AT MUNICH
When we started for Munich it required very little observation to see that von Nauheim was striving sedulously to conceal the fact that he attached such critical importance to my accompanying him. Indeed, had I had no prior knowledge of him, I think his demeanor would have roused my suspicions.
"I suppose you will tell me what passed between you and Minna yesterday," he said when we were in the train. "You've produced a considerable change in her, for I found her much more willing to go on with us than she was before."
"I gave her to understand that very much must depend on the result of this journey. If I am satisfied that there is reason to hope for success, it will be at least an impartial opinion—for at present I have not much faith. And I suppose she attaches a great deal of importance to that."
"Did you urge her not to throw us over? I presume you did."
"Why should I? I am not convinced myself."
"Well, here are signs enough of the popular indignation, at any rate," he said as he tossed me a morning paper with some very strong comments on the lunatic King's acts.
"Discontent is one thing, rebellion another," I replied as I opened the paper to read what he pointed out. I had no wish to talk, but to think, and I made as though I were engrossed in the paper.
My companion took another journal and played at reading it; but I saw him watching me every now and then, until the paper fell on his lap, and he stared out of the window obviously buried in his thoughts. I knew the tenor of them later when his face changed, and he turned to speak.
"You will stay with me, of course, Prince?" he said.