"By Jove!" I exclaimed, "there's a wounded man by the side of my bed! I
quite forgot him, I was so anxious to catch these blackguards."

The porter looked at me with distinct suspicion.

"A wounded man, sir?" he remarked. "Where?"

"On the other side of the bed," I answered. "It's the man all this row
was about."

I hurried round to where I had left my terrified visitor hiding behind
the bed-curtain. There was no one there. We looked under the bed, even in
the wardrobes. It was obvious, when we had finished our search, that not
a soul was in either of the rooms except our two selves. The porter
looked at me, and I looked at the porter.

"It's a marvellous thing!" I declared.

"It is," the porter agreed.

"You can see for yourself that that door has been battered in," I
remarked, pointing to it.

The fellow smiled in such a manner, that I should have liked to have
kicked him.

"I can see that it has been battered in," he said. "Oh! yes! I can see
that!"