first thing I recognised on leaving the house was my dog Robber,
who had been stolen from us a year before. At first I thought it
was a ghost, but I called out to him sharply in a shrill voice.
The animal seemed to recognise me, and approached me cautiously,
but my sudden movement towards him with outstretched arms seemed
only to revive memories of the few chastisements I had foolishly
inflicted on him during the latter part of our association, and
this memory prevailed over all others. He drew timidly away from
me and, as I followed him with some eagerness, he ran, only to
accelerate his speed when he found he was being pursued. I became
more and more convinced that he had recognised me, because he
always looked back anxiously when he reached a corner; but seeing
that I was hunting him like a maniac, he started off again each
time with renewed energy. Thus I followed him through a labyrinth
of streets, hardly distinguishable in the thick mist, until I
eventually lost sight of him altogether, never to see him again.
It was near the church of St. Roch, and I, wet with perspiration
and quite breathless, was still bearing the metronome. For a
while I stood motionless, glaring into the mist, and wondered
what the ghostly reappearance of the companion of my travelling
adventures on this day might portend! The fact that he had fled
from his old master with the terror of a wild beast filled my
heart with a strange bitterness and seemed to me a horrible omen.
Sadly shaken, I set out again, with trembling limbs, upon my
weary errand.

Heinrich Brockhaus told me he could not help me, and I left him.
I was sorely ashamed, but made a strong effort to conceal the
painfulness of my situation. My other undertakings turned out
equally hopeless, and after having been kept waiting for hours at