Hans Brinker, or The Silver Skates/Mysterious Disappearance of Thomas Higgs
XLVI.
MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF THOMAS HIGGS.
Higgs' factory was a mine of delight for the gossips of Birmingham. It was a small building, but quite large enough to hold a mystery. Who the proprietor was, or where he came from, none could tell. He looked like a gentleman—that was certain—though everybody knew he had risen from an apprenticeship; and he could handle his pen like a writing-master.
Years ago he had suddenly appeared in the place a lad of eighteen—learned his trade faithfully, and risen in the confidence of his employer—been taken in as a partner soon after his time was up—and, finally, when old Willett died, had assumed the business on his own hands. This was all that was known of his affairs.
It was a common remark among some of the good people that he never had a word to say to a christian soul; while others declared that though he spoke beautiful, when he chose to, there was something wrong in his accent. A tidy man, too, they called him, all but for having that scandalous green pond alongside of his factory, which wasn't deep enough for an eel, and was "just a fever-nest, as sure as you live."
His nationality was a great puzzle. The English name spoke plain enough for one side of his house, but of what manner of nation was his mother? If she'd been an American, he'd certain have had high cheek bones and reddish skin; if a German, he would have known the language, and Squire Smith declared he didn't; if French (and his having that frog-pond made it seem likely) it would come out in his speech. No— there was nothing he could be but Dutch. And strangest of all, though the man always pricked up his ears when you talked of Holland, he didn't seem to know the first thing about the country when you put him to the point.
Anyhow, as no letters ever came to him from his mother's family in Holland, and as nobody living had ever seen old Higgs, the family couldn't be anything much. Probably Thomas Higgs himself was no better than he should be, for all he pretended to carry himself so strait; and for their parts, the gossips declared, they were not going to trouble their heads about him. Consequently Thomas Higgs and his affairs were never-failing subjects of discussion.
Picture, then, the consternation, among all the good people when it was announced by 'somebody who was there and ought to know,' that the post-boy had that very morning handed Higgs a foreign-looking letter, and the man had "turned as white as the wall; rushed to his factory, talked a bit with one of the head workmen, and without bidding a creature good-bye, was off bag and baggage before you could wink, ma'am."
Mistress Scrubbs, his landlady, was in deep affliction. The dear soul became quite out of breath while speaking of him—'to leave lodgin's in that suddent way 
The Investigating Committee. p. 337.
without never so much as a day's warnin' which was what every woman who didn't wish to be trodden under foot, which thank Hevving wasn't her way, had a perfect right to expect; yes, and a week's warnin' now you mention it, and without even so much as sayin' many thanks to you, Mistress Scrubbs, for all past kindnesses which was most namerous though she said it who shouldn't say it leastwise she wasn't never no kind of a person to be lookin' for thanks every minnit —it was really scanderlous, though to be sure Mister 'iggspaid up everythin' to the last farthin' and it fairly brought tears to her eyes to see dear empty boots lyin' there in the corner of his room, which alone showed trouble of mind for he always stood 'em up straight as solgers though bein' half-soled twice they hadn't of course been worth takin' away.'
Whereupon her dearest friend, Miss Scrumpkins, ran home to tell all about it. And, as every body knew the Scrumpkinses, a shining gossamer of news was soon woven from one end of the street to the other.
An investigating committee met, that evening, at Mrs. Snigham's—sitting, in secret session, over her best china. Though invited only to a quiet 'tea,' the amount of judicial business they transacted on the occasion was prodigious. The biscuits were actually cold before the committee had a chance to eat anything. There was so much to talk over—and it was so important that it should be firmly established that each member had always been certain sure that something extraordinary would be happening to that man yet," that it was near eight o'clock before Mrs. Snigham gave anybody a second cup.