Chapter Thirteen.
Shews what Sometimes Happens in the Track of Troops.
“Why, Nicholas,” I exclaimed, looking round the inn, “I have been here before. It is—it must be—the very place where, on my way up, I saw a famous wrestling-match. Did I ever tell you about it?”
“Never; but come along, I must finish one part of my duty here without delay by paying a visit. You can tell me about the wrestling-match as we walk together.”
I described the match with great interest, for my heart warmed towards the chief actor and his family, and as I proceeded with the narration I observed with some satisfaction that the road we were following led in the direction of the cottage of Dobri Petroff. As we drew near to the path that diverged to it I resolved, if possible, to give Nicholas, who was evidently interested in my narrative, a surprise by confronting him unexpectedly with the blacksmith and his family.
“Nicholas,” I said, “you see that cottage on the hillside? I have a great desire to pay its inmates a visit. Have you any objection to turn aside just for a few minutes?”
Nicholas gave me a look of surprise and laughed.
“None in the world, Jeff, for it happens that I particularly wish to visit the cottage myself.”
“You do? Why—what—”
“Well, finish your question, Jeff; why should it seem strange to you that I want to visit a Bulgarian family?”