There was no perceptible change in his appearance, and he manifestly took as warm an interest in frightful accidents as ever.

"What is it--what is it ?" he asked eagerly, as Lizzie's pale face became visible in the bright light that shone from the inner office.

"Do you want a stretcher ?" The rapidity with which he asked these questions, and his eager manner, quite startled her, and she was for a moment unable to tell her errand.
"Speak up, girl--speak up! Do you want a stretcher--is it burnt or run over.

Can't you speak, eh ?" It now flashed upon Lizzie that the venerable janitor was labouring under the impression that she had come to make application for the admission of a patient, and she quickly answered-- "Oh, no; it is nothing of the kind, I am glad to say." "Glad to say," muttered the old man, the eager, expectant look disappearing from his face, giving place to one of disappointment--"glad to say; why there hasn't been an accident to-day, and here you've gone and rung the bell, and brought me here to the door for nothing.

What do you want then ?" "I wish to inquire after a person who is here." "What's his number ?" gruffly inquired he.
"That I cannot tell," answered she; "his name is McCloskey." "I don't know anything about him.