Captain Nibletts repeated it, and Captain Barber, after clearing his brain with a glass of spirits, bade him a solemn good-night, and proceeded slowly to his home. The door was opened by Mrs. Church, and a hum of voices from the front room indicated company. Captain Barber, hanging his hat on a peg, entered the room to discover Mrs. Banks and daughter, attended by Mr. Gibson. “Where’s Fred?” he asked, slowly, as he took a seat. “_Who?_” said Miss Banks, with a little scream. “Lawk-a-mussy, bless the man,” said her mother. “I never did.” “Not come in yet?” asked Barber, looking round with a frightful stare. “The _Foam_’s up!” The company exchanged glances of consternation. “Why, is he alive?” enquired Mrs. Church, sharply. “Alive!” repeated Captain Barber. “Why shouldn’t he be? He was alive yesterday, wasn’t he?” There was a dead silence, and then Captain Barber from beneath his shaggy eyebrows observed with delight that Gibson, tapping his forehead significantly, gave a warning glance at the others, while all four sitting in a row watched anxiously for the first signs of acute mania. “I expect he’s gone round after you, my dear,” said the wily Barber to Miss Banks. In the circumstances this was certainly cruel, and Gibson coughed confusedly. “I’ll go and see,” said Miss Banks, hurriedly; “come along, mother.” The two ladies, followed by Mr. Gibson, shook hands and withdrew hurriedly. Captain Barber, wondering how to greet Mrs. Church after he had let them out, fixed his eyes on the carpet and remained silent. “Aren’t you well?” enquired the lady, tenderly. “Well, ma’am?” repeated Uncle Barber, with severity. “Ma’am?” said Mrs. Church, in tones of tender reproach; “two hours ago I was Laura. Have you been to the ‘Thorn’?” “What ‘Thorn’?” demanded Captain Barber, who had decided to forget as much as possible, as the only safe way. “The Thorn Inn,” said Mrs. Church, impatiently. “Where is it?” enquired Captain Barber, ingenuously. Mrs. Church looked at him with deep consideration. “Why, at the end of the cottages, opposite the ‘Swan’.” “What ‘Swan’?” enquired Captain Barber. “The Swan Inn,” said Mrs. Church, restraining her temper, but with difficulty. “Where is it?” said Uncle Barber, with breezy freshness. “Opposite the ‘Thorn,’ at the end of the row,” said Mrs. Church, slowly. “Well, what about it?” enquired Captain Barber. “Nothing,” said Mrs. Church, sharply, and proceeded to set supper. Captain Barber, hugging himself over his scheme, watched her eagerly, evincing a little bewilderment as she brought on a small, unappetizing rind of cheese, bread, two glasses, and a jug of water. He checked himself just in time from asking for the cold fowl and bacon left from dinner, and, drawing his chair to the table, eyed the contents closely. “Only bread and cheese?” he said, somewhat peevishly. “That’s all,” said Mrs. Church, smiling; “bread and cheese and kisses.”