path made for the goats across the lofty walls of bluish granite
between which foams the Rhine. Presently they descended by one of the
declivities of the gorge, at the foot of which is placed the little
town, seated coquettishly on the banks of the river and offering a
convenient port to mariners.

"Germany is a beautiful country!" cried one of the two young men, who
was named Prosper Magnan, at the moment when he caught sight of the
painted houses of Andernach, pressed together like eggs in a basket,
and separated only by trees, gardens, and flowers. Then he admired for
a moment the pointed roofs with their projecting eaves, the wooden
staircases, the galleries of a thousand peaceful dwellings, and the
vessels swaying to the waves in the port.

[At the moment when Monsieur Hermann uttered the name of Prosper
Magnan, my opposite neighbor seized the decanter, poured out a glass
of water, and emptied it at a draught. This movement having attracted
my attention, I thought I noticed a slight trembling of the hand and a
moisture on the brow of the capitalist.

"What is that man's name?" I asked my neighbor.

"Taillefer," she replied.

"Do you feel ill?" I said to him, observing that this strange
personage was turning pale.

"Not at all," he said with a polite gesture of thanks. "I am
listening," he added, with a nod to the guests, who were all
simultaneously looking at him.