ou've only to say that dogs are a damned nuisance--almost as
loathsome as the police. He can't stand them either. Hi! Katrine,"
he called into the kitchen, "get hold of the Bandmaster quick, and
tell him to come along--give him plenty of drink too, for he must
be thawed before you get anything out of him."

"No fear about that," said Lars Peter airily, putting a ten-crown
piece on the table, which the inn-keeper quickly pocketed. "That's
right, old man--that's doing the thing properly," said he
appreciatively. "I'll see to the whiskey. You're a gentleman, that's
certain--you've got a well-filled pocketbook, I suppose?"

"I've got about a hundred crowns," answered Lars Peter, fearing it
would not suffice.

"You shall see your wife!" shouted the inn-keeper, shaking Lars
Peter's hand violently. "You shall see your wife as certain as I'm
your friend! Perhaps she'll be with you tonight. What do you think
of that, eh, old man?" He put his arm round Lars Peter's shoulders,
shaking him jovially.

Lars Peter laughed and was moved--he almost had tears in his eyes.
He was a little overcome by the warmth of the room and the whiskey.

A tall thin gentleman came down into the cellar. He wore a black
frock-coat, but was without waistcoat and collar--perhaps because he
had been sent for in such a hurry. He had spectacles on, and looked
on the whole a man of authority. He had a distinguished appearance,
somewhat like a town-crier or a conjurer from the market-place. His
voice was shrill and cracked, and he had an enormous larynx.

The inn-keeper treated him with great deference. "G'day, sir," said
he, bowing low--"here's a man wants advice. He's had an accident,
his wife's having a holiday at the King's expense."

The conductor glanced rather contemptuously at the rag and bone
man's big shabby figure. But the inn-keeper winked one eye, and
said, "I mustn't forget the beer-man." He went behind the desk and
wrote on a slate, "100." The Bandmaster glanced at the figure and
nodded to himself, then sat down and began to question Lars
Peter--down to every detail. He considered for a few minutes, and
then said, turning towards the inn-keeper, "Alma must tackle
this--she's playing with the _princess_, you know."

"Yes, of course!" shouted the inn-keeper, delightedly. "Of course
Alma can put it right, but tonight----?" He looked significantly at
the Bandmaster.

"Leave it to me, my dear friend. Just you leave it to me," said the
othe