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And I thought you were so grandly married, Froeken Gueldmar, though I forget your wedded name, how comes it that your husband is not with you?" "He is very busy in London," answered Thelma. "He knows where I am going. Do not be at all anxious, Friedhof, I shall make the journey very well and I am not afraid of storm or wild seas."
Friedhof still looked dubious, but finally yielded to her entreaties and agreed to arrange her passage for her in the morning. She stayed at his hotel that night, and with the very early dawn accompanied him on board the ship he had mentioned.
"I do not mind!" she answered quietly, and turning to Friedhof who had come to see her off, she shook hands with him warmly and thanked him for the trouble he had taken in her behalf.
"You will take me to see this captain you will tell him I must go with him. My father will thank you for this kindness to me, even better than I can." "It does not seem to me a kindness at all," returned Friedhof with frank bluntness. "I would be loth to sail the seas myself in such weather.
The German Friedhof, or burying-ground, had never the extent or magnificence of some American cemeteries. Even near the cities it was small and quiet, showing, however, in the well-kept mounds and stones there was no want of care.
And there is no passenger ship going to Christiania or Bergen for a fortnight!" Thelma clasped her hands in dismay. "But I must go!" she cried impatiently; "I must, indeed, good Friedhof! I cannot stay here! Surely, surely there is some vessel that would take me, some fishing boat, what does it matter how I travel, so long as I get away?" The landlord looked at her rather wonderingly.
Unfortunately, neither he nor Britta knew of the existence of the good Norwegian innkeeper, Friedhof, who had assisted Thelma in her flight and all their persistent and anxious inquiries elicited no news of her. Moreover, there was no boat of any kind leaving immediately for Norway not even a whaler or fishing-smack.
On the day that his comrades, deprived of their swords, left Berlin, his corpse was carried through the outer gate. The shot of Baron Marshal made an amputation necessary, and death was the consequence. While his friends, whose condemnation he had brought about, marched sadly to Spandau, his body was laid in the "Friedhof."
But it was too late now, and at a little before seven o'clock, the vessel, which rejoiced in the name of the Black Polly, left the harbor, and steamed fussily down the Humber in the teeth of a sudden storm of sleet and snow. Her departure had no interest for any one save Friedhof, who stood watching her till she was no more than a speck on the turbid water.
I had seen All Saints' Day in Venice and felt a mild curiosity to compare the Bavarian festival with the Italian. So I walked out to the great Alt Sud Friedhof where so many celebrities are buried, and where I fancied the scene would be most complete.
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