uncle would breakfast in his tub, like
Diogenes, off simple bones and cutlets, Sylvester ate some sort of
a mash made of bruised oats: while the nephew made an untenable
pretension to family honors, the elder talked familiarly of the
porcelain trade, freely alluding to the youth as a piece of precious
Sevres that had cracked.

He met my advances with a calmness, imprinted with astonishment, that
recalled me to myself. Against such a refrigerator my heart and fancy
recovered their proper level: I had been caressing an iceberg in a
white cravat. I examined my emotions, and found, to my shame, that my
warmth had a selfish origin in the fact that I was alone in Carlsruhe,
greatly in need of a passport and a purse.

"Do you intend shortly to quit the archducal seat?" asked Sylvester,
by way of an agreeable remark.

"I have the strongest obligations to be at home," I returned. "I only
await your kind assistance about my passport."

"It is expected at the office, but I fear it will not be received in
time for you to take the next train. I fear we shall be obliged to
keep you with us until thirty minutes past one."

He conferred on me, with his neck and his hand, a salute which had the
effect of being made from a distant window. Then he departed.

To ask such a man for money was not easy. I dressed myself and marched
in great haste to the gay quarter of the town, having made up my mind
to depend on the mercies of the chief jeweler and the merits of my
Poitevin watch. It had cost a thousand francs, and would surely, after
many a service rendered, help me now to regain my home.

Another disappointment--not a pawn-broker to be found in Carlsruhe!
I was ready to look upon myself as a fixture in the town, when a
brilliant idea flashed upon me. One of my neighbors at table was
transportation-agent at the railway depot. What so opportune for me
as a credit on the railway company? With his recommendation my watch
would surely be security enough.

Delighted with the thought, and with my own cleverness in originating
it, I made briskly for the Ettlingen Gate, before which the road
passes. Glancing at the clock on the depot, I regulated first my watch
by the time of the place, in order that no doubt might be cast on its
perfect regularity. I was holding it in my hand, my eyes still riveted
on the great clock, as I stepped over the nearest rails. A shout,
mixed with imprecations, was audible. My coat was seized by a vigorous
fist