"Of you, Tom, I entertain a very different opinion; for I well know that if you once settled yourself in a public-house, you would never leave it, as long as there was anything to drink within its walls." '"I am very much obliged to you for your good opinion, Sir," said Tom Smart.
'"Therefore," resumed the old gentleman, in a dictatorial tone, "you shall have her, and he shall not." '"What is to prevent it ?" said Tom Smart eagerly.
'"This disclosure," replied the old gentleman; "he is already married." '"How can I prove it ?" said Tom, starting half out of bed.
'The old gentleman untucked his arm from his side, and having pointed to one of the oaken presses, immediately replaced it, in its old position.
'"He little thinks," said the old gentleman, "that in the right-hand pocket of a pair of trousers in that press, he has left a letter, entreating him to return to his disconsolate wife, with six--mark me, Tom--six babes, and all of them small ones." 'As the old gentleman solemnly uttered these words, his features grew less and less distinct, and his figure more shadowy.

A film came over Tom Smart's eyes.

The old man seemed gradually blending into the chair, the damask waistcoat to resolve into a cushion, the red slippers to shrink into little red cloth bags.

The light faded gently away, and Tom Smart fell back on his pillow, and dropped asleep.
'Morning aroused Tom from the lethargic slumber, into which he had fallen on the disappearance of the old man.

He sat up in bed, and for some minutes vainly endeavoured to recall the events of the preceding night.