This Rachel steadily refused, and after a few more postures, (sic) indicatiing a great amount of anguish, limped out of the room, and ascended the stairs to her own apartment.

CHAPTER III.

The landlord’s visit.

Soon after Rachel’s departure Jack, also, was seized with a sleepy fit, and postponing the construction of his boat to a more favorable opportunity, took a candle and followed his aunt’s example.

The cooper and his wife were now left alone.

“Now that Rachel and Jack have gone to bed, Mary,” he commenced, hesitatingly, “I don’t mind saying that I am a little troubled in mind about one thing.”

“What’s that?” asked Mrs. Crump, anxiously.

“It’s just this, I don’t anticipate being stinted for food.  I know we shall get along some way; but there’s another expense which I am afraid of.”

“Is it the rent?” inquired his wife, apprehensively.

“That’s it.  The quarter’s rent, twenty dollars, comes due to-morrow, and I’ve got less than a dollar to meet it.”

“Won’t Mr. Colman wait?”

“I’m afraid not.  You know what sort of a man he is, Mary.  There ain’t much feeling about him.  He cares more for money than anything else.”

“Perhaps you are doing him injustice.”

“I am afraid not.  Did you never hear how he treated the Underhills?”

“How was it?”

“Underhill was laid up with a rheumatic fever for three months.  The consequence was, that, when quarter-day came round, he was in about the same situation with ourselves,—­a little worse even, for his wife was sick, also.  But though Colman was aware of the circumstances, he had no pity; but turned them out without ceremony.”

“Is it possible?” asked Mrs. Crump, uneasily.

“And there’s no reason for his being more lenient with us.  I can’t but feel anxious about to-morrow, Mary.”

At this moment, verifying an old adage which will perhaps occur to the reader, who should knock but Mr. Colman himself?

Both the cooper and his wife had an instinctive foreboding as to the meaning of his visit.

He came in, rubbing his hands in a social way, as was his custom.  No one, to look at him, would have suspected the hardness of heart that lay veiled under his velvety softness of manner.

“Good evening, Mr. Crump,” said he, affably, “I trust you and your worthy wife are in good health.”

“That blessing, at least, is continued to us,” said the cooper, gravely.

“And how comfortable you’re looking too, eh!  It makes an old bachelor, like me, feel lonesome when he contrasts his own solitary room with such a scene of comfort as this.  You’ve got a comfortable home, and dog-cheap, too.  All my other tenants are grumbling to think you don’t have to pay any more for such superior accommodations.  I’ve about made up my mind that I must ask you twenty-five dollars a quarter, hereafter.”