Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him.The smell of garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a grimace.Once alone in the room, he looked about.There was neither soap nor towel, but there was a card which stated that the same could be purchased at the office.He laughed.A pitcher of water and a bowl stood on a small table, which, by the presence of a mirror (that could not in truth reflect anything but light and darkness), served as a dresser.These he used to good advantage, drying his face and hands on the white counterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so.Next he lit a pipe, whose capacity for tobacco was rather less than that of a lady's thimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked quietly, and gazed down on the busy street.
It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and women peasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy Servian ponies attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from the markets.A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard of a police saber, rested against the corner of a wine shop across the way.Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along, twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats.Occasionally the bright uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the Englishman would lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head in approval whenever the cuirassier sat his horse well.
In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, had entered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written name, and made off toward the palace.
"Well, here we are," mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into the bowl of his pipe."The affair promises some excitement.
To-morrow will be the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as the diplomats would say.I don't know what brought me here so far ahead of time.I suppose I must look out for a crack on the head from some one I don't know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me in India and England, first with fine bribes, then with threats." He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the gun cases."It was a capital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who lies in wait for the unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate of a hospital.To have lived thirty-five years, and to have ground out thirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdain for danger, even when it is masked.Iam curious to see how far these threats will go.It will take a clever man to trap me.The incognito is a fort.By the way, Iwonder how the inspectors at the station came to overlook my traps? Strange, considering what I have gone through."At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no effort to rise."Come in!"The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in dark gray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons.He was the chief inspector of customs.He bowed.
The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his pipe.
"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon," the inspector began, speaking in French, "but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage and glance at your passports." He bowed again.
"Now do you know, mon ami," replied the Englishman, "that Monsieur Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder washbowl?" He rose lazily.
"But, Monsieur," cried the astonished official, to whom non-complaisance in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, "you certainly will not put any obstacle in the path of my duty!""Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station.There your assistants refused to award me their attention.You are trespassing.""Monsieur forgets," sternly; "it is the law.Is it possible that I shall be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is extraordinary!""I dare say it is, on your part," admitted the Englishman, polishing the bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose.
"You had best go at once.If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck and kick you down the stairs.Ihave every assurance of my privileges.The law here, unless it has changed within the past hour, requires inspection at the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction does not extend beyond the stations.Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles;bon jour!"
"O, Monsieur!"
"Good day!"
"Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!"
"Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I--but wait!" an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on the possible outcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, was discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors.He walked swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the terror of the inspector, on whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather."Now," opening the hat box and taking out a silk hat, "this is a hat, purchased in Paris at Cook's.There is nothing in the lining but felt.Look into the box; nothing.Take out your book and follow me closely," he continued, dividing the traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate the contents.
"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul."This is--""Be still and follow me," and the Englishman went on with the inventory."There!" when he had done, "not a dutiable thing except this German-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you rather than pay duty.What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutely flawless, vised by the authorities in Vienna."The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector.
"They are as you say, Monsieur," he said, returning the permits.
Then he added timidly, "And the gun cases?""The gun cases!" The pipe spilled its coal to the floor."The gun cases!""Yes, Monsieur."
"And why do you wish to look into them?" with agitation.
