“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. I have 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—”