“Yessir!” said Jonkin.
He brought the cardboard boxes with stealthy walk, and handed them about.
“Jonkin,” said Horace—“is everything packed?”
“The serious baggage is all ready, sir,” said Jonkin.
“I want you to take it all away the very first thing in the morning, and get it out of sight and off to London before the men arrive to drape the room.”
“Yessir.”
“Not a thing about the place here after to-morrow morning but what will go into my oldest and most battered bullock-trunk and my portmanteau.”
“Yessir.”
“And you understand you are not to leave any silver-mounted things about.”
“Yessir.”