Free electronic library

"
I thanked him, went home, and summoned my excellent man Rogers.
"Rogers," said I, "I am going to the seaside. I heard that Murglebed
is a nice quiet little spot. You will go down and inspect it for me and
bring back a report."
He went blithe and light-hearted, though he thought me insane; he
returned with the air of a serving-man who, expecting to find a
well-equipped pantry, had wandered into a charnel house.
"It's an awful place, sir. It's sixteen miles from a railway station.
The shore is a mud flat. There's no hotel, and the inhabitants are like
cannibals."
"I start for Murglebed-on-Sea to-morrow," said I.
Rogers started at me. His loose mouth quivered like that of a child
preparing to cry.
"We can't possibly stay there, sir," he remonstrated.
"_We_ are not going to try," I retorted. "I'm going by myself."
His face brightened. Almost cheerfully he assured me that I should find
nothing to eat in Murglebed.
"You can amuse yourself," said I, "by sending me down a daily hamper of
provisions.


Pages:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25