I sat up in bed and shouted,
"Come in!"
A waiter entered bearing a note, which he handed to me on a salver. I
looked at him, around the room, which was still in some confusion, and
down at the note, which was clearly addressed to me, J. Hardross Courage,
Esq. Suddenly my eyes fell upon the smashed door, and I remembered at
once the events of the previous night. I tore open the note. It was
typewritten and brief:--
"The manager presents his compliments to Mr. Hardross Courage, and would
be obliged if he will arrange to vacate his room by midday. The manager
further regrets that he is unable to offer Mr. Courage any other
accommodation."
"Tell the valet to let me have a bath in five minutes," I ordered,
springing out of bed, "and bring me some tea. Look sharp!"
I was in a furious temper. The events of the night before, strange though
they had been, left me comparatively unmoved. I was filled, however, with
a thoroughly British indignation at the nature of this note. My room had
been broken into in the middle of the night; I had narrowly escaped being
myself the victim of a serious and murderous assault; and now I was
calmly told to leave the hotel! I hastened downstairs and into the
office.
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