"Tea or silk," muttered he; "if it were wine, brandy, or salt, he would have ordered the wagons."
"To be sure, he would then have ordered the wagons," I repeated, as if this were a mere matter of course. "And when do you expect him back? He told me to-night that he could not possibly determine."
"Most likely to-morrow; but I will open the great door anyhow, as we cannot be certain."
"Of course we cannot be certain," I said. The old man had arisen and taken up his lantern, and I arose also.
We kept on, and came into another space filled with the scent of wine, where casks were piled on casks, as the old man showed me by holding up his lantern as high as he could reach.
"This all lies here from last year," he said.
"Yes," I answered, repeating what Granow had said; "the business is bad just now; the people in Uselin have grown shy since so many have taken to dabbling in it."
The old man, who was taciturnity itself, did not answer, but it seemed that I had attained my aim of gaining his confidence. He nodded and muttered an assent to my words, as he shuffled along.
The cellar seemed to have no end; but at last Christian stopped and placed the lantern upon the ground. Before us was a broad staircase, above which was an apparatus of strong beams, such as is used for lowering casks and heavy boxes. The staircase was closed above by a large and massive trap-door, covered with plates of iron, and secured by immense bolts. These the old man pushed back with my help.
"So," said he, "now they can come whenever they please.