full. Considering all things, that is best."

"Monsieur," said the landlord to the new-comer, "these are all the
provisions I have left," pointing to the supper served to the two
Frenchmen; "I haven't so much as another crust of bread nor a bone."

"No sauer-kraut?"

"Not enough to put in my wife's thimble! As I had the honor to tell
you just now, you can have no bed but the chair on which you are
sitting, and no other chamber than this public room."

At these words the little man cast upon the landlord, the room, and
the two Frenchmen a look in which caution and alarm were equally
expressed.

["Here," said Monsieur Hermann, interrupting himself, "I ought to tell
you that we have never known the real name nor the history of this
man; his papers showed that he came from Aix-la-Chapelle; he called
himself Wahlenfer and said that he owned a rather extensive pin
manufactory in the suburbs of Neuwied. Like all the manufacturers of
that region, he wore a surtout coat of common cloth, waistcoat and
breeches of dark green velveteen, stout boots, and a broad leather
belt. His face was round, his manners frank and cordial; but during
the evening he seemed unable to disguise altogether some secret
apprehension or, possibly, some anxious care. The innkeeper's opinion
has always been that this German merchant was fleeing his country.
Later I heard that his manufactory had been burned by one of those
unfortunate chances so frequent in times of war. In spite of its
anxious expression the man's face showed great kindliness. His