第36章 CHAPTER XIV(1)

IT WAS with a sorry heart that I bade farewell to my Vienna friends, my musical comrades, the Legation hospitalities, and my faithful little Israelite. But the colt frisks over the pasture from sheer superfluity of energy; and between one's second and third decades instinctive restlessness - spontaneous movement - is the law of one's being. 'Tis then that 'Hope builds as fast as knowledge can destroy.' The enjoyment we abandon is never so sweet as that we seek.

'Pleasure never is at home.' Happiness means action for its own sake, change, incessant change.

I sought and found it in Bavaria, Bohemia, Russia, all over Germany, and dropped anchor one day in Cracow; a week afterwards in Warsaw. These were out-of-the-way places then; there were no tourists in those days; I did not meet a single compatriot either in the Polish or Russian town.

At Warsaw I had an adventure not unlike that which befell me at Vienna. The whole of Europe, remember, was in a state of political ferment. Poland was at least as ready to rise against its oppressor then as now; and the police was proportionately strict and arbitrary. An army corps was encamped on the right bank of the Vistula, ready for expected emergencies. Under these circumstances, passports, as may be supposed, were carefully inspected; except in those of British subjects, the person of the bearer was described - his height, the colour of his hair (if he had any), or any mark that distinguished him.

In my passport, after my name, was added 'ET SON DOMESTIQUE.'

The inspector who examined it at the frontier pointed to this, and, in indifferent German, asked me where that individual was. I replied that I had sent him with my baggage to Dresden, to await my arrival there. A consultation thereupon took place with another official, in a language I did not understand; and to my dismay I was informed that I was - in custody. The small portmanteau I had with me, together with my despatch-box, was seized; the latter contained a quantity of letters and my journal. Money only was I permitted to retain.

Quite by the way, but adding greatly to my discomfort, was the fact that since leaving Prague, where I had relinquished everything I could dispense with, I had had much night travelling amongst native passengers, who so valued cleanliness that they economised it with religious care. By the time I reached Warsaw, I may say, without metonymy, that I was itching (all over) for a bath and a change of linen.

My irritation, indeed, was at its height. But there was no appeal; and on my arrival I was haled before the authorities.

Again, their head was a general officer, though not the least like my portly friend at Vienna. His business was to sit in judgment upon delinquents such as I. He was a spare, austere man, surrounded by a sharp-looking aide-de-camp, several clerks in uniform, and two or three men in mufti, whom I took to be detectives. The inspector who arrested me was present with my open despatch-box and journal. The journal he handed to the aide, who began at once to look it through while his chief was disposing of another case.

To be suspected and dragged before this tribunal was, for the time being (as I afterwards learnt) almost tantamount to condemnation. As soon as the General had sentenced my predecessor, I was accosted as a self-convicted criminal.

Fortunately he spoke French like a Frenchman; and, as it presently appeared, a few words of English.

'What country do you belong to?' he asked, as if the question was but a matter of form, put for decency's sake - a mere prelude to committal.

'England, of course; you can see that by my passport.' I was determined to fence him with his own weapons. Indeed, in those innocent days of my youth, I enjoyed a genuine British contempt for foreigners - in the lump - which, after all, is about as impartial a sentiment as its converse, that one's own country is always in the wrong.

'Where did you get it?' (with a face of stone).

PRISONER (NAIVELY): 'Where did I get it? I do not follow you.' (Don't forget, please, that said prisoner's apparel was unvaleted, his hands unwashed, his linen unchanged, his hair unkempt, and his face unshaven).

GENERAL (stonily): '"Where did you get it?" was my question.'

PRISONER (quietly): 'From Lord Palmerston.'

GENERAL (glancing at that Minister's signature): 'It says here, "et son domestique" - you have no domestique.'

PRISONER (calmly): 'Pardon me, I have a domestic.'

GENERAL (with severity), 'Where is he?'

PRISONER: 'At Dresden by this time, I hope.'

GENERAL (receiving journal from aide-de-camp, who points to a certain page): 'You state here you were caught by the Austrians in a pretended escape from the Viennese insurgents; and add, "They evidently took me for a spy" [returning journal to aide]. What is your explanation of this?'

PRISONER (shrugging shoulders disdainfully): 'In the first place, the word "pretended" is not in my journal. In the second, although of course it does not follow, if one takes another person for a man of sagacity or a gentleman - it does not follow that he is either - still, when - '

GENERAL (with signs of impatience): 'I have here a PASSIERSCHEIN, found amongst your papers and signed by the rebels. They would not have given you this, had you not been on friendly terms with them. You will be detained until I have further particulars.'