first awakened by the voice of the knight, who stood by his side inviting him to breakfast, which was ready. Francis sprung out of bed, dressed himself, and descended (since he found he could not help himself) into the room where the knight was waiting to take breakfast with him. On the table were spread delicious Westphalia hams, smoked tongues, white bread, and pumpernickel, (a sort of coarse black bread) fine old Rhenish wines, and others of a more generous quality. Without waiting for much pressing, he fell to, and made an excellent breakfast.
When he had eaten his fill, he had his nag saddled and led out. And now he expected, every moment, the threatened leave-taking. In order to have as much as he could, by way of compensation for his anticipated thrashing, he said to the knight, “Will you allow me to take from what remains of our repast, something to refresh me on my journey?” “With great pleasure,” replied the knight, and immediately began himself to help Francis, in cramming his pockets as full as they could hold.
He was now ready to set off, and shaking the knight cordially by the hand, thanked him warmly for the hospitable reception he had experienced, and descended into the court-yard. The knight, wishing him a pleasant journey, accompanied him thither; and the servants were all in waiting, eager to perform what little remaining services he might require. Francis mounted his horse, and rode slowly through the castle gates, wondering greatly that he was allowed to take his leave thus, without submitting to the customary ordeal. The knight stood with his servants at the gate, looked after Francis, and made some observations upon his horse; for he was a great lover of horses, and an excellent judge of them. Still fearful, however, that perhaps they might bring him back, and make him pay his reckoning on his well-belaboured shoulders, he looked frequently behind with trembling. But when he had got a considerable istance, he turned his horse’s head (for he could no longer restrain his curiosity), and riding back thus addressed the knight:
“With your permission, sir knight, I would fain ask you a question. The man who directed me here, and who praised your hospitality, told me in addition, that you were accustomed, when your guests took their departure, to thrash them till they were black and blue; and yet you have allowed me to depart freely. Has then the fellow told me a falsehood? If so, I will go and punish him. Or, if you have made an exception in my favour, may I ask wherefore?”
“You were told no falsehood,” answered the knight. “In the same way that I received and entertained you, so do I receive and entertain every stranger who visits me. But there are now and then fools, who with their intended compliments and over politeness sicken me almost to death: affected idiots, who would have you believe, forsooth, they feel neither hunger nor thirst, when they are absolutely tormented with both, and who must be entreated and persuaded, every mouthful they eat, and every drop they drink. Such men make me so enraged at last, that I take my staff and cudgel them out of my house. But a man of your sort is always a welcome guest. You spoke plainly and roundly your mind, as the Bremen folks always do. Call here again without fear, if your road should lie this way, on your return, and so God speed you!”
Francis now pursued his journey to Antwerp, with a cheerful mind, and he reached that city without meeting with any particular adventures by the way. At the inn where he alighted, he inquired of the landlord respecting the merchants who were his father’s debtors, asking whether they were yet living, and in what circumstances they were?—“Oh,” said mine host, “they are rich men now, and count among the principal persons of the city.” This intelligence delighted Francis, who began to congratulate himself upon the certain success of his plans. On the following morning he set forth early, and called upon the debtor against whom he had the largest claim. He stated his case, urged his own misfortunes as pathetically as he could, and finished by entreating that he would at least pay some portion of what was owing, on account.
The man elevated his eyes, pursed his forehead into wrinkles, and with an angry air demanded “how he dared to talk of a debt, after every thing had been duly settled with his father, who was
