There were speaking-tubes in the porter's lodge, communicating with
each floor of the great Conti palace, but the porter did not move.
"I cannot go upstairs and leave the door," he said.
"You can speak to the servant through the tube, I suppose!"
The porter slowly shook his massive head, and his long grey beard
wagged from side to side.
"There are no servants upstairs," he said. "There is only the family."
"No servants? Are you crazy?"
"Oh, no!" answered the man meditatively. "I do not think I am mad. The
servants all went away last night after dinner, with their belongings.
There were only sixteen left, men and women, for I counted them."
"Do you mean to say--" The Baroness stopped in the middle of her
question, staring in amazement.
The porter now nodded, as solemnly as he had before shaken his head.
"Yes. This is the end of the house of Conti."
Then he looked at her as if he wished to be questioned, for he knew
that she was not really a great lady, and guessed that in spite of her
magnificent superiority and coldness she was not above talking to a
servant about her friends.
"But they must have somebody," she said. "They must eat, I suppose!
Somebody must cook for them. They cannot starve!"
"Who knows? Who knows? Perhaps they will starve."
The porter evidently took a gloomy view of the case.
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