Podb. (innocently). Why, my dear chap, I thought you wanted 'em kept out of your way!
[CULCHARD slams his bedroom door with temper, leaving PODBURY outside, still chuckling.
THE WRONG OF SEARCH.
(A Dream of the British Inquisition.)
The unfortunate foreigner, travel-stained and suffering from the after-glow of a stormy passage, crawled up the gangway and was once more on land. He carried in his hand a portmanteau.
"Have you anything to declare?" asked an official, in a gold-peaked cap and blue frock coat, gruffly.
"Only that your seas are terrible," was the reply.
The official made no answer, but merely pointed to some planks that had been placed upon trestles. The foreigner glanced at the people who were standing in front of these planks, and noticed that they were pale with apprehension.
"Have you anything to declare?" was a second time uttered—now by a person less gold-laced. Then the official continued, "Here, open it!"