"The gendarme will come."
"Let him come. He will find at least one honest man under your roof."
The hostess came forward and put in her word: the company present, who were topping-off their three hours' potation of Einfach with a glass of Schnaps, ceased their conversation, and put in theirs:
"Wi' tippenny we fear nae evil,
"Wi' usquebaugh we'll face the devil."
the Kellnerinn waiting all the while with my bed-candle in her hand. Every one, except the serving-maid, who held her peace, sided with the landlord.
I urged the same reply over and over again, that not having been asked at any other Wirthshaus to yield possession of my passport for a night, I could not believe that any regulation to the contrary prevailed for Przichowitz.
At length the company, as it appeared, having exhausted their suggestions, the landlord fetched his book, and had dipped a pen into the inkstand, when two soldiers, who were eating a supper of sausage, brown bread and onions, at a table apart, beckoned him, and whispered something in his ear.
The whisper revived his suspicions, and would have renewed the altercation; but I took up my knapsack, asked what was to pay, and declared for a moonlight walk to Rochlitz.
The demonstration made him pause: he opened the book, dipped the pen once more into the inkstand, and looked wonderingly at my passport, which I held open before him. He tried to spell it out; but in vain. The pen went into the inkstand again; but to no purpose. He was completely bothered; and at last, putting the pen in my hand, he said, not now in a peremptory tone—"Will you enter your own name, if I let you do it?"