Hold on! [_He runs up to SPITTA and pushes and nudges the latter's arms and legs in order to produce the desired tragic pose._]--First of all, you lack the requisite statuesqueness of posture, my dear Spitta. The dignity of a tragic character is in nowise expressed in you. Then you did not, as I expressly desired you to do, advance your right foot from the field marked ID into that marked IIC! Finally, Mr. Quaquaro is waiting; so let us interrupt ourselves for a moment. So; now I'm at your service, Mr. Quaquaro. That is to say, I asked you to come up because, in making my inventory, it became clear that several cases and boxes cannot be found or, in other words, have been stolen. Now, before lodging information with the authorities which, of course, I am determined to do, I wanted first to get your advice. I wanted to do that all the more because, in place of the lost cases, there was found, in a corner of the attic, a very peculiar mess--a find that could appropriately be sent to Dr. Virchow. First there was a blue feather-duster, truly prehistoric, and an inexpressible vessel, the use of which, quite harmless in itself, is equally inexpressible. QUAQUARO Well, sir, I can climb up there if you want me to. HASSENREUTER Suppose you do that. Up there you'll meet Mrs. John, whom the find in question has disquieted even more than it has me. These three gentlemen, who are my pupils, won't be persuaded that something very like a murder didn't take place up there. But, if you please, let's not cause a scandal! KAeFERSTEIN When something got lost in my mother's shop in Schneidemuehl, it was always said that the rats had eaten it. And really, when you consider the number of rats and mice in this house--I very nearly stepped on one on the stairs a while ago--why shouldn't we suppose that the cases of costumes were devoured in the same way. Silk is said to be sweet. HASSENREUTER Very excellent! Very good! You're relieved from the necessity of indulging in any more notion-shopkeepers' fancies, my good Kaeferstein! Ha, ha, ha! It only remains for you to dish up for us the story of the cavalry man Sorgenfrei, who, according to your assertion, when this house was still a cavalry barracks, hanged himself--spurred and armed--in my loft. And then the last straw would be for you to direct our suspicions toward him. KAeFERSTEIN You can still see the very nail he used. QUAQUARO There ain't a soul in the house what don't know the story of the soldier Sorgenfrei who put an end to hisself with a rope somewhere under the rooftree. KAeFERSTEIN The carpenter's wife downstairs and a seamstress in the second story have repeatedly seen him by broad daylight nodding out of the attic window and bowing down with military demeanour. QUAQUARO A corporal, they says, called the soldier Sorgenfrei a windbag an' gave him a blow outa spite. An' the idjit took that to heart. HASSENREUTER