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I went into my own room, and put all my things into my portmanteau, for according to the custom, which is invariable in Italy when an early start is premeditated, the Boots was imperative in his demand that the luggage should be ready over night. I then went to the Greene’s sitting-room, and found that the whole party was now aware of my intentions.

“So you are going to desert us,” said Mrs. Greene.

“I must go on upon my journey,” I pleaded in a weak apologetic voice.

“Go on upon your journey, sir!” said Mrs. Greene. “I would not for a moment have you put yourself to inconvenience on our account.” And yet I had already lost fourteen napoleons, and given up all prospect of going to Venice!

“Mr. Robinson is certainly right not to break his engagement with Miss Walker,” said Sophonisba. Now I had said not a word about an engagement with Miss Walker, having only mentioned incidentally that she would be one of the party at Innspruck. “But,” continued she, “I think he should not have misled us.” And in this way we enjoyed our evening meal.

I was just about to shake hands with them all, previous to my final departure from their presence, when the Boots came into the room.

“I’ll leave the portmanteau till to-morrow morning,” said he.

“All right,” said I.

“Because,” said he, “there will be such a crowd of things in the hall. The big trunk I will take away now.”

“Big trunk,–what big trunk?”

“The trunk with your rug over it, on which your portmanteau stood.”

I looked round at Mr., Mrs., and Miss Greene, and saw that they were all looking at me. I looked round at them, and as their eyes met mine I felt that I turned as red as fire. I immediately jumped up and rushed away to my own room, hearing as I went that all their steps were following me. I rushed to the inner recess, pulled down the portmanteau, which still remained in its old place, tore away my own carpet rug which covered the support beneath it, and there saw–a white canvas-covered box, with a hole in the canvas on the side next to me!

“It is my box,” said Mrs. Greene, pushing me away, as she hurried up and put her finger within the rent.

“It certainly does look like it,” said Mr. Greene, peering over his wife’s shoulder.

“There’s no doubt about the box,” said Sophonisba.

“Not the least in life,” said I, trying to assume an indifferent look.

“Mon Dieu!” said the Boots.

“Corpo di Baccho!” exclaimed the landlord, who had now joined the party.

“Oh–h–h–h–!” screamed Mrs. Greene, and then she threw herself hack on to my bed, and shrieked hysterically.

There was no doubt whatsoever about the fact. There was the lost box, and there it had been during all those tedious hours of unavailing search. While I was suffering all that fatigue in Milan, spending my precious zwanzigers in driving about from one hotel to another, the box had been safe, standing in my own room at Bellaggio, hidden by my own rug. And now that it was found everybody looked at me as though it were all my fault.

Mrs. Greene’s eyes, when she had done being hysterical, were terrible, and Sophonisba looked at me as though I were a convicted thief.

“Who put the box here?” I said, turning fiercely upon the Boots.

“I did,” said the Boots, “by Monsieur’s express order.”

“By my order?” I exclaimed.

“Certainly,” said the Boots.

“Corpo di Baccho!” said the landlord, and he also looked at me as though I were a thief. In the mean time the landlady and the three daughters had clustered round Mrs. Greene, administering to her all manner of Italian consolation. The box, and the money, and the jewels were after all a reality; and much incivility can be forgiven to a lady who has really lost her jewels, and has really found them again.