"Then you never saw him?" I followed her up with.
"Nor yet," said Mrs. Pratchett, shutting her eyes and making as if she
had just took a pill of unusual circumference,--which gave a remarkable
force to her denial,--"nor yet any servant in this house. All have been
changed, Mr. Christopher, within five year, and Somebody left his Luggage
here before then."
Inquiry of Miss Martin yielded (in the language of the Bard of A.1.)
"confirmation strong." So it had really and truly happened. Miss Martin
is the young lady at the bar as makes out our bills; and though higher
than I could wish considering her station, is perfectly well-behaved.
Farther investigations led to the disclosure that there was a bill
against this Luggage to the amount of two sixteen six. The Luggage had
been lying under the bedstead of 24 B over six year. The bedstead is a
four-poster, with a deal of old hanging and valance, and is, as I once
said, probably connected with more than 24 Bs,--which I remember my
hearers was pleased to laugh at, at the time.
I don't know why,--when DO we know why?--but this Luggage laid heavy on
my mind. I fell a wondering about Somebody, and what he had got and been
up to. I couldn't satisfy my thoughts why he should leave so much
Luggage against so small a bill. For I had the Luggage out within a day
or two and turned it over, and the following were the items:--A black
portmanteau, a black bag, a desk, a dressing-case, a brown-paper parcel,
a hat-box, and an umbrella strapped to a walking-stick.
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