e piled snow of the street and the succeeding plunge down to the
Inn, a vast bulk heaved itself into the seaway, like some lost monster
of a Megatherium retreating to the swamps to couch itself ere morning
light.

It was the Burgomeister of Bergsdorf.

"Acht--u--um--m!" I shouted, as one who, on the Scottish links, should
cry "Fore!" and be ready to commit murder.

But the vision solemnly held up its hand and cried "Halt!"

"Halt yourself!" I cried, "and get out of the way!" For I was
approaching at a speed of nearly a mile a minute. Now, there is but one
way of halting a toboggan. It is to run the nose of your machine into a
snow-bank, where it will stick. On the contrary, you do not stop. You
describe the curve known as a parabola, and skin your own nose on the
icy crust of the snow. Then you "halt," in one piece or several, as the
case may be.

But I, on this occasion, did not halt in this manner. The mind moves
swiftly in emergencies. I reflected that I had a low Canadian toboggan
with a soft buffalo-skin over the front. The Burgomeister also had
naturally well-padded legs. _Eh bien_--a meeting of these two could do
no great harm to either. So I sat low in my seat, and let the toboggan
run.

Down I came flying, checked a little at the rise for the crossing of the
village street. A mountainous bulk towered above me--a bulk that still
and anon cried "Halt!" There was a slight shock and a jar. The stars
were eclipsed above me for a moment; something like a large tea-tray
passed over my head and fell flat on the snow behind me. Then I scudded
down the long descent to the Inn, leaving the village and all its
happenings miles behind.

I did not come up the same way. I did not desire to attract immodest
attention. Unobtrusively, therefore, I proceeded to leave my toboggan in
its accustomed out-house at the back of the Osteria. Then, slipping on
another overcoat, I took an innocent stroll along the village street, in
the company of the landlord.

There was a great crowd on the corner by the Rathhaus. In the centre was
Henry, in the hands of two officers of justice. The Burgomeister,
supported by sympathising friends, limped behind. There is no doubt that
Henry was exercising English privileges. His captors were unhappy. But I
bade him go quietly, and with a look of furious bewilderment he obeyed.
Finally we got the hotel-keeper, a staunch friend of ours and of great
importance in these parts, to bail him out.

O