"Oh!--it's you, is it," cried he. "Where's my rascal?"

"He's not come yet, sir," I replied.

"That fellow's never at hand when I want him--I'll cashier him by ___."
He slammed to his own door, and--opened it again immediately.

"Timmis come?" demanded he.

"No, sir; I don't think he'll be here for an hour."

"True--I'm early in the field; but what brings you here so soon?--some
mischief, I suppose."

"I'm always early, sir, for I live hard by."

"Ha!--well--I wish--."

"Can I do anything for you, sir?" I enquired.

"Why, that's a good thought," said he, and his countenance assumed its
usually bland expression. "Let me see--I want to send my carpet-bag, and
a message, to my housekeeper."

"I can do it, sir, and be back again in no time," cried I, elated at
having an opportunity of obliging the man whom I had really some cause to
fear, in the critical situation in which his nephew's thoughtlessness had
placed me.