we were bound; but at last, after many inquiries,
we hit upon a direct route.

In the Black Forest we came to a wine-house,
and were startled at seeing a number of carbines
hanging up belonging to the forest guard. For
fear of exciting suspicion, we did not retreat,
but stayed and took a meal, though we observed
on the wall a decree of Napoleon ordering the
Baden people to arrest all persons travelling
without passports.

At night we stopped at a small village, and
a Frenchman, who took us for countrymen,
obtained us beds, but, to our great disappointment,
they were German cushion-beds, and the
heat of the feathers kept us awake nearly all
night. In the morning we told the Frenchman
what we were, and, as he saw us out of the
village, he warned us that it was safer passing as
Englishmen than Frenchmen, as his countrymen
were hated in Germany. He advised us to
avoid the Wurtemberg main roads, as they were
infested by the landwehr, who stopped travellers
who had no passports. At a house, where some
peasants in their best clothes were merry-making
(for it was Sunday), we obtained a guide, who
led us across the frontier into Wurtemberg.
After a walk of six miles, he took us to the
house of a friend, a good-natured jocose fellow,
with whom we were soon at home. He brought
out plenty of wine, and, not understanding us
clearly, sent for a lively French lad. We told him
we were going to join the French army at Ulm,
and wanted to know the shortest way. He at
first wanted to go to the mayor of the village
for a guide, but eventually, at our request,
obtained a map for us, to mark down the
villages, by which we might avoid the great
military road; for we knew that we were only a
few days in advance of the French army that
was advancing to attack Austria.

Next night we slept at the house of a fine
open-hearted Frenchman, to whom we at once
told our secret. He told us we were quite right
to pass as his countrymen, for the peasants,
we should find, would be civil to us through
fear. And this we found to be true, for we were
never asked what we were, or whence we came.
Here we had our shirts washed for the first
and last time during our journey. On parting,
the Frenchman gave us certificates, such as the
itinerant German mechanics use, but we had no
faith in them, and when we got out of sight of
him threw them away.

Our next guide promised to lead us round a
town, but we got into a lane whose entrance
had been lately built up, and we were obliged
to clamber over a high wall, in sight of a
hundred windows. Fortunately it was raining
hard, and no one observed us. Next day, in
a heavy fall of snow, we crossed the Danube,
and then walked along the banks of the river
Iller, till we came near to Biberach.

We had now no retreat, for the river was on
one side of us and the mountain on the other.
Still, in despair, we pushed on, trembling, and
found a narrow carriage-road, that led round the
ramparts. Turning a corner, we saw a guardhouse
with its window staring full at us. A man
seeing us, came out and posted himself in the
middle of the road.

"This," said we, "is our last day's march;
this fellow is sure to stop us; but let us show
a good face and go boldly on."

We did so, walking in a careless dare-devil
way, and he did not say a word, though we
felt much inclined to run. In a little time we
came to an unguarded bridge, and crossed the
lller, and coming to the junction of two roads,
one leading to Augsburg and one to Memmingen,
chose the latter.

Alison's stamina now began to fail. The
once fat robust man, was now a scarecrow; his
coat hung loose upon him; his hat, soaked with
rain, drooped over his ears; his frame was bent
double; and he had to use a stick to support
himself. Innis and I, unable to bear his complaints
and piteous moans, generally kept a good
way before him. Often at twilight, when we drew
near a village, his haggard eyes brightened up,
and he would say:

"Now we have made an excellent day's
march. We must sleep here."

And as often we were pained to say:

"No, Alison, we must go on another stage."

Then his eyes would resume their languor,
and moaning he would droop behind. Happily
his sleep and appetite never forsook him; and
he always rallied in the morning. Otherwise, we
must have left the poor fellow to his fate, for
our funds would admit of no resting day.

Next day a woman refused us a lodging, for
fear of the landwehr, as we had no passports.
We slept at a small pot-house, and next morning
an honest German offered to guide us to
Memmingen. It was a fearful morning, the
snow coming down in large flakes, the cold
keen east wind cutting our faces till they bled.
We had to be our own pioneers. We could
hardly trace our way through the drifts, that
were sometimes up to our knees. Our German
was affable and friendly, and manifested no
curiosity. He would scarcely believe us when
we told him we were escaped English prisoners;
but when he was convinced, he declared we must
accompany him to his house at Kempten. But
at the post-house they warned us not to go there,
as the passes in the Tyrol were blocked with
snow, and they were strict about passports at
Memmingen.

The day we crossed the Wurtemberg frontier,
the cold had detained the gendarmes round the
fire (as we supposed), and we passed a long
covered bridge over the lller without hindrance.
A league further we saw the gates of Memmingen,
and here we had to experience the pain of
parting with our kind German. He pressed us
much to wait till he could get us food and
passports; but we tore ourselves away.

Avoiding Landsberg by walking across fields,
dangerously deep in snow, we crossed a river on
planks, and coasted Munich; and here Alison's
legs almost entirely failed. We supported him
for six weary miles, and then reached a village,
where we got comfortable lodgings, rubbed