—Ben Verulam.
UT what is in it?”
“I don't know, sir,” said Mr. Titch. I had just got back to my rooms and stood facing a gigantic packing-case that had appeared in my absence. It was labelled, “For Mr. Balfour, care of M. d'Haricot. Not to be opened.” Not another word of explanation, not a letter, not a message, nothing to throw light on the mystery. The three Titches and Halfred stood beside me also gazing at this strange offering.
“Could it be fruit, sir?” suggested Mrs. Titch, in her foolishly wise fashion.
“Fruit!” said Aramatilda, scornfully. “It must weigh near on a ton.”
“You 'aven't ordered any furniture inadvertently, as it were, sir?” asked Halfred, scratching his head, sagely.
“If anybody has ordered this it is evidently Mr. Balfour,” I replied.