Cruel as the graveSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
Cruel as the grave
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
American fiction -- 19th century
Recovering from his little shock, he advanced to the gentleman, bowed,
and said:
"Well, sir, I am the landlord, and I understand you wish to see me."
"Yes; I wish to engage a room here to-night."
"Very sorry, sir; but it is out of the question. Every room in the house
is engaged; even my room and my daughter's room, and the servants'
rooms. And not only that, sir, but every sofa is engaged, and every rug;
so you see it is clean impossible."
"Impossible is it?" inquired the stranger.
"Clean impossible, sir! utterly impossible!" returned the host.
"All right; then it shall be done."
"Sir!"
"I say, because it is impossible, it shall be done."
"Eh!"
"Here is a hundred dollars," said the stranger, laying down two
bank-notes of fifty dollars each. "I will give you this money if you can
induce any of your guests to give up a room for me to-night."
"Why, really, sir, I should be delighted to accommodate such a very
liberal gentleman, but--"
"You must decide at once. Now, or never," said the stranger, firmly, for
he saw the game was now in his own hands.
"Well, yes, sir; I will find you a room. The two young college gents
who took a room between them may be induced to give it up."
"_Must_ give it up, you mean," amended the stranger.
"Well, yes, sir; just as you say, sir."
"And I must have it in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, sir."
"And supper served there in half an hour."
"Yes, sir."
"And your company at supper, as I want to have a little talk with you."
"All right, sir."
"And now, you can go and see about the room."
"Just so, sir," said the landlord, gathering up the two fifty-dollar
bills that had bought him, body and soul, and then bowing himself out of
the room.
"'Money makes the mare go,' and the horse too. I wonder what he'll think
when he finds out his bank bills are not worth the paper they are
printed on," mused the stranger, as he paced thoughtfully up and down
the room.
Fortunately for the landlord's speculation, bad as it ultimately proved,
the two collegians who had engaged his best front bedroom had not yet
arrived to take possession of it. Therefore the business of turning it
over to a more profitable party was the more immediately practicable.
All the landlord had to do was to see that a fire was kindled in the
fireplace, and the table was set for supper.
Then he returned to the parlor, to conduct, in person, such a wealthy
and munificent patron to his apartment.
"Ah! this is cosy!" said the stranger, sinking into an arm-chair, and
spreading his hands over the blazing fire, whose beams were caught and
reflected by his red hair, until it shone like a rival conflagration.
"Glad you like your quarters, sir," said the landlord, putting his hand
upon the pocket that contained the purse with the two fifty-dollar bills
to see that they were safe.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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