Too much overwhelmed by the strange things that I had heard to keep up the conversation, I sank into a seemingly hopeless labyrinth of confusing thoughts. This lasted till Mr. Lister, who observed that I was very tired, showed me to my room, having first accomplished the somewhat difficult and precarious task of filling a lamp with coal oil. The room to which he conducted me was evidently the choicest guest-chamber in the house, and it was equally evident that it had not been occupied since the flight of the women. It was in the most exquisite order. No man’s hand could have equalled the artistic precision with which the snowy coverings were laid upon the spotless bed. Weary as I was I gazed upon it with a feeling of profound awe. To lie upon that couch which showed the last skilful touch of a vanished woman’s hand was a profanation of which, thank Heaven, I was not capable. A luxurious rug which lay on the floor beside the bed better accorded with my feeling of deep humility. I stretched myself upon it, and, completely worn out by the fatigues and mental shocks of the day, swiftly sank into a deep and dreamless sleep. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER V. When I awoke the next morning my mind was clear, and though the recollection of the fact that woman had forsaken man came back to me like the memory of a deeply painful blow, I was still enough like myself to assist Mr. Lister in the task of breakfast-getting with some show of cheerfulness. Breakfast was, however, with the exception of coffee, in the making of which Mr. Lister showed some skill, a repetition of the supper of the previous evening. That it was not again eaten from the original tin cans was, I remember, due to my calling Mr. Lister’s attention to the fact that it was said to be dangerous to eat food which had stood for even a brief period of time in open tin cans. This suggestion threw him back unwillingly upon the necessity of dish-washing, for he had to open fresh cans and empty the contents into dishes, which he procured from the pantry. I had observed before during my life that where men, under the stress of circumstances, had assumed the function of dish-washing their dish-cloths speedily took on a grotesque blackness that made them a positively fascinating study. Two or three times after this, in spite of the strange facts which were pressing upon my attention, I found myself absorbed in a kind of rapt contemplation of Mr. Lister’s dish-cloths. While the meal was in progress I remember that I inquired of Mr. Lister how I could possibly pass the time till the ballots should be cast, for I was conscious of such a horror of home-sickness that I felt I must do something to divert my mind till the terrible suspense should be over. Among other things which I suggested at random, I spoke of visiting some club, as I presumed, without doubt, that there must be several in the town.