On the floor beneath Michael read _Bannerman_ over the left-hand door and _Templeton-Collins_ over the right-hand door. While he was pondering the personality and status of Templeton-Collins, presumably the gentleman himself appeared, stared at Michael very deliberately, came forward and, leaning over the parapet, yelled in a voice that combined rage, protest, disappointment and appeal with the maximum of sound: “Porcher!” After which, Templeton-Collins again stared very deliberately at Michael and retired into his room, while Michael hurried down to intercept the scout, hoping his dismay at Templeton-Collins’ impatience would not be too great to allow him to pay a moment’s attention to himself.
However, on the ground floor the silence was still unbroken, and hopelessly Michael read over the right-hand door _Amherst_, over the left-hand door _Lonsdale_. What critical moment had arrived in the unpacking of Lonsdale’s wine to make the scout so heedless of Templeton-Collins’ call? Again it resounded from above, and Michael looking up involuntarily, caught the downward glance of Templeton-Collins himself.
“I say, is Porcher down there?” the latter asked fretfully.
“I think he’s unpacking Lonsdale’s wine.”
“Who’s Lonsdale?” demanded Templeton-Collins. “You might sing out and tell him I want him.”
With this request Templeton-Collins vanished, leaving Michael in a quandary. There was only one hope of relieving the intolerable situation, he thought, which was to shout “Porcher” from where he was standing. This he did at the very moment the scout emerged from Lonsdale’s rooms.
“Coming, sir,” said Porcher in an aggrieved voice.
“I think Mr. Templeton-Collins is calling you,” Michael explained, rather lamely he felt, since it must have been obvious to the scout that Michael himself had been calling him.
“And I say,” he added hurriedly, “you might bring me up a hammer or something to open my boxes, when you’ve done.”
Leaving Porcher to appease the outraged Templeton-Collins, Michael retreated to the security of his own rooms, where in a few minutes the scout appeared to raise the question of lunch.
“Commons is bread and cheese. Most of my gentlemen takes commons. If you want anything extra, you go to the kitchen and write your name down for what you want.”