My Hungarian comrade now again saw my agitation and, moreover, the cause of it.
"Oh! was it she that you saw yesterday?" he cried out in French when the girl had passed. "Then I comprehend your dumbfoundedness."
"Do you know her?" I asked.
"Certainly, she is one of the sights of the town. All the strangers know her."
"Is this her home?"
"Of course! and not to the loss of the hotel-keeper. She's his daughter or his adopted daughter. But not interesting to me, because notoriously unapproachable."
"What's her name?"
"Elsie - Elsie van Vianen, or Elsje as they say here."
On our prosperous homeward voyage over the sunny sea I was even more quiet and even merrier than the night before.