Tom’s inability to accomplish this feat being most readily admitted on all sides, inquiry was immediately made as to the whereabouts of Charlie; his absence from the scene being rather considered as evidence of participation, for, it was argued, if he had been unaware of what was to transpire, the noise would have drawn him to the spot at once, as he was always the first at hand in the event of any excitement.  Robberts was despatched to see if he was in his bed, and returned with the intelligence that the bed had not even been opened.  Search was immediately instituted, and he was discovered in the closet at the foot of the stairs.  He was dragged forth, shaken, pummelled, and sent to bed, with the assurance that his mother should be sent for in the morning, to take him home, and keep him there.  This being exactly the point to which he was desirous of bringing matters, he went to bed, and passed a most agreeable night.

Aunt Rachel, being one of those sleepers that nothing short of an earthquake can rouse until their customary time for awaking, had slept soundly through the stirring events of the past night.  She came down in the morning in quite a placid state of mind, expecting to enjoy a day of rest, as she had the night before sat up much beyond her usual time, to set matters to rights after the confusion consequent on the dinner party.  What was her astonishment, therefore, on finding the kitchen she had left in a state of perfect order and cleanliness, in a condition that resembled the preparation for an annual house-cleaning.

“Lord, bless us!” she exclaimed, looking round; “What on yarth has happened?  I raly b’lieve dere’s bin a fire in dis ’ere house, and I never knowed a word of it.  Why I might have bin burnt up in my own bed!  Dere’s de lamp broke—­carpet burnt—­pots and skillets hauled out of the closet—­ebery ting turned upside down; why dere’s bin a reg’lar ’sturbance down here,” she continued, as she surveyed the apartment.

At this juncture, she espied Tom, who sat licking his paws before the fire, and presenting so altered an appearance, from the events of the night, as to have rendered him unrecognizable even by his best friend.

“Strange cat in de house!  Making himself quite at home at dat,” said aunt Rachel, indignantly.  Her wrath, already much excited, rose to the boiling point at what she deemed a most daring invasion of her domain.  She, therefore, without ceremony, raised a broom, with which she belaboured the astonished Tom, who ran frantically from under one chair to another till he ensconced himself in a small closet, from which he pertinaciously refused to be dislodged.  “Won’t come out of dere, won’t you?” said she.  “I’ll see if I can’t make you den;” and poor Tom dodged behind pots and kettles to avoid the blows which were aimed at him; at last, thoroughly enraged by a hard knock on the back, he sprang fiercely into the face of his tormentor, who, completely upset by the suddenness of his attack, fell sprawling on the floor, screaming loudly for help.  She was raised up by Robberts, who came running to her assistance, and, on being questioned as to the cause of her outcries, replied:—­