"Monsieur's man-servant took monsieur's luggage to the railway-station;
he is gone by the early train to Turin."

"Gone to Turin with my luggage?"

"Yes, with the two portmanteaus--very heavy ones."

Richard got out of bed, and dragged his weary limbs into the
dressing-room, an inner apartment, where the portmanteaus were kept for
safety. They were both gone.

"What train did the scoundrel go by? Where is my watch? Why, the villain
has taken that too! Send for the police! No; there is no time to be
lost--send a telegram. Why, he has not even left me enough money to pay
a telegram!"

All his small change was gone. Honest John had taken everything; he had
not left his young master a single sixpence. At this revelation of
the state of affairs, poor Richard, weakened as he was by his long
excitement, threw himself on the bed and burst into tears. The
attendant, to whom, as usual, he had been liberal, was affected by an
emotion so strange in an Englishman.

"Monsieur must not fret; the thief will be caught and the money
restored. It will be well, perhaps to tell the _maitre d'hotel_."

The master of the hotel appeared with a very grave face. He was
desolated to hear of the misfortune that had befallen his young guest.
Perhaps there was not quite so much taken as had been reported.