Jörgel, who, with the utmost determination, resolved to fulfill his
duty as guide, marshaled us up this old creaking ladder, then up a
second, until we stopped in an open gallery sheltered by the wooden
eaves, where a feeble old woman nursed an idiot child in the
gloaming. And yet what a landscape to relieve this desolate
foreground!--slumbrous mountains, dewy meadows, peaceful villages,
over which the calm of Sunday lay. We stood drinking in the tranquil
scene, when a woman in blue apron and of rapid motion quickly touched
my elbow with a large key; and bidding us follow she hastily flung
open the door of a narrow wainscoted closet, smelling of hay. "She had
no other room," she blurted forth, and then, without word of apology,
disappeared as speedily as she had come. We found ourselves the owners
of two large bedsteads and two dilapidated chairs: everywhere in the
house we had caught glimpses of broken-backed chairs, witnesses either
of poverty or riot.

A modest tap at the door announced worthy Jörgel. He tried to comfort
us in his rough and honest way, with "They that sent you here are to
blame."

We interrupted him, saying that the fault lay with ourselves.

"Well, well! how could you tell? But have no fears. This house is
disorderly for the want of a head, but remember, there's an elixir of
life in the water. I'm very much satisfied with what you have paid
me, and the next time we meet we shall regard each other as old
acquaintance."

He lifted his empty _kraxe_ upon his shoulders, and went out. We
waited to see his square figure appear in the path below, like those