Jenkins evidently did! His eyes expressed both pity and embarrassment. "What he did to you,"--he rolled his glance upward, trying to shape the idea--"I believe, sir, it's what you might call"--his voice dropped--"I believe it's what they _do_ call wiping up the floor with." I closed my eyes an instant. "Finish!" I whispered, feebly flipping my hand at him. "He left then, sir, but the noise brought Wilkes and we helped you up-stairs. You wouldn't go any farther than the door of the judge's bedroom--wanted to tell him, we supposed. When we got that far, I noticed Mr. Jack Billings' door--it's right opposite, you remember, sir--was standing just a little open. He called out very anxious and shrill: 'Oh, _do_ be very careful of the pajamas! My! my! I hope the pajamas are not hurt!' "And at that, you just bangs inside the judge's room and in about two minutes, _he_ stuck his head out, looking kinder towsled and mad like he'd been waked from a sound sleep, and he fires a wrapped-up parcel at the door opposite and yells: "'There are your pajamas, you unnatural, heartless prodigal! Pajamas, indeed, at such a time!' And then I see Mr. Jack's arm come out and fish the package inside. "Then the judge turns on me and Wilkes and ordered us to clear out and to go to bed. And Wilkes said we'd best do it because the judge would take care of you and get you to your room quietly. And the last thing I heard before he slammed inside his room was: "'There's one thing; I've got a daughter!'" I looked at Jenkins miserably. He was _right_; he did have a daughter, and I wanted her. But just now, I wished with all heart that she was somebody's--anybody else's daughter--than that of the man who had witnessed my humiliation. And afterwards-- _How_ had he managed to get me to my room? And had she seen or heard me? Oh, she must have! Well, nothing mattered now--nothing could ever matter any more. It was some miserable comfort to feel, and _know_, that nothing worse could ever happen! Why, there was nothing _worse_ left in all the world. By Jove, I was sure of _that_ much! And just then a knock sounded. CHAPTER XXXII I TOUCH BOTTOM "Pardon, sir, for not waiting till you came down," the butler was saying, "but Mr. Billings was just so set on me bringing this to you, I _had_ to." He had entered, responding to Jenkins' invitation, bearing in his hand a gray paper parcel. "For me?" I questioned, as he laid it on the table, and I eyed it ominously. Yet it could not be the same I had sent Billings myself--I could see that--for it was smaller, more compact, and in a different wrapper. But I was _afraid_ to examine it. "Yes, sir--he's very bad this morning, sir; the--er--that is, something last night seems to have excited him." His eye roved eloquently between Jenkins and myself. He continued soberly: