It was intricate and delicate, and difficult withal. I began by remarking on the weather, but he did not take my remarks kindly. I am inclined to fancy that he thought I was desirous of borrowing money from him. At any rate he gave me no encouragement in my first advances.
“Vat misfortune?” at last he asked, when I had succeeded in making him understand that a gentleman up stairs required his assistance.
“He has lost these things,” and I took hold of my own garments. “It’s a long story, or I’d tell you how; but he has not a pair in the world till he gets back to Brussels,—unless you can lend him one.”
“Lost hees br-?” and he opened his eyes wide, and looked at me with astonishment.
“Yes, yes, exactly so,” said I, interrupting him. “Most astonishing thing, isn’t it? But it’s quite true.”
“Vas hees money in de pocket?” asked my auspicious landlord.
“No, no, no. It’s not so bad as that, his money is all right. I had the money, luckily.”
“Ah! dat is better. But he have lost hees b-?”
“Yes, yes;” I was now getting rather impatient. “There is no mistake about it. He has lost them as sure as you stand there.” And then I proceeded to explain that as the gentleman in question was very stout, and as he, the landlord, was stout also, he might assist us in this great calamity by a loan from his own wardrobe.
When he found that the money was not in the pocket, and that his bill therefore would be paid, he was not indisposed to be gracious. He would, he said, desire his servant to take up what was required to Mr. Horne’s chamber. I endeavoured to make him understand that a sombre colour would be preferable; but he only answered that he would put the best that he had at the gentleman’s disposal. He could not think of offering anything less than his best on such an occasion. And then he turned his back and went his way, muttering as he went something in Flemish, which I believed to be an exclamation of astonishment that any man should, under any circumstances, lose such an article.