ody, that is, except a few post-office officials, people quite
out of society.

Would he kindly bring along, say; one undoubtedly respectable citizen who
could vouch for our identity? The request caused him to forget us and
our troubles. The argument became a personal quarrel between the porter
and the clerk. If he, the porter, was not a respectable citizen of
Innsbruck, where was such an one to be found?

The disadvantage of being an unknown Person.

Both gentlemen became excited, and the discussion passed beyond my
understanding. But I gathered dimly from what the clerk said, that ill-
natured remarks relative to the porter's grandfather and a missing cow
had never yet been satisfactorily replied to: and, from observations made
by the porter, that stories were in circulation about the clerk's aunt
and a sergeant of artillery that should suggest to a discreet nephew of
the lady the inadvisability of talking about other people's grandfathers.

Our sympathies were naturally with the porter: he was our man, but he did
not seem to be advancing our cause much. We left them quarrelling, and
persuaded the head waiter that evening to turn out the gas at our end of
the _table d'hote_.

The next morning we returned to the post-office by ourselves. The clerk
proved a reasonable man when treated in a friendly spirit. He was a bit
of a climber himself. He admitted the possibility of our being the
rightful owners. His instructions were only not to _deliver up_ the
bags, and he himself suggested a way out of the difficulty. We might
come each day and dress in the post-office, behind the screen. It was an
awkward arrangement, even although the clerk allowed us the use of the
back door. And occasionally, in spite of the utmost care, bits of us
would show outside the screen. But for a couple of days, until the
British Consul returned from Salzburg, the post-office had to be our
dressing room. The continental official, I am inclined to think, errs on
the side of prudence.

CHAPTER V

If only we had not lost our Tails!

A friend of mine thinks it a pity that we have lost our tails. He argues
it would be so helpful if, like the dog, we possessed a tail that wagged
when we were pleased, that stuck out straight when we were feeling mad.

"Now, do come and see us again soon," says our hostess; "don't wait to be
asked. Drop in whenever you are passing."

We take her at her word. The servant who answe