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

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

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

　　At Warsaw I had an adventure not unlike that which befell meat Vienna. The whole of Europe, remember, was in a state ofpolitical ferment. Poland was at least as ready to riseagainst its oppressor then as now; and the police wasproportionately strict and arbitrary. An army corps wasencamped on the right bank of the Vistula, ready for expectedemergencies. Under these circumstances, passports, as may besupposed, were carefully inspected; except in those ofBritish subjects, the person of the bearer was described -his height, the colour of his hair (if he had any), or anymark that distinguished him.

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

　　The inspector who examined it at the frontier pointed tothis, and, in indifferent German, asked me where thatindividual was. I replied that I had sent him with mybaggage to Dresden, to await my arrival there. Aconsultation thereupon took place with another official, in alanguage I did not understand; and to my dismay I wasinformed that I was - in custody. The small portmanteau Ihad with me, together with my despatch-box, was seized; thelatter contained a quantity of letters and my journal. Moneyonly was I permitted to retain.

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

　　My irritation, indeed, was at its height. But there was noappeal; and on my arrival I was haled before the authorities.

　　Again, their head was a general officer, though not the leastlike my portly friend at Vienna. His business was to sit injudgment upon delinquents such as I. He was a spare, austereman, surrounded by a sharp-looking aide-de-camp, severalclerks in uniform, and two or three men in mufti, whom I tookto be detectives. The inspector who arrested me was presentwith my open despatch-box and journal. The journal he handedto the aide, who began at once to look it through while hischief was disposing of another case.

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

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

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

　　'England, of course; you can see that by my passport.' I wasdetermined to fence him with his own weapons. Indeed, inthose innocent days of my youth, I enjoyed a genuine Britishcontempt for foreigners - in the lump - which, after all, isabout as impartial a sentiment as its converse, that one'sown 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 followyou.' (Don't forget, please, that said prisoner's apparelwas unvaleted, his hands unwashed, his linen unchanged, hishair 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 sayshere, "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 acertain page): 'You state here you were caught by theAustrians in a pretended escape from the Viennese insurgents;and add, "They evidently took me for a spy" [returningjournal to aide]. What is your explanation of this?'

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

　　GENERAL (with signs of impatience): 'I have here aPASSIERSCHEIN, found amongst your papers and signed by therebels. They would not have given you this, had you not beenon friendly terms with them. You will be detained until Ihave further particulars.'

　　PRISONER (angrily): 'I will assist yo............