The Facts in the Curious Case of H. Hyrtl, Esq

In high indignation at the old man's mulish obstinacy Hugh strode out into the street and on and beyond into other regions of the city. He was vastly annoyed, and his annoyance was increased by the fact that he had permitted it to be apparent. He should have been calm, he told himself, calm, though authoritative, and he should have displayed, with cogent reasonings, the folly of supposing that at the tail-end of the nineteenth century a young woman could be sequestrated and kept apart from her lover. It was that he should have made manifest, and with it his ability to provide not only for Jenny, but for her father, her grandfather -- for as many Sissetons as could be produced. And instead of that, instead of showing the slightest tact, the merest spark of common sense, he had threatened the old man with a summons and made him an enemy for life. There was now but one course left for him to pursue: to apologize as abjectly as he knew how, and that failing, to elope with Jenny on the spot. That she would go with him he did not doubt for an instant, and already he saw himself, another Lochinvar, bearing off the girl of his heart in a green car to the nearest parsonage available.

In dreams forecast he turned and retraced his steps. He would have it out with the old man at once, he determined; and on reaching Tompkins Square he marched straight upstairs and knocked, gently and deferentially at the Sisseton door. Save the beating of his own heart there was not a sound to be heard. He knocked again, a trifle more resolutely, yet still there was no reply. He peered through the keyhole. Not a glimmer of light was to be seen.