“After a long time, we began to run more slowly.  I put my head out and could see in the distance a ring of lights hanging in the blackness.  I loosened the carriage door and waited for the train to run slower still; I didn’t mean to go into Linz like a rat into a trap.  At last I could wait no longer; I opened the door, jumped and fell into some bushes.  I was not much hurt, but bruised, and the breath knocked out of me.  As soon as I could, I crawled out.  It was very dark.  I felt heavy and sore, and for some time went stumbling in and out amongst trees.  Presently I came to a clear space; on one side I could see the town’s shape drawn in lighted lamps, and on the other a dark mass, which I think was forest; in the distance too was a thin chain of lights.  I thought:  ‘They must be the lights of a bridge.’  Just then the moon came out, and I could see the river shining below.  It was cold and damp, and I walked quickly.  At last I came out on a road, past houses and barking dogs, down to the river bank; there I sat against a shed and went to sleep.  I woke very stiff.  It was darker than before; the moon was gone.  I could just see the river.  I stumbled on, to get through the town before dawn.  It was all black shapes-houses and sheds, and the smell of the river, the smell of rotting hay, apples, tar, mud, fish; and here and there on a wharf a lantern.  I stumbled over casks and ropes and boxes; I saw I should never get clear—­the dawn had begun already on the other side.  Some men came from a house behind me.  I bent, and crept behind some barrels.  They passed along the wharf; they seemed to drop into the river.  I heard one of them say:  ‘Passau before night.’  I stood up and saw they had walked on board a steamer which was lying head up-stream, with some barges in tow.  There was a plank laid to the steamer, and a lantern at the other end.  I could hear the fellows moving below deck, getting up steam.  I ran across the plank and crept to the end of the steamer.  I meant to go with them to Passau!  The rope which towed the barges was nearly taut; and I knew if I could get on to the barges I should be safe.  I climbed down on this rope and crawled along.  I was desperate, I knew they’d soon be coming up, and it was getting light.  I thought I should fall into the water several times, but I got to the barge at last.  It was laden with straw.  There was nobody on board.  I was hungry and thirsty—­I looked for something to eat; there was nothing but the ashes of a fire and a man’s coat.  I crept into the straw.  Soon a boat brought men, one for each barge, and there were sounds of steam.  As soon as we began moving through the water, I fell asleep.  When I woke we were creeping through a heavy mist.  I made a little hole in the straw and saw the bargeman.  He was sitting by a fire at the barge’s edge, so that the sparks and smoke blew away over the water.  He ate and drank with both hands, and funny enough