"He seems to have a share of humour at anyrate,"--I said; "I should not
have thought it of him. But do you think these antics of his are
mischievous?"
"Well that scullery girl is very ill to-day,"--replied Morris; "I expect
she'll have to leave. She has what she calls the 'jumps' and none of us
dare tell her how she got them. No sir, believe me or not as you like,
there's something very queer about that Amiel. And another thing I want
to know is this--what does he do with the other servants?"
"What does he do with the other servants?" I repeated
bewilderedly--"What on earth do you mean?"
"Well sir, the prince has a _chef_ of his own hasn't he?" said Morris
enumerating on his fingers--"And two personal attendants besides
Amiel,--quiet fellows enough who help in the waiting. Then he has a
coachman and groom. That makes six servants altogether. Now none of
these except Amiel are ever seen in the hotel kitchens. The _chef_ sends
all the meals in from somewhere, in a heated receptacle--and the two
other fellows are never seen except when waiting at table, and they
don't live in their own rooms all day, though they _may_ sleep
there,--and nobody knows where the carriage and horses are put up, or
where the coachman and groom lodge. Certain it is that both they and the
_chef_ board out. It seems to me very mysterious."