rply that her master
was up-stairs, and was not to be bothered by anybody.

"Come along with me, sir," said Sergeant Cuff, coolly leading the way
up-stairs, and beckoning to the boy to follow him.

The barmaid called to her master, and warned him that strangers
were intruding themselves into the house. On the first floor we were
encountered by the Landlord, hurrying down, in a highly irritated state,
to see what was the matter.

"Who the devil are you? and what do you want here?" he asked.

"Keep your temper," said the Sergeant, quietly. "I'll tell you who I am
to begin with. I am Sergeant Cuff."

The illustrious name instantly produced its effect. The angry landlord
threw open the door of a sitting-room, and asked the Sergeant's pardon.

"I am annoyed and out of sorts, sir--that's the truth," he said.
"Something unpleasant has happened in the house this morning. A man in
my way of business has a deal to upset his temper, Sergeant Cuff."

"Not a doubt of it," said the Sergeant. "I'll come at once, if you will
allow me, to what brings us here. This gentleman and I want to trouble
you with a few inquiries, on a matter of some interest to both of us."

"Relating to what, sir?" asked the landlord.

"Relating to a dark man, dressed like a sailor, who slept here last
night."

"Good God! that's the man who is upsetting the whole house at this
moment!" exclaimed the landlord. "Do you, or does this gentleman know
anything about him?"

"We can't be certain till we see him," answered the Sergeant.

"See him?" echoed the landlord. "That's the one thing that nobody has
been able to do since seven o'clock this morning. That was the time when
he left word, last night, that he was to be called. He WAS called--and
there was no getting an answer from him, and no opening his door to see
what was the matter. They tried again at eight, and they tried again
at nine. No use! There was the door still locked--and not a sound to be
heard in the room! I have been out this morning--and I only got back a
quarter of an hour ago. I have hammered at the door myself--and all to
no purpose. The potboy has gone to fetch a carpenter. If you can wait
a few minutes, gentlemen, we will have the door opened, and see what it
means."

"Was the man drunk last night?" asked Sergeant Cuff.

"Perfectly sober, sir--or I would never have let him sleep in my house."

"Did he pay for his bed beforehand?"

"No."

"Could he leave the room in any way,