“Going out of town?” he said. “Is it certain?”
“Quite certain,” I replied; “I shall be leaving to-morrow morning.”
“Where to?”
“Humph—a short trip to the country—to visit some relatives.”
“For how long?” he queried further.
“That depends; two or three days at the most.” It was really strange that he should be so inquisitive—and withal there was a peculiar look in his eyes. “He can’t know?” I asked myself involuntarily, but I did not complete my sentence. “That is all nonsense,” I said to myself; “he doesn’t even know anything about the novel—how could he guess anything?” Indeed, he seemed quite satisfied at last, and when I had left them all I walked home with the consciousness that things were going finely.
“Are you the gentleman?” asked a deep, grumbling voice, when in the grey dawn of morning I entered the yard next morning.
Without breakfast, for I had not wished to betray myself to my landlady, with a false beard on my face and a wig on my head, and an enormous pair of horn spectacles on my nose—my feelings can readily be imagined. And with all that I felt it incumbent upon me to feign a cheerful manner to keep Gustav—for I judged him to be the possessor of the bass voice—in good spirits.
“The weather will be gorgeous to-day,” I said, apparently in the best of humour, while my teeth were chattering with cold. Gustav grunted like a bear disturbed in his winter’s sleep.
“Can I put on the things?” I asked.