oms enough and to spare, should he occupy that cold and
comfortless situation at night? Why should he sleep on guard outside his
master's door? Was there some nocturnal danger in the house of which the
admiral was afraid? The question seemed absurd, and yet the position of
the bed forced it irresistibly on her mind.
Stimulated by her own ungovernable curiosity on this subject, Magdalen
ventured to question the housekeeper. She acknowledged having walked
from end to end of the passage on the second floor, to see if it was as
long as the passage on the first; and she mentioned having noticed with
astonishment the position of the truckle-bed. Mrs. Drake answered her
implied inquiry shortly and sharply. "I don't blame a young girl like
you," said the old lady, "for being a little curious when she first
comes into such a strange house as this. But remember, for the future,
that yo ur business does not lie on the bedroom story. Mr. Mazey sleeps
on that bed you noticed. It is his habit at night to sleep outside his
master's door." With that meager explanation Mrs. Drake's lips closed,
and opened no more.
Later in the day Magdalen found an opportunity of applying to old Mazey
himself. She discovered the veteran in high good humor, smoking his
pipe, and warming a tin mug of ale at his own snug fire.
"Mr. Mazey," she asked, boldly, "why do you put your bed in that cold
passage?"
"What! you have been upstairs, you young jade, have you?" said old
Mazey, looking up from his mug with a leer.
Magdalen smiled and nodded. "Come! come! tell me," she said, coaxingly.
"Why do you sleep outside the admiral's door?"
"Why do you part your hair in the middle, my dear?" asked old Mazey,
with another leer.
"I suppose, because I am accustomed to do it," answered Magdalen.
"Ay! ay!" said the veteran. "That's why, is it? Well, my dear, the
reason why you part your hair in the middle is the reason why I sleep
outside the admiral's door. I know how to deal with 'em!" chuckled old
Mazey, lapsing into soliloquy, and stirring up his ale in high triumph.
"Tall and short, native and foreign, sweethearts and wives--_I_ know how
to deal with 'em!"
Magdalen's third and last attempt at solving the mystery of the
truckle-bed was made while she was waiting on the admiral at dinner. The
old gentleman's questions gave her an opportunity of referring to the
subject, without any appearance of presumption or disrespect; but he
proved to be quite
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