"From Neuenfähr; the guests whom I brought are already upstairs."
"Who are the guests?" asked the innkeeper.
"Don't know. A young gentleman and a lady—persons of quality I think. I couldn't drive fast enough for them; how is one to drive fast in such weather, step by step, two mares or one—it didn't matter! A one-horse rig that came up behind me could have passed me very easily; it must have been somebody from Warnow; he turned off to the right before reaching the village."
"Jochen Katzenow was in Neuenfähr this morning," said the innkeeper; "he has a devil of a mare! Now come along; we will see; don't believe it is possible."
The man from Neuenfähr followed the innkeeper into the court, where they met the gentleman whom he had brought. The gentleman took the innkeeper aside and spoke to him in a low tone.
"That may take some time," thought the man from Neuenfähr. He went out of the door, unhitched his horses from the carriage, led them under the protecting roof of a shed, where they were protected from the worst of the storm, and left the carriage, a light, open Holsteiner, standing outside.
He had just thrown the blankets over the steaming horses, when the gentleman stepped out of the house and came up to him.
"It is possible that I shall not remain here long," said the gentleman; "perhaps only an hour. We shall then go on."
"Whither, sir?"