done nothing had I been sure. We were not to stop again before
Wintenberg, and, with my luggage or without it, I myself must be
in the town that evening.

We arrived punctual to our appointed time. I sat in the carriage
a moment or two, expecting Bauer to open the door and relieve me
of my small baggage. He did not come, so I got out. It seemed
that I had few fellow-passengers, and these were quickly
disappearing on foot or in carriages and carts that waited
outside the station. I stood looking for my servant and my
luggage. The evening was mild; I was encumbered with my hand-bag
and a heavy fur coat. There were no signs either of Bauer or of
baggage. I stayed where I was for five or six minutes. The guard
of the train had disappeared, but presently I observed the
station-master; he seemed to be taking a last glance round the
premises. Going up to him I asked whether he had seen my servant;
he could give me no news of him. I had no luggage ticket, for
mine had been in Bauer's hands; but I prevailed on him to allow
me to look at the baggage which had arrived; my property was not
among it. The station-master was inclined, I think, to be a
little skeptical as to the existence both of bag and of servant.
His only suggestion was that the man must have been left behind
accidentally. I pointed out that in this case he would not have
had the bag with him, but that it would have come on in the
train. The station-master admitted the force of my argument; he
shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands out; he was evidently
at the end of his resources.

Now, for the first time and with sudden force, a doubt of Bauer's
fidelity thrust itself into my mind. I remembered how little I