The String of Pearls (1850), p. 197

in this that I should like to find out. Now, all the keys of all the attics ar alike. Just wait here, and I'll borrow Mrs. Macconikie's."
The shoemaker waited in no small amount of trepidation, while this process of key-borrowing from the old lady who enjoyed a pan of water, took place upon the part of his wife.

CHAPTER XL.

CROTCHET ASTONISHES MR. TODD.

The key was soon procured, but it will be recollected that Crotchet had fastened the door rather too securely for it to be opened by any such ordinary implement as a key, and so disappointment was the portion of the shoemaker's
wife.
"Don't you think, my love," said the shoemaker, "that it will be just as well to leave this affair until the morning, before taking any further notice of it?"
"And pray, then, am I to sleep all night, if I don't know the rights of it, I should like to know? Perhaps, if you can tell me that, you are a little wiser than I think you. Marry, come up."
"Oh, well, I only—"
"You only! Then only don't. That's the only favour I ask of you, sir, is to only don't."
What extraordinary favour this was, the lady did not condescend to explain any more particulars, but it was quite enough for the husband to understand that a storm was brewing, and to become humble and submissive accordingly.
"Well, my dear, I'm sure I only wish you to do just what you like ; that's all, my dear, I'm sure."
"Very good."
After this, she made the most vigorous efforts to get into the attic, and if any one had been there—which at that juncture there was not—they might truly
have asked "Who's that knocking at the door?" Finding that all her efforts were ineffectual, she took to peeping through the key-hole, but nothing was to be seen; and then, for the first time, the idea struck her that there was something supernatural about the business, and in a few moments this notion gained sufficient strength to engender some lively apprehensions.
"I tell you what," she said to her husband, " if you don't fetch a constable at once, and have the door opened, and see all about, I'm afraid—indeed I'm quite sure—I shall be very ill."
"Oh, dear—oh, dear."
"It's of no use your standing here and saying 'Oh, dear,' like a great stupid as you are — always was and always will be. Go for a constable,, at once."
" A constable?"
"Yes, There's Mr. Otton, the beadle of St. Dunstan's, lives opposite, as you well know, and he's a constable. Run over the way and fetch him, this minute."
She began hastily to descend the stairs, and the shoemaker followed her, remonstrating, for the idea of fetching a constable, and making him and his house
the talk of the whole neighbourhood, was by no means a proposition that met with his approval. The lady was positive, however, and Mr. Otton, the beadle of St. Dunstan's, was brought from over the way, and the case stated to him at length.
"Conwulsions!" exclaimed Otton, " what can I do ?"
"Burst open the door," said the lady.
"Burst a door open, mum! What is you a thinking on? Why, that's
contrary to Habus Corpus, mum, , and all that sort of thing. Conwulsions, mum! you mustn't do it. But I tell you what, now, will be the thing."