was too honest a fellow for that; but hang myself—­hang up my own self—­that is true—­that I should have done:  I should have turned a charge of powder against myself, that I might not live to see that I am not even worth that any more.”  The woman stood as if petrified; but he continued, “You have said a great truth, witch-mother; and, as they have neither drowned nor burned you yet, you shall be paid for your proverb.”  He handed her a buesel, a coin not usually given to a beggar.

We had crossed over the first Rhine-bridge, and were going to the inn where we meant to stop; and I was trying to lead him back to our previous conversation, when, unexpectedly, a very pretty girl met us on the pleasant foot-path, remained standing before us, bowed prettily, and cried, “Eh, eh, captain, where are you going?” and, whatever else is usually said on such an occasion.  “Mademoiselle,” replied he, somewhat embarrassed, “I know not”—­“How?” said she, with graceful astonishment, “do you forget your friends so soon?” The word “forget” fretted him:  he shook his head and replied, peevishly enough, “Truly, mademoiselle, I did not know!”—­She now retorted with some humor, yet very temperately, “Take care, captain:  I may mistake you another time!” And so she hurried past, taking huge strides, without looking round.  At once my fellow-traveller struck his forehead with both his fists:  “Oh, what an ass I am!” exclaimed he, “what an old ass I am!  Now, you see whether I am right or not.”  And then, in a very violent manner, he went on with his usual sayings and opinions, in which this case still more confirmed him.  I can not and would not repeat what a philippic discourse he held against himself.  At last he turned to me, and said, “I call you to witness!  You remember that small-ware woman at the corner, who is neither young nor pretty?  I salute her every time we pass, and often exchange a couple of friendly words with her; and yet it is thirty years ago since she was gracious to me.  But now I swear it is not four weeks since this young lady showed herself more complaisant to me than was reasonable; and yet I will not recognize her, but insult her in return for her favors!  Do I not always say, that ingratitude is the greatest of vices, and no man would be ungrateful if he were not forgetful?”

We went into the inn; and nothing but the tippling, swarming crowd in the ante-rooms stopped the invectives which he rattled off against himself and his contemporaries.  He was silent, and I hoped pacified, when we stepped into an upper chamber, where we found a young man pacing up and down alone, whom the captain saluted by name.  I was pleased to become acquainted with him; for the old fellow had said much good of him to me, and had told me that this young man, being employed in the war-bureau, had often disinterestedly done him very good service when the pensions were stopped.  I was glad that the conversation took a general turn; and, while we were carrying it on, we drank a bottle