send any one to town, he does not come back till the next day, and what he brings is seldom fit to use. I fear that our guest cannot endure our hospitality very long.”
“Give yourself no trouble in that respect,” indifferently replied the harper, still gazing at the old ruin. “I shall ask for nothing uncommon. I shall be satisfied with the simplest kind of food, and will need no care. I wish nothing more than peace and rest; do you understand? Peace and rest! Do not notice me, do not spy when I take a walk or a ride, do not come to me with any news, and ask none of me—in short, act as if I were not here. In that way you will please me most. Do not mention my name in the presence of strangers, and admit no one to me under any pretext whatever.”
To the stewardess it seemed that even Count Felsenburk could not have expressed his wish more precisely and briefly than the harper had done.
“It would have been just as the young gentleman wishes even if he had not asked it,”
