"Shipwrecked sailors, Madame—who else!" replied Reinhold.
"Farewell, my Reinhold," said Else; and then with her arms around his neck, half laughing, half crying—"Take six men again who know their business!"
"And promise me," said Reinhold, "that the carriage shall not go down from the village to the castle unless you can see the road clearly through the hollow when you are on the height!"
The ladies had gone; Reinhold prepared for his second trip. It was not really his duty—any more than it had been in the morning; but none of the sailors—even the best of them—quite understood how to manage the new life-boat.
The two people on the Dune—he did not wish to tell Else about it—were certainly not shipwrecked, because a ship, if stranded, would have long since been signaled from the Hook. They could hardly be from Pölitz's house, although that was nearby, because Mrs. Rickmann had told him, when he went to change his clothes, that Pölitz had sent back word by the messenger that he was dispatching little Ernst and the men with the stock to Warnow; that he himself could not leave, nor could Marie, and least of all his wife, who during the night had given birth to a boy; and that it probably wouldn't be very bad, after all.
But now it had become serious, very serious; and even though the chief pilot, Bonsak, might have exaggerated a little, as he sometimes did on such occasions, in any case, there was peril—peril for the poor Pölitz family, whom the most sacred duties confined to the house; greater peril for the two of whom he knew nothing except that they were people who must be lost unless he rescued them.
In the great bar-room of the inn at Warnow, filled with the smoke of bad tobacco and the foul odor of spilt beer and brandy, were the boisterous carters who had come that morning, and a few cattle traders who had joined them in the course of the afternoon, and who were now bent upon remaining. The innkeeper stood near them, trimming the tallow candles, and was talking more boisterously than his guests, for he must know better than anybody else whether a railroad direct from Golm past Wissow Hook to Ahlbeck, rather than by way of Warnow, was nonsense or not. And the Count, who had ridden out himself in the afternoon, would open his eyes when he saw the fine kettle of fish; but if one is determined not to hear, he must learn to feel. In Ahlbeck there is said to be a horrible state of things, and murder and slaughter, too; that didn't matter to the Ahlbeckers; they had lately put on airs enough with their shore railroad station, naval post. Now they would have to creep back into their hole again!
The innkeeper spoke so loud and heatedly that he did not see his wife come in and take the keys of the guest-chamber from the board by the door, while the maid took the two brass candle-sticks out of the wall cupboard, put two candles in them, lighted them, and followed her mistress. He did not turn around until some one tapped him on the shoulder and asked him where he should put his horses; the servant had said there was no more room.
"And there isn't any," said the innkeeper. "Where did you come from?"