"By Jove!" I exclaimed, "there's a wounded man by the side of my bed! I quite forgot him, I was so anxious to catch these blackguards."
The porter looked at me with distinct suspicion.
"A wounded man, sir?" he remarked. "Where?"
"On the other side of the bed," I answered. "It's the man all this row was about."
I hurried round to where I had left my terrified visitor hiding behind the bed-curtain. There was no one there. We looked under the bed, even in the wardrobes. It was obvious, when we had finished our search, that not a soul was in either of the rooms except our two selves. The porter looked at me, and I looked at the porter.
"It's a marvellous thing!" I declared.
"It is," the porter agreed.
"You can see for yourself that that door has been battered in," I remarked, pointing to it.
The fellow smiled in such a manner, that I should have liked to have kicked him.
"I can see that it has been battered in," he said. "Oh! yes! I can see that!"