for at least a week of insomnia.

I had no difficulty whatever in striking a bargain with the abandoned
wretch who owned the Schloss. He seemed very eager to submit to my
demand that he knock off a thousand pounds sterling, and we hunted up
a notary and all the other officials necessary to the transfer of
property. At the end of three days, I was the sole owner and proprietor
of a feudal stronghold on the Danube, and the joyous Austrian was a
little farther on his way to the dogs, a journey he had been negotiating
with great ardour ever since coming into possession of an estate once
valued at several millions. I am quite sure I have never seen a
spendthrift with more energy than this fellow seems to have displayed
in going through with his patrimony. He was on his uppers, so to speak,
when I came to his rescue, solely because he couldn't find a purchaser
or a tenant for the castle, try as he would. Afterwards I heard that
he had offered the place to a syndicate of Jews for one-third the price
I paid, but luckily for me the Hebraic instinct was not so keen as
mine. They let a very good bargain get away from them. I have not told
my most intimate friends what I paid for the castle, but they are all
generous enough to admit that I could afford it, no matter what it
cost me. Their generosity stops there, however. I have never had so
many unkind things said to me in all my life as have been said about
this purely personal matter.

Well, to make the story short, the Hazzards and I returned to Schloss
Rothhoefen in some haste, primarily for the purpose of inspecting it
from dungeon to battlement. I forgot to mention that, being very tired
after the climb up the steep, we got no further on our first visit
than the great baronial hall, the dining-room and certain other
impressive apartments customarily kept open for the inspection of