Then we buried the tea-basket in a ditch, in a bed of long grass and cow-parsley, for it was plain that I could not ask Gertrud, who could hardly walk as it was, to carry it, and it was equally plain that I could not carry it myself, for it was as mysteriously heavy as other tea-baskets and in size very nearly as big as I am. So we buried it, not without some natural regrets and a dim feeling that we were flying in the face of Providence, and there it is, I suppose, grown very rusty, to this day.
After that Gertrud got along a little better, and my thoughts being no longer concentrated on food I could think out what was best to be done. The result was that on reaching Casnewitz we inquired at once which of the cottages was an inn, and having found one asked a man who seemed to belong there to let us have a conveyance with as much speed as possible.
'Where have you come from?' he inquired, staring first at one and then at the other.
'Oh—from Garz.'
'From Garz? Where do you want to go to?'
'To Putbus.'
'To Putbus? Are you staying there?'
'No—yes—anyhow we wish to drive there. Kindly let us start as soon as possible.'
'Start! I have no cart.'
'Sir,' said Gertrud with much dignity, 'why did you not say so at once?'