Could the girl be so indiscreet? ... Nothing could have been easier for him than to answer the question for himself by peeping. But he would not do it, for the hotel-porter was a gentleman. The question that troubled him was, however, soon to answer itself. One afternoon, when Ruth was out to Ernie's knowledge, he was surprised to hear in the dressing-room the familiar voices of Céleste and another maid, hushed and whispering. "She keeps the key her side," one was saying. "What's it matter who keeps the key?" the other answered. "That's only a bluff." The door was slightly ajar. "He don't seem to have give her nothing," said the one at the dressing-table discontentedly. "Only cash. Cash is the thing. Then you can get what you like for yourself." "Here's her Bible and pray-book! _Look!_--Ain't she just the little limit?--and that close with it too." "It's always the same. It's the dark uns are the deep uns." "Don't you dare to chip her then," warned the other. "She's Madame's own ducky-darlin-doodle-day." Ernie opened the door. The two girls turned in a scared flutter. "There!--It's only old Ernie Boots!" cried Céleste relieved. "He don't count, Ernie don't.--But you give me the palpitations though." Ernie held the door wide. "You've no business in here," he said sternly. "No one has--only the Captain, old cock," retorted Céleste flippantly. The two girls flirted away with high noses and a rustle of silken underwear. Ernie looked round the little room with the eyes of a furtive watch-dog. He had no business there; and being there he ought to make it his duty to see nothing. But he did see; and what he saw was that the bed was not in use. Thrown carelessly upon it was a regimental blazer, obviously awaiting repair, and a pair of socks in like case. Beside them was a work-bag. He moved the blazer and saw beneath it a silver cigarette-case. Then in the grate he saw the burnt end of a cigarette. With beating heart, but unruffled air, he went out. The two mocking-birds were perched on a window-sill at the end of the corridor. "Pore old Ernie boy!" they cried in chorus. "Did he think she was for him?" ... The story trickled down to the boot-room in the basement, which was a kind of cess-pool into which all the moral filth in the Hotel poured and finally accumulated. Don John openly mocked Ernie. "Here's Caspar!--Thought he'd have a chance against the toff!" Ernie flashed round on him. "Stow it!" he ordered. The Austrian was afraid. "Soldier! soldier!" he croaked, hiding his fear behind hideous laughter, and reported his enemy to Salvation Joe. That worthy, swollen and stiff with righteousness as the Jehovah of the Israelites, and glad of his chance, tackled Ernie on the subject. "What's this then?" he said, stopping the other. "What, sir?" asked Ernie. "Fighting in the boot-hole," answered Jehovah in his voice of thunder, subdued and distant.