"You want to know about that alarming conversation? Well,"--(here Mr.
Glover was so overcome with merriment, that, after a proper time, the
interposition of official authority became necessary,)--"well, I am an
engraver. My business is mainly to cut heads. Sometimes I use steel,
sometimes copper. My brother, who is also an engraver, and I were
discussing a new commission. I told him I should make use of a good bit of
steel, which had already been engraved upon, but not so deeply but that the
lines could be easily removed, excepting the eyes, which would have to be
scraped away. My allusion to proof is easily explained: it is common for
engravers to have a proof-impression taken of their work after it is
finished, by which they are enabled to detect any imperfections, and remedy
them.

"I am very sorry that my young friend should have considered me so much of
a blood-thirsty ruffian. But the ale of Boston is no doubt strange to him,
and his confusion at finding himself in a large city quite
natural. Besides, his suspicions were in some degree reciprocated. When I
saw him flying out of the window, I was convinced that he must be an
ingenious burglar, and instantly ran back to examine my tools. I am glad to
find that I was wrong. If he will return now with me, he shall be welcome
to his share of the bed."

Mr. Lorrimer politely, but positively, declined.

Captain Morrill urbanely apologized to Mr. Glover, and engaged himself to
make it right in the morning; whereupon Mr. Glover withdrew in cachinnatory
convulsions. Mr. Lorrimer was instructed to resume his proper garments, and
was then conveyed safely to his hotel, where he remained in deep
abstraction until Monday, when, after transacting his business, he took the
afternoon return-train for New York.