Even when the boat had arrived at the pier he still remained in the
berth he had occupied all night, and would probably have continued
to lie there had not the steward lifted him by main force to his
feet. He seized his black bag with a groan, and staggered on deck.
Here he felt a little better, but new terrors seized him at the
sight of the gold-laced officials and blue-bloused porters, who
lined each side of the gangway, all talking at the top of their
voices, and in tones which seemed, to his unaccustomed ear, to
convey a thirst for British blood. No sooner had he landed than he
was accosted by a ferocious-looking personage (in truth, a harmless
custom-house officer), who asked him in French whether he had
anything to declare, and made a movement to take his bag in order
to mark it as "passed." Quelch jumped to the conclusion that the
stranger was a brigand bent on depriving him of his property, and
he held on to the bag with such tenacity that the douanier naturally
inferred there was something specially contraband about it. He
proceeded to open it, and produced, among sundry other feminine
belongings, a lady's frilled and furbelowed night-dress, from which,
as he unrolled it, fell a couple of bundles of cigars!
Benjamin's look of astonishment as he saw these unexpected articles
produced from his hand-bag was interpreted by the officials as a
look of guilt.
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