continue my commercial travels, more from old custom than necessity, yet
I have never again seen that country where I became so unfortunate.
Every year since, I have received a thousand gold-pieces; and although
I rejoice to know that unfortunate man to be noble, yet he cannot
relieve me of the sorrow of my soul, for the terrible picture of the
murdered Bianca is continually on my mind.




PETER SCHLEMIHL

BY

ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO


CHAPTER I.

After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last
into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and,
squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest
inn which first met my gaze. On asking for a room the waiter looked at
me from head to foot, and conducted me to one. I asked for some cold
water, and for the correct address of Mr. Thomas John, which was
described as being "by the north gate, the first country-house to the
right, a large new house of red and white marble, with many pillars."
This was enough. As the day was not yet far advanced, I untied my
bundle, took out my newly-turned black coat, dressed myself in my best
clothes, and, with my letter of recommendation, set out for the man who