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"Do we change again?" he asked.
"_Wo fahren Sie hin?_"
"Zurich."
"You must change in Bregenz."
"We must change in Bregenz," Jack called out.
By that time the German Venice was well behind, and the train was skirting the southern sh.o.r.e of the Bodensee. The sun was s.h.i.+ning on the waves, and the woods upon the banks were spattered with red and yellow.
And off to the north Constance was lying. Ah, Constance--the Stadtgarten--Huss' Tower--the "Souvenir" of Vieuxtemps!
Rosina wept afresh.
"Oh, Ottillie," she sobbed, forlornly, "_que je suis malheureuse aujourd'hui_!"
Ottillie opened her little bag and handed her mistress another fresh handkerchief; it was the only way in which she could testify to her devotion upon this especial day.
At Bregenz they descended, with the aid of a porter, at about half-past two. As they left the train it was borne in upon them that this change was not a change at all, but just another custom-house.
"What strange country have we run up against, I'd like to know!" Jack asked in amazement; and then the black c.o.c.ks' plumes in the _casquette_ of the _douanier_ revealed the information that he craved.
"How does Austria get to the Bodensee?" Rosina begged to know, having seen the c.o.c.ks' plumes as quickly as he had.
"I don't know," replied Jack, not at all pleased at the discovery as to where they were. "It does seem as if every country in Europe has a finger in this lake, though; or, if they haven't, they keep a custom-house open on it just as a side line to their regular business."
The porter led them into the great wooden shed, where some unplaned boards laid across boxes served as counters, Bregenz being in the throes of the erection of a new station.
"I bet they make it plain whether its _kronen_ or _gulden_," said Rosina's cousin as he threw his valise on top of the porter's small mountain; "if I'd known that I was to come in connection with that vile money system again I'd have _schiffed_ it across the lake or walked around the northern sh.o.r.e before I'd ever have come this route."
By this remark he testified to a keen recollection of his Viennese experiences and the double dealing (no pun intended) of the Austrian shopkeeper just at the present epoch in the national finance system of that country.
Behind the boards two uniformed officials paced up and down, and when all was neatly ranged before them the one bestowed his attention upon Rosina while the other turned his in among the infinity of boxes belonging to her party. He peeped into two or three of the valises and chalked them and all of their kind; then he demanded the opening of the largest dress-box. Ottillie unstrapped it and undertook to satisfy his curiosity to the fullest possible extent.
The object uppermost of all was a Russian leather writing-tablet. The official leapt upon that at once.
"On this you must pay thirty _centimes_," he declared, grabbing it up.
"_Warum?_" said Jack. He found "_warum_" the most useful word in his German vocabulary, because by the very nature of things it always threw the burden of the conversation on to the shoulders of the other party.
"You cannot pretend that it is an article of wearing apparel for madame," said the officer archly.
"I never said that it was an article of wearing apparel for any one,"
Jack retorted hotly; "I asked why I had to pay thirty _centimes_ on it.
It isn't new and it isn't dutiable, and I know that, and you know it too."
"What is it, anyhow?" asked the man.
"It's to write on."
"Why does not madame write on paper, like everybody else?" inquired the witty fellow.
"There's your six cents," said Jack, in great disgust; "I reckon you take _pfennigs_, don't you?"
"Oh, yes," said the Austrian, "we take everything."
"Yes," replied the American, "so I observed in Vienna."
Then he turned away and the porter loaded up again.
They went out on the platform and were told that the train had just gone.
"_Wo fahren Sie hin?_" asked the guard, taking pity on their consternation at being left high and dry so unexpectedly.
"Zurich."
"Oh, then that wasn't your train anyway; that train went to Rorshack.
You take the Zurichbahn at half-past three."
There was three-quarters of an hour to wait.
"Do you suppose that there is anything worth seeing in Bregenz?" the man of the party suggested.
"I don't want to see it if there is," his cousin replied.
"Well, I do want to see it, even if there isn't," he answered; "you and Ottillie can go into the waiting-room and I'll be back in half an hour."
So he went off whistling, his ulster floating serenely around him.
Rosina established herself in a boarded-off angle which under existing circ.u.mstances was dignified by the t.i.tle of "Warte-Saal," and every nail that was driven into the new Gare of Bregenz pierced her aching heart and echoed in her aching head.
After the lapse of half an hour Jack turned up again, having thoroughly exhausted Bregenz and purchased a new cane most ingeniously carved with bears' heads and paws interlaced.
He was not overpleased to be informed that the Zurichbahn was late, and that there was no probability of their leaving the dominions of Francis Joseph before four o'clock at the earliest.
"It's an awful shame the way this world is put on," he said, yawning and walking up and down; "it would be Paradise to Von Ibn to have the right to cart you and your bags around, and it's h--l for me, and I've got it to do notwithstanding."
"I never sent for you to take me home," Rosina said in an outraged tone.
"Oh, I wasn't blaming you," he declared amicably.
"Oh," she said coldly, "I thought that you were."
The Zurichbahn was very late, and did not put in an appearance until half-past four. Then they went aboard with a tired feeling that would have done credit to an arrival in Seattle from New York.
"Do we change again?" Rosina asked with latent sarcasm, when the guard (a handsome guard, worthy to have been a first lieutenant at the very least) came through to tear some pages out of their little books.
"_Wo fahren Sie hin?_" he asked, with a beaming smile.
"Zurich," Jack sung out, with renewed vigor.