"A pleasant evening, mein Herr!"
I turned, and found the priest at my elbow. He had come noiselessly across the grass, and was standing between me and the sunset, like a shadow.
"I—I beg your pardon," I stammered, moving away from the gate. "I was looking—"
I stopped in some surprise, and indeed with some sense of relief, for it was not the same priest that I had seen in the morning. No two, indeed, could well be more unlike, for this man was small, white-haired, gentle-looking, with a soft, sad smile inexpressibly sweet and winning.
"You were looking at my arbutus?" he said.
I had scarcely observed the arbutus till now, but I bowed and said something to the effect that it was an unusually fine tree.
"Yes," he replied; "but I have a rhododendron round at the front that is still finer. Will you come in and see it?"
I said I should be pleased to do so. He led the way, and I followed.
"I hope you like this part of our Rhine-country?" he said, as we took the path through the shrubbery.
"I like it so well," I replied, "that if I were to live anywhere on the banks of the Rhine, I should certainly choose some spot on the Upper Rhine between Schaffhausen and Basle."