but now, when the hour of reckoning had arrived, the traveller’s appetite was gone. The host endeavoured to encourage him. “Why do you not get to? Come, take somewhat for the raw foggy morning.”
“Herr Ritter,” answered Franz, “my stomach is still too full of your supper; but my pockets are empty; these I may fill for the hunger that is to come.”
With this he began stoutly cramming, and stowed himself with the daintiest and best that was transportable, till all his pockets were bursting. Then, observing that his horse, well curried and equipt, was led past, he took a dram of Dantzig for good-b’ye, in the thought that this would be the watch-word for his host to catch him by the neck, and exercise his household privileges.
But, to his astonishment, the Ritter shook him kindly by the hand, as at his first entrance, wished him luck by the way, and the bolted door was thrown open. He loitered not in putting spurs to his nag; and, tip! tap! he was without the gate, and no hair of him harmed.
A heavy stone was lifted from his heart, as he found himself in safety, and saw that he had got away with a whole skin. He could not understand how the landlord had trusted him the shot, which, as he imagined, must have run pretty high on the chalk: and he embraced with warm love the hospitable man, whose club-law arm he had so much dreaded; and he felt a strong desire to search out, at the fountain-head, the reason or unreason of the ill report which had affrighted him. Accordingly he turned his horse, and cantered back. The Knight was still standing in the gate, and descanting with his servants, for the forwarding of the science of horse-flesh, on the breed, shape and character of the nag, and his hard pace: he supposed the stranger must have missed something in his travelling gear, and he already looked askance at his servants for such negligence.
“What is it, young master,” cried he, “that makes you turn again, when you were for proceeding?”
“Ah! yet a word, valiant Knight,” cried the traveller. “An ill report has gone abroad, that injures your name and breeding. It is said that you treat every stranger that calls upon you with your best; and then, when he leaves you, let
