an unwilling bear at his elbow; a small train
of three mules followed in single file the lead of this inspiring
enthusiast. Two ladies rode past, one behind the other, but from the way
they sat I saw only their calm, uniform backs, and the long ends of blue
veils hanging behind far down over their identical hat-brims. His two
daughters, surely. An industrious luggage-mule, with unstarched ears and
guarded by a slouching, sallow driver, brought up the rear. My tutor,
after pausing for a look and a faint smile, resumed his earnest
argument.

I tell you it was a memorable year! One does not meet such an Englishman
twice in a lifetime. Was he in the mystic ordering of common events the
ambassador of my future, sent out to turn the scale at a critical moment
on the top of an Alpine pass, with the peaks of the Bernese Oberland for
mute and solemn witnesses? His glance, his smile, the unextinguishable
and comic ardour of his striving-forward appearance, helped me to
pull myself together. It must be stated that on that day and in the
exhilarating atmosphere of that elevated spot I had been feeling utterly
crushed. It was the year in which I had first spoken aloud of my desire
to go to sea. At first like those sounds that, ranging outside the
scale to which men's ears are attuned, remain inaudible to our sense of
hearing, this declaration passed unperceived. It was as if it had not
been. Later on, by trying various tones, I managed to arouse here
and there a surprised momentary attention--the "What was that funny
noise?"--sort of inquiry. Later on it was: "Did you hear what that boy
said? What an extraordinary outbreak!" Presently a wave of scandalized
astonishment (it could not have been greater if I had announced
the intention of entering a Carthusian monastery) ebbing out of the
educational and academical town of Cracow spread itself over several
provinces. It spread itself shallow but far-reaching. It stirred up a
mass of remonstrance, indignation, pitying wonder, bitter irony, and
downright chaff. I could hardly breathe under its weight, and certainly
had no words for an answer. People wondered what Mr. T. B. would do now
with his worrying nephew and, I dare say, hoped kindly that he would
make short work of my nonsense.

What he did was to come down all the way from Ukraine to have it out
with me and to judge by himself, unprejudiced, impartial, and just,
taking his stand on the ground of wisdom and affection. As far as i