We dreaded lest there should be an examination of travellers, and an inspection of passports, so near to the frontier garrison; but in vain did we sound the hatter on the subject.
One o’clock arrived; the ferryman approached, but he was accompanied by a soldier, with an immense feather, which waved so terrifically in the air that it seemed ominous of our capture and subsequent fate. We dared not ask the hatter another question, lest it should create suspicions, and although we had time to make any escape, we reflected that we had no other means of crossing the river. In fact, we were unsettled. We considered and reconsidered, resolved and abandoned our resolution. Consternation certainly prevailed over our councils, which ended in our agreeing to wander in the fields, and watch what might be the object of the soldier with his immense feather. The poet[29] has the line,
Pleased with a feather, tickled with a straw,
but never were men less pleased with a feather than I and my companions. We agreed that if this man made towards us, we were to separate in different directions, and thus try to baffle him; if he took the common high road, we were to conclude that he had not come across the river for our capture. We were in a great state of alarm. At length the boat touched the shore. The son of Mars, with the feather in his cocked-hat, jumped out of the boat. Every eye was upon him, and each of us had one leg in advance ready to fly his approach, when, to our inexpressible joy, he did not condescend to look upon us, but pursued his course towards the high road. Never was contempt more welcome to the disregarded or despised. We got into the ferry-boat with the hatter, and landed on the opposite banks.
The fare was a mere trifle. We had to change a florin, and, although we would willingly have paid five times the sum, if we could have afforded it, to get clear off, we waited to have our change regularly made out, which took some time, as the pieces were so difficult to be comprehended, and the ferry-man had to borrow a part from the hatter. But we dreaded, if we had not been thus particular, they might have suspected that all was not right, and given information at the garrison. Matters being arranged, we continued our route carelessly, until we were out of sight of the fortress; then we pushed on as fast as we possibly could, to make up for the delay of the ferry.
About seven o’clock in the evening we halted at a very convenient house on the roadside; got beds and supper; and at daylight recommenced our walk. We were now on the high road to Reichenhall, the last Bavarian town we should have to pass. Each of us was in excellent spirits, and almost confident of getting clear, from the success that had lately attended us. We exerted all our force to get as soon as possible into the Austrian territories, and walked at least twelve leagues this day, till, being very much fatigued, we agreed to proceed to a village on the borders of the lake of Kempsee, and to stop there for the night. We soon made out a public-house; got supper, and retired to bed. The people were civil, and not at all inquisitive.
We rose early and pursued our journey. We met several people, but none, to our joy, seemed to possess the slightest spirit of curiosity. We found out that we were still three leagues from Reichenhall. We advanced apace, but with precaution, knowing how particular they generally are on the frontiers. We also agreed, if we could get immediately safe into Austria, to avoid Saltzburg altogether, and make directly for Trieste. Barklimore was becoming exhausted. The roads were rough and dreary, and not a village or human dwelling was to be seen, even to the utmost verge of the horizon. As we drew near to Reichenhall, we overtook two waggons, and prevailed upon one of the waggoners to give a lift to our lame and disabled companion. Never was an arrangement more fortunate, for no sooner had he got accommodated in the waggon than two Bavarian gendarmes came in view. Hewson and myself sought concealment on the other side of the road, and thus did we escape detection.
For several days past I had observed that all the notices and directions on the roadside were both in German and in French. The road we were travelling was quite new, and it appeared that it had been made since the battle of Austerlitz, in order to facilitate the future entry of the French into the Austrian dominions. It was on a magnificent scale, and must have cost immense sums, being cut through stupendous rocks and mountains. It was the finest military road I had ever beheld, and evinced the gigantic project that Napoleon must have had in contemplation.[30]
We were apparently within two miles of the town, and we begged the waggoner to let our friend descend. The too good-natured fellow offered to carry him into the town, and we were obliged to pretend that we had some idea of stopping at a friend’s house in the neighbourhood. A friend’s house in the neighbourhood!—never were poor beings more friendless or more unacquainted with a neighbourhood.
We were now at our wits’ ends, and it was too late to even attempt to make a circuit of the town, in order to smuggle ourselves into the Austrian territories, which must be at least four or five miles off. The surrounding mountains seemed calculated to baffle the most experienced traveller in any effort to get through their passes by night, or even by day; and what could be done by poor ignorant and forlorn fugitives like us?