“To tell you, then, what really did happen to me: I got in here late last night, and after entering my name at the office, pulled out my purse and paid the cabby; I then went to my room, and being very tired, tumbled out of my clothes as rapidly as nature and art would permit me, put them on a chair near the bed, and was soon among the flowery meads of dream-land. This morning, lo and behold! the purse which I had left in my pocket was gone, some villain having, while I slept, entered the room by the door, which I had omitted to fasten. Now, then, what are my rights and remedies in the premises?” asked my friend.

“In the days when the Virgin Queen, Elizabeth, ruled the benighted land of our ancestors, and trifled with the affections of subject, prince, king, czar, and Cæsar, the whole Court of Queen’s Bench decided that an innkeeper was bound by law to keep the goods and chattels of his guests, without any stealing or purloining, and that it was no excuse for him to say that he delivered to the guest the key of his bed-room, and that he (the guest) had left the door open, (that is, I presume, unlocked);[290] for that he, the landlord, is responsible for their safety, even in the bed-room, and that even though the poor publican never knew that his visitor had any property with him, and was entirely ignorant of the depredation. Unless, indeed, the thief was the guest’s servant or friend, or the proprietor had required the guest to place his goods in a particular chamber, under lock and key, saying that then he would warrant their safety, otherwise not, and the man had foolishly neglected the advice.”[291]

“Ah, well! then I am all right.”

“Kindly refrain from forming a definite opinion until you are in full possession of the whole law on the subject. I know that it has been held again and again, in England, that a guest is not bound to either fasten or lock his door.[292] In a very late case Lord Chancellor Cairns remarked that he would be sorry to say any single word implying that there is any rule of law as to this;[293] and our own authorities seem to be in unison with the English decisions.[294] But perhaps you may have heard the remark that circumstances alter cases.”

“I must confess the maxim has a ring not altogether novel to my ears.”

“I may say that it is particularly true in legal matters; and sometimes it is incumbent on a guest to fasten his door.[295] For example, a commercial traveler obtained a private room wherein to exhibit his goods to his customers. Clements, the landlord, told him to lock the door. This the man neglected to do, although while showing his samples a stranger had twice popped his phiz into the room. The court considered that the traveler by his own act had absolved Clements from his liability, and that he must hear his loss as philosophically as possible.”[296]

“Did the occupants of the bench state the why and the wherefore?”

“Yes; and it was partly on the ground that the hotel-keeper was not bound to extend the same protection to goods placed in a room for the purposes of trade as to those in an ordinary chamber. (You know the liability is only as to baggage; it extends not to merchandise.)[297] And further, that circumstances of suspicion had arisen which should have put the guest on his guard; that after the vision of the strange head it became his duty, in whatever room he might be, to use at least ordinary diligence, and particularly so as he was occupying the apartment for a special purpose. For though, in general, a traveler who resorts to an inn may rest upon the protection which the law casts around him, yet, if circumstances of suspicion arise, he must exercise at least ordinary care.”[298]

“But,” said my companion, “I had no head to warn me—not even Banquo-like did any ‘horrible shadow, unreal mockery’ appear, to place me on my guard.”

“A case occurred at Bristol, in England, which may, perchance, put the matter to you in a clear light. A man of foreign extraction, Oppenheim by name, went to the White Lion Hotel. While in a public room he took from his pocket a canvas bag, containing twenty-two gold sovereigns, some silver, and a £5 note, and extracted therefrom a tanner—”