"Now," said Maxwell, as he placed a steaming tumbler of brandy and water before each of the women, "put that away, and then tell us all about it."
"I thank you very much," said the elder woman. "We—"
"I'll not hear a word while there's a drop of brandy left in that tumbler. Drink it off directly."
But that was clearly impossible, for he had mixed it on the Jack-tar principle of "half-and-half." So on my representing this to him, he was pleased to pass a more lenient sentence, and to reduce the punishment, in each case, by one half.
"I am very grateful to you for your kindness," said the elder woman. "My daughter and I have fled from the violence of my infuriated husband, who, but for your kindness would certainly have killed us."
"May I inquire the particulars?" said he.
"My husband is a master mariner, and we occupy a house in Essex Street, Strand, where I let apartments. He is a dreadfully violent man, and this evening he was brought home, after an absence of three days, by two policemen, quite drunk. He insisted upon having more drink as soon as they had left, and he gradually worked himself into a frenzy of excitement. It unfortunately happened that one of our lodgers left yesterday without paying his rent, and as soon as this fact came to his knowledge he flew into a violent rage, and struck me here," laying her hand upon her side. "He then seized a life-preserver, and, in an agony of terror, Emmie and I rushed into the street, with the intention of seeking shelter from his violence in my nephew's
