Only an Irish Boy Andy Burke's Fortunes

CHAPTER XXVI SPINNING THE WEB

There was a short in­ter­val be­fore the play com­menced. This Andy im­proved by ex­am­in­ing the large stock of cu­riosi­ties which have been gath­ered from all parts of the world for the grat­ifi­ca­tion of vis­itors. Fair­fax kept at his side, and spoke freely of all they saw. There was some­thing about him which seemed to Andy strange­ly fa­mil­iar. Was it in his fea­tures, or in his voice? He could not tell. The red whig and whiskers mis­led him. Andy fi­nal­ly set it down as a mere chance re­sem­blance to some­one whom he had met for­mer­ly, and dis­missed it from his mind.

At length the in­creas­ing crowds pour­ing in­to the lec­ture-​room re­mind­ed them that the play was about to be­gin.

“Shall we go in and take our seats?” said Fair­fax.

Andy as­sent­ed, and they were speed­ily in their seats.

I do not pro­pose to speak of the play. It was a nov­el­ty to Andy to see a dra­mat­ic rep­re­sen­ta­tion, and he thor­ough­ly en­joyed it. Fair­fax was more ac­cus­tomed to such things, but pre­tend­ed to be equal­ly in­ter­est­ed, feel­ing that in this way he could in­gra­ti­ate him­self bet­ter in­to Andy's con­fi­dence.

At last it was over, and they went out of the build­ing.

“How did you like it?” asked Fair­fax.

“Tip­top,” said Andy, prompt­ly. “Don't you think so?”

“Cap­ital,” an­swered Fair­fax, with sim­ulat­ed de­light. “I am glad I had com­pa­ny. I don't en­joy any­thing half as well alone. By the way, where do you pass the night?”

“At some ho­tel--I don't know which.”

“Sup­pose you go to the Adams House. I've got to stop overnight some­where, and it might be pleas­an­ter go­ing in com­pa­ny.”

“Where is the Adams House?”

“On Wash­ing­ton Street, not very far off--ten or fif­teen min­utes' walk.”

“If it's a good place, I'm will­ing.”

“It is an ex­cel­lent ho­tel, and mod­er­ate in price. We might go up there now, and en­gage a room, and then spend the evening where we like.”

“Very well,” said Andy.

They soon reached the Adams House--a neat, un­pre­tend­ing ho­tel--and en­tered. They walked up to the desk, and Fair­fax spoke to the clerk.

“Can you give us a room?”

“Cer­tain­ly. En­ter your names.”

“Shall we room to­geth­er?” asked Fair­fax, calm­ly.

Now Andy, though he had had no ob­jec­tion to go­ing to the the­ater with his present com­pan­ion, did not care to take a room with a stranger, of whom he knew noth­ing. He might be a very re­spectable man, but some­how, Andy did not know why, there was some­thing in his man­ner which in­spired a lit­tle re­pul­sion. Be­sides, he re­mem­bered that he had con­sid­er­able mon­ey with him, and that con­sid­er­ation alone ren­dered it im­pru­dent for him to put him­self in the pow­er of a com­pan­ion. So he said, a lit­tle awk­ward­ly:

“I think we'd bet­ter take sep­arate rooms.”

“Very well,” said Fair­fax, in a tone of in­dif­fer­ence, though he re­al­ly felt very much dis­ap­point­ed. “I thought it might have been a lit­tle more so­cia­ble to be to­geth­er.”

Andy did not take the hint, ex­cept so far as to say:

“We can take rooms along­side of each oth­er.”

“I can give you ad­join­ing rooms, if you de­sire,” said the clerk.

Fair­fax here en­tered his name in the ho­tel reg­is­ter as “Nathaniel Mar­vin, Port­land, Maine,” while Andy put down his re­al ad­dress. His com­pan­ion's was, of course, fic­ti­tious. He did not ven­ture to give the name of Fair­fax, as that might be rec­og­nized by Andy as that of the high­way­man, with whose lit­tle plans he had in­ter­fered.

A ser­vant was called, and they went up to their rooms, which, as the clerk had promised, were found to be ad­join­ing. They were pre­cise­ly alike.

“Very com­fort­able, Mr. Burke,” said Fair­fax, in a tone of ap­par­ent sat­is­fac­tion. “I think we shall have a com­fort­able night.”

“I guess so,” said Andy.

“Are you go­ing to stay here now?”

“No; I'm go­ing to wash my face, and then take a walk around. I want to see some­thing of the city.”

“I think I'll lie down awhile; I feel tired. Per­haps we shall meet lat­er. If not, I shall see you in the morn­ing.”

“All right,” said Andy.

In a few min­utes he went out.