what could I say that would have done me any service?  If they were capable of thinking me a thief,—which they certainly did,—nothing that I could say would remove the impression.  Nor, as I thought, was it suitable that I should defend myself from such an imputation.  What were the Greenes to me?  So I walked slowly out of the room, and never again saw one of the family from that day to this.

As I stood upon the beach the next morning, while my portmanteau was being handed into the boat, I gave the Boots five zwanzigers.  I was determined to show him that I did not condescend to feel anger against him.

He took the money, looked into my face, and then whispered to me, “Why did you not give me a word of notice beforehand?” he said, and winked his eye.  He was evidently a thief, and took me to be another;—but what did it matter?

I went thence to Milan, in which city I had no heart to look at anything; thence to Verona, and so over the pass of the Brenner to Innspruck.  When I once found myself near to my dear friends the Walkers I was again a happy man; and I may safely declare that, though a portion of my journey was so troublesome and unfortunate, I look back upon that tour as the happiest and the luckiest epoch of my life.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WHO KEPT HIS MONEY IN A BOX***