She little knew
how much the old man prided in his value,--how much he esteemed the
amount of good work he could do for master. He shakes his head,
looks doubtingly at her, as if questioning the sincerity of her
remark.
"Just get Daddy Bob-he mutters-a badge, den 'e show missus how much
work in 'um."
Franconia promises to comply with his request, and, with the aid of
a friend, will intercede for him, and procure for him a badge, that
he may display his energies for the benefit of old mas'r. This done,
she orders the servant to show him his bed in one of the "yard
houses;" bids the old man an affectionate good night, retires to her
room, and watches the return of her truant swain.
There, seated in an arm-chair, she waits, and waits, and waits, hope
and anxiety recording time as it passes. The servant has seen Daddy
safe in his room, and joins her missus, where, by the force of
habit, she coils herself at her feet, and sleeps. She has not long
remained in this position when loud singing breaks upon her ear;
louder and louder it vibrates through the music of the storm, and
approaches. Now she distinctly recognises the sharp voice of
M'Carstrow, which is followed by loud rappings at the door of the
basement hall. M'Carstrow, impatiently, demands entrance. The
half-sleeping servant, startled at the noise, springs to her feet,
rubs her eyes, bounds down the stairs, seizes the globular lamp, and
proceeds to open the door. Franconia, a candle in her hand, waits at
the top of the stairs.
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