By this process Mr. Hucks kept his Counting House replete, and even crowded, with chattels, some of which are reckoned among the necessaries of life, while others—­such as an accordion, a rain-gauge, and a case of stuffed humming-birds—­rank rather with its superfluities.  Of others again you wondered how on earth they had been taken in Mr. Hucks’s drag-net.  A carriage umbrella, for example, set you speculating on the vicissitudes of human greatness.  When the collection impinged upon Mr. Hucks so that he could not shave without knocking his elbow, he would hold an auction, and effect a partial clearance; and this would happen about once in four years.  But this clearance was never more than partial, and the residuum ever consisted in the main of musical instruments.  Every man has his own superstitions, and for some reason Mr. Hucks—­who had not a note of music in his soul—­deemed it unlucky to part with musical instruments, which was the more embarrassing because his most transitory tenants happened to be folk who practised music on the public for a livelihood—­German bandsmen, for instance, not so well versed in English law as to be aware that implements of a man’s trade stand exempt from seizure in execution.  Indeed, the bulk of the exhibits in Mr. Hucks’s museum could legally have been recovered from him under writ of replevy.  But there they were, and in the midst of them to-night their collector sat and worked at his ledger by the light of a hurricane lamp.

A knock at the door disturbed his calculations.

“Come in!” he called, and Dr. Glasson entered.

“Eh?  Good evenin’,” said Mr. Hucks, but without heartiness.

He disliked parsons.  He looked upon all men as rogues more or less, but held that ministers of religion claimed an unfair advantage on the handicap.  In particular this Dr. Glasson rubbed him, as he put it, the wrong way.

“Good evening,” said Dr. Glasson.  “You will excuse my calling at this late hour.”

“Cert’nly.  Come to pay for the coals?  Fifteen tons best Newcastle at eighteen shillin’ makes thirteen ten, and six pounds owin’ on the last account—­total nineteen ten.  Shall I make out the receipt?”

“You don’t seriously expect me, Mr. Hucks, to pay for your coals on the same day you deliver them—­”

“No,” Mr. Hucks agreed, “I didn’ expect it; but I looked for ye to pay up the last account before I sent any more on credit.  I’ve told Simmonds he was a fool to take your order, and he’ll get the sack if it happens again.  Fifteen tons, too!  But Simmonds has a weak sort of respect for parsons.  Sings in the choir somewhere.  Well, if you ain’t come to pay, you’ve come for something; to explain, may be, why you go sneakin’ around my foreman ‘stead of dealin’ with me straight an’ gettin’ ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Your manner is offensive, Mr. Hucks, but for the moment I must overlook it.  The fact is, I want information, if you can give it, on an urgent matter.  One of my charges is missing.”