Following my host’s directions, who marvelled greatly at our eccentricity that we should leave a warm stove door and good cheer from mere travellers’ curiosity on such a day, we pattered forth through the town again—through streets yet more ghost-like in their daylight emptiness than they had seemed yestereven; pattered once more across the wood of the bridge beneath which the sullen waters ran, without appearing to run, as grey and leaden as the heavens above.
And after two hours’ dreary tramp along a poplar-bordered, deserted road, we saw before us the gilded iron gateway of Ottilienruhe. Beyond there was a vision of French gardens; of bowling-greens all drenched; of flat terraces whereon the yews, fantastically cut, stood about like the pieces of a chessboard. Beyond that again rose the odd Grecian porticos and colonnades, the Chinese cupolas, appertaining to the summer pleasaunce of the reigning house.
It might have looked fair enough under bright skies in summer weather, with roses on the empty beds and sunshine on the little yellow spires; but it seemed a most desolate place as it lay beneath my eyes that noon. I told myself I should find sunshine enough within, yet my heart lay heavy in my breast.
A sentry, with his pointed fur cap drawn down over his eyes, with the collar of his great-coat drawn up above his ears, so that of his countenance only the end of a red nose was visible to the world, marched up and down before the gates, and, as we made ready to halt, challenged us roughly.
At the sound of his call two more sentries appeared at different points, and tramped towards us with suspicion in their bearing.
Evidently the Duke was well guarded. I rode a few steps forward, when, to my astonishment, it being full peace-time, the fellow brought his musket to the ready, and again cautioned me to pass on my way.
“But my way is to the palace,” I bawled to him defiantly, despite the consciousness that the doubtful impression I must myself create could not be mitigated by the sight of János behind me. For I am bound to say that in the plain garb I had insisted on his donning, now much disordered, as I have said, by our travels, with the natural grimness of his countenance enhanced by a screw of pain, a more truculent-looking ruffian it would have been hard to find.
But so far I did not anticipate any more serious difficulty than what a few arguments could remove: and I carried a heavy purse. So I added boldly:
“I have business at the palace.”
The man lowered his weapon and came a step nearer.