Chapter V.
Midnight by the Slopperton Clocks.
The clouds and the sky kept their promise, and as the clocks chimed the quarter before twelve the storm broke over the steeples at Slopperton.
Blue lightning-flashes lit up Blind Peter, and attendant thunder-claps shook him to his very foundation; while a violent shower of rain gave him such a washing-down of every flagstone, chimney-pot, and door-step, as he did not often get. Slopperton in bed was almost afraid to go to sleep; and Slopperton not in bed did not seem to care about going to bed. Slopperton at supper was nervous as to handling of glittering knives and steel forks; and Slopperton going to windows to look out at the lightning was apt to withdraw hurriedly at the sight thereof. Slopperton in general was depressed by the storm; thought there would be mischief somewhere; and had a vague idea that something dreadful would happen before the night was out.
In Dr. Tappenden's quiet household there was consternation and alarm. Mr. Jabez North, the principal assistant, had gone out early in the evening, and had not returned at the appointed hour for shutting up the house. This was such an unprecedented occurrence, that it had occasioned considerable uneasiness—especially as Dr. Tappenden was away from home, and Jabez was, in a manner, deputy-master of the house. The young woman who looked after the gentlemen's wardrobes had taken compassion upon the housemaid, who sat up awaiting Mr. North's return, and had brought her workbox, and a lapful of young gentlemen's dilapidated socks, to the modest chamber in which the girl waited.
"I hope," said the housemaid, "nothing ain't happened to him through the storm. I hope he hasn't been getting under no trees."
The housemaid had a fixed idea that to go under a tree in a thunderstorm was to encounter immediate death.
"Poor dear young gentleman," said the lady of the wardrobes; "I tremble to think what can keep him out so. Such a steady young man; never known to be a minute after time either. I'm sure every sound I hear makes me expect to see him brought in on a shutter."
"Don't now, Miss Smithers!" cried the housemaid, looking behind her as if she expected to see the ghost of Jabez North pointing to a red spot on his left breast at the back of her chair. "I wish you wouldn't now! Oh, I hope he ain't been murdered. There's been such a many murders in Slopperton since I can remember. It's only three years and a half ago
