“Well,” said I, at last, and wishing to lead him back to his story, “and after being made inspector—”
“You can speak German well,” said he, totally inattentive to my question; “just ask one of these people when there will be any conveyance from this to Ragatz.”
“Ragatz, of all places!” exclaimed I.
“Yes; they tell me it's good for the rheumatics, and I have got some old shoulder pains I 'd like to shake off before winter. And then this sprain, too; I foresee I shall not be able to walk much for some days to come.”
“Ragatz is on my road; I am about to cross the Splugen into Italy; I'll bear you company so far, if you have no objection.”
“Well, it may not seem civil to say it, but I have an objection,” said he, rising from the table. “When I've got weighty things on my mind, I 've a bad habit of talking of them to myself aloud. I can't help it, and so I keep strictly alone till my plans are all fixed and settled; after that, there's no danger of my revealing them to any one. There now, you have my reason, and you 'll not dispute that it's a good one.”
“You may not be too distrustful of yourself,” said I, laughing, “but, assuredly, you are far too flattering in your estimate of my acuteness.”
“I'll not risk it,” said he, bluntly, as he sought for his hat.
“Wait a moment,” said I. “You told me at Constance that you were in want of money; at the time I was not exactly in funds myself. Yesterday, however, I received a remittance; and if ten or twenty pounds be of any service, they are heartily at your disposal.”
He looked at me fixedly, almost sternly, for a minute or two, and then said,—