He gave me the amused hand-shake and encouraging smile which the head master bestows upon the small boy, and, having greeted the others and helped to collect their bags and their cylinders of oxygen, he stowed us and them away in a large motor-car which was driven by the same impassive Austin, the man of few words, whom I had seen in the character of butler upon the occasion of my first eventful visit to the Professor.  Our journey led us up a winding hill through beautiful country.  I sat in front with the chauffeur, but behind me my three comrades seemed to me to be all talking together.  Lord John was still struggling with his buffalo story, so far as I could make out, while once again I heard, as of old, the deep rumble of Challenger and the insistent accents of Summerlee as their brains locked in high and fierce scientific debate.  Suddenly Austin slanted his mahogany face toward me without taking his eyes from his steering-wheel.

“I’m under notice,” said he.

“Dear me!” said I.

Everything seemed strange to-day.  Everyone said queer, unexpected things.  It was like a dream.

“It’s forty-seven times,” said Austin reflectively.

“When do you go?” I asked, for want of some better observation.  “I don’t go,” said Austin.

The conversation seemed to have ended there, but presently he came back to it.

“If I was to go, who would look after ’im?” He jerked his head toward his master.  “Who would ’e get to serve ’im?”

“Someone else,” I suggested lamely.

“Not ’e.  No one would stay a week.  If I was to go, that ’ouse would run down like a watch with the mainspring out.  I’m telling you because you’re ’is friend, and you ought to know.  If I was to take ’im at ’is word—­but there, I wouldn’t have the ’eart.  ’E and the missus would be like two babes left out in a bundle.  I’m just everything.  And then ’e goes and gives me notice.”

“Why would no one stay?” I asked.

“Well, they wouldn’t make allowances, same as I do.  ’E’s a very clever man, the master—­so clever that ’e’s clean balmy sometimes.  I’ve seen ’im right off ’is onion, and no error.  Well, look what ’e did this morning.”

“What did he do?”

Austin bent over to me.

“’E bit the ’ousekeeper,” said he in a hoarse whisper.

“Bit her?”

“Yes, sir.  Bit ’er on the leg.  I saw ’er with my own eyes startin’ a marathon from the ’all-door.”

“Good gracious!”

“So you’d say, sir, if you could see some of the goings on.  ’E don’t make friends with the neighbors.  There’s some of them thinks that when ’e was up among those monsters you wrote about, it was just `’Ome, Sweet ‘Ome’ for the master, and ’e was never in fitter company.  That’s what they say.  But I’ve served ’im ten years, and I’m fond of ’im, and, mind you, ’e’s a great man, when all’s said an’ done, and it’s an honor to serve ’im.  But ’e does try one cruel at times.  Now look at that, sir.  That ain’t what you might call old-fashioned ’ospitality, is it now?  Just you read it for yourself.”