"
At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but
making no effort to rise. "Come in!"
The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in
dark gray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He
was the chief inspector of customs. He bowed.
The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his
pipe.
"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon," the inspector began, speaking in
French, "but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage
and glance at your passports." He bowed again.
"Now do you know, mon ami," replied the Englishman, "that
Monsieur Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder
washbowl?" He rose lazily.
"But, Monsieur," cried the astonished official, to whom non-
complaisance in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, "you
certainly will not put any obstacle in the path of my duty!"
"Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the
station. There your assistants refused to award me their
attention. You are trespassing."
"Monsieur forgets," sternly; "it is the law. Is it possible that
I shall be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is
extraordinary!"
"I dare say it is, on your part," admitted the Englishman,
polishing the bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose.
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