Marseilles or Genoa; but then comes the difficulty,
and I shall need about ten pounds to get
to Malta. Could you lend me ten pounds?"

"Really, sir," said I, coolly, I am amazed at
the innocence with which you can make such a
demand on the man whom you have, only a few
minutes back, so acutely depicted as an adventurer."

"It was for that very reason I thought of
applying to you. Had you been a young fellow of
a certain fortune, you'd have naturally been a
stranger to the accidents which now and then
leave men penniless in out-of-the way places, and
it's just as likely that the first thought in your
head would be, 'Oh, he's a swindler. Why hasn't
he his letters of credit or his circular notes?'
But, being exactly what I take you for, the
chances are you'll say: 'What has befallen him
to-day may chance to me to-morrow. Who can
tell the day and the hour some mishap may not
overtake him? and so I'll just help him through
it.'"

"And that was your calculation?"

"That was my calculation."

"How sorry I feel to wound the marvellous
gift you seem to possess of interpreting
character. I am really shocked to think that for
this time, at least, your acuteness is at fault."

"Which means that you'll not do it?"

I smiled a benign assent.

He looked at me for a minute or more with a
sort of blank incredulity, and then, crossing his
arms on his breast, moved slowly down the walk
without speaking.

I cannot say how I detested this man; he had
offended me in the very sorest part of all my
nature; he had wounded the nicest susceptibility
I possessed; of the pleasant fancies wherewith I
loved to clothe myself he would not leave me
enough to cover my nakedness; and yet, now
that I had resented his cool impertinence, I hated
myself far more than I hated him. Dignity and
sarcasm, forsooth! What a fine opportunity to
display them, truly! The man might be rude and
underbred; he was rude and underbred; and was
that any justification for my conduct towards him?
Why had I not had the candour to say, "Here's
all I possess in the world; you see yourself that
I cannot lend you ten pounds." How I wished
I had said that, and how I wished, even more
ardently still, that I had never met him, never
interchanged speech with him!

"And why is it that I am offended with him—
simply because he has discovered that I am
Potts?" Now, these reflections were all the more
bitter, since it was only twenty-four hours before
that I had resolved to throw off delusion either
of myself or others; that I would take my place
in the ranks, and fight out my battle of life, a
mere soldier. For this it was that I made
companionship with Vaterchen, walking the high
road with that poor old man of motley, and
actually speculating— in a sort of artistic way—
whether I should not make love to Tintefleck?
And if I were sincere in all this, how should I
feel wounded by the honest candour of that plain-
spoken fellow? He wanted a favour at my
hands, he owned this; and yet, instead of ap-
proaching me with flattery, he at once assails
the very stronghold of my self-esteem, and says,
"No humbug, Potts; at least, none with me!"
He opens acquaintance with me on that masonic
principle by which the brotherhood of Poverty is
maintained throughout all lands and all peoples,
and whose great maxim is, "He who lends to the
poor man, borrows from the ragged man."

"I'll go after him at once," said I, aloud.
"I'll have more talk with him. I'm much
mistaken if there's not good stuff in that rugged
nature."

When I re-entered the little inn, I found Vaterchen
fast asleep; he had finished off every flask
on the table, and lay breathing stentoriously, and
giving a long-drawn whistle in his snore, that
smacked almost of apoplexy. Tintefleck wasi
singing to her guitar before a select audience of
the inn servants, and Harpar was gone!

I gave the girl a glance of rebuke and displeasure.
I aroused the old man with a kick, and
imperiously demanded my bill.

"The bill has been paid by the other stranger,"
said the landlord; "he has settled everything,
and left a 'trenkgeld' for the servants, so that
you have nothing to pay."

I could have almost cried with spite as I heard
these words. It would have been a rare solace
to my feelings if I could have put that man clown
for a rogue, and then been able to say to myself
how cleverly I had escaped the snares of a
swindler. But to know now that he was not
only honest but liberal, and to think, besides, that
I had been his guest— eaten of his salt— it was
more than I well could endure.

"Which way did he take?" asked I.

"Round the head of the lake for Lindau. I
told him that the steamer would take him there
to-morrow for a trifle, but he would not wait."

"Ah me!" sighed Vaterchen, but half awake,
and with one eye still closed, "and we are going
to St. Gallen."

"Who said so?" cried I, imperiously. "We
are going to Lindau; at least, if I be the person
who gives orders here. Follow!" And as I spoke,
I marched proudly on, while a slipshod, shuffling
noise of feet, and a low, half-smothered sob, told
me that they were coming after me.

Now ready, price Six Shillings, the Second Edition
                                   of
       THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER
                 BY CHARLES DICKENS.
    London: 26, Wellington-street, Strand, W.C.;
and CHAPMAN and HALL, 193, Piccadilly, W.