The German made a gesture of contempt.
"Heine, a Jew!" said he in a low voice.
The Dane alone heard him, and leaning towards his companion added, in an undertone, "I fear you will soon be obliged to seek your future where Heine saw it." Then lower still he pronounced this word, a title in one of Heine's works,--"Hammonia!"
After a short colloquy the two men evidently came to an amicable understanding, for they shook hands.
The menu for the principal meal at the Albergo della Grotto was as follows: First a thick brodo, a soup that alone with Italians supersedes their beloved macaroni. Then a dish of fried fish and one of stewed meat; that, to say the least, was a little suspicious, for it had come from Genoa in the heat of the day, and was certainly somewhat fatigued by the journey. Afterward a roast, then cheese and fruit.
The Dane grumbled, and said that the cooking was unworthy of the least of scullions; but the travellers were hungry, and they excused many shortcomings.
The Pole had overcome his embarrassment and ate with evident enjoyment, although he feared that his new friends would divine his long fast. His companion was not hungry, for he had eaten at Cogoletto. The unfortunate young man considered this meal a Godsend, for he was saving his last sou to return home. Having lost confidence in "human fraternity," he relied only on his own strength and economy.
"Am I permitted to ask where you are going?" said the lady, looking around the tables.
"As for me," said the one whom she had succoured, "I go, or rather return, to Poland. It is two years since I left it, and I return impelled by suffering and hope. Aged by my trials, I have left on the way all my illusions."
"I also return to Poland," added the Jew. "I consider it my country. Permit me to call it thus, for I love it, and that gives me the right."