'Sir,' said Mr Tappertit with a low bow, 'I thank you for this
condescension, and am glad to see you. Pardon the menial office in which
I am engaged, sir, and extend your sympathies to one, who, humble as his
appearance is, has inn'ard workings far above his station.'
Mr Chester held the bed-curtain farther back, and looked at him with a
vague impression that he was some maniac, who had not only broken open
the door of his place of confinement, but had brought away the lock. Mr
Tappertit bowed again, and displayed his legs to the best advantage.
'You have heard, sir,' said Mr Tappertit, laying his hand upon his
breast, 'of G. Varden Locksmith and bell-hanger and repairs neatly
executed in town and country, Clerkenwell, London?'
'What then?' asked Mr Chester.
'I'm his 'prentice, sir.'
'What THEN?'
'Ahem!' said Mr Tappertit. 'Would you permit me to shut the door, sir,
and will you further, sir, give me your honour bright, that what passes
between us is in the strictest confidence?'
Mr Chester laid himself calmly down in bed again, and turning a
perfectly undisturbed face towards the strange apparition, which had
by this time closed the door, begged him to speak out, and to be as
rational as he could, without putting himself to any very great personal
inconvenience.
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