same time he pointed to a little mound situated in the middle of a
meadow and a few steps from a brook. I assented eagerly, and although
the driver remained on the highroad with my travelling companions, I
soon recognised the spot indicated, by means of some relics of cypress
branches, immortelles, and forget-me-nots scattered upon the earth. It
will readily be understood that this sight, instead of diminishing my
desire for information, increased it. I was feeling, then, more than
ever dissatisfied at going away, knowing so little, when I saw a man
of some five-and-forty to fifty years old, who was walking a little
distance from the place where I myself was, and who, guessing the cause
that drew me thither, was looking at me with curiosity. I determined
to make a last effort, and going up to him, I said, "Oh, sir, I am a
stranger; I am travelling to collect all the rich and poetic traditions
of your Germany. By the way in which you look at me, I guess that you
know which of them attracts me to this meadow. Could you give me any
information about the life and death of Sand?"

"With what object, sir?" the person to whom I spoke asked me in almost
unintelligible French.

"With a very German object, be assured, sir," I replied. "From the
little I have learned, Sand seems to me to be one of those ghosts that
appear only the greater and the more poetic for being wrapped in a
shroud stained with blood. But he is not known in France; he might be
put on the same level there with a Fieschi or a Meunier, and I wish, to
the best of my ability, to enlighten the minds of my countrymen about
him."

"It would be a great pleasure to me, sir, to assist in such an
undertaking; but you see that I can scarcely speak French; you do not
speak German at all; so that we shall find it difficult to understand
each other."

"If that is all," I returned, "I have in my carriage yonder an
interpreter, or rather an interpretress, with whom you will, I hope, be
quite satisfied, who speaks German like Goethe, and to whom, when you
have once begun to speak to her, I defy you not to tell everything."

"Let us go, then, sir," answered the pedestrian. "I ask no better than
to be agreeable to you."

We walked toward the carriage, which was still waiting on the highroad,
and I presented to my travelling companion the new recruit whom I had
just gained. The usual greetings were exchanged, and the dialogue began
in the purest Saxon. Though I did not und