as the Emperor's provision for the journey had
been freely used.

In the second cart, an immense ark, swaying between four wheels and drawn
by a team of four horses, grave older artists sat silently opposite to
each other, all more or less exhausted by the continual rocking motion of
the long ride. These men and the other travellers were joyfully surprised
by the news that the goal of the journey was already at hand. Pressing
their heads together, they gazed out of the open linen tilt which arched
above the first cart or crowded to the little windows of the coaches to
see Ratisbon.

Even the old Neapolitan nurse, who was predicting future events from a
pack of cards, dropped them and peered out. But the noise in the second
tilted wagon was especially confused, for there the gay shouts of the boy
choir, only half of whom were on horseback, mingled with the loud talking
of the women, the screams of the babies, and the barking of the dogs.

The groans of two young singers who were seriously ill were drowned by
the din and heeded by no one except the old drummer's pitying wife, who
sometimes wiped the perspiration from the sufferers' brows or supported
their heads.

Other carts, containing the musicians' instruments, followed this tilted
wagon. Some members of the orchestra would not part with theirs, and
behind the saddle of many a mounted virtuoso or attendant was fastened a
violin case or a shapeless bag which concealed some other instrument.

A large number of musicians mounted on horses or mules surrounded the
two-wheeled cart in which sat Hernbeize of Ghent, the treasurer of the
orchestra, and his fat wife. The corpulent couple, squeezed closely
together, silent and out of humour, had taken no notice of each other or
their surrounding since Frau Olympia had presumed to drag her husband by
force out of the first wagon, where he was paying a visit to a clarionet
player's pretty young wife.

Whenever Wolf appeared he urged the horsemen and drivers to greater
haste, and thus the musical caravan, with its unauthorized companions,
succeeded in passing through the gate ere it closed. Beyond it the
travellers were received by Quijada, the imperial valet, Adrian Dubois,
and several quartermasters, who meanwhile had provided lodgings.

The major-domo greeted the musicians with dignified condescension, Wolf
with familiar friendship. Master Adrian, the valet, also shook hands
cordially with him and Massi, the "first violi