits, he persisted in venting blame upon him.
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, to play an old man such a trick?"
"I have played no trick," said Jenkins. "I thought I saw a glowworm,
and I stopped to look; but I couldn't see it again. There's no trick in
that."
"Ugh!" cried the porter in his wrath. "You took and clutched the keys
from me, and throwed 'em on the ground! Pick 'em up."
"Well, I never heard the like!" said Jenkins. "I was not within yards
and yards of you. If you dropped the keys it was no fault of mine."
But, being a peaceably-inclined man, he stooped and found the keys.
The porter grunted. An inner current of conviction rose in his heart
that he must undoubtedly have dropped them, though he could have
declared at the time that they were mysteriously snatched from him. He
seized the string firmly now, and hobbled on to the west door, abusing
Jenkins all the way.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145