The little inn where I had taken refuge was kept by kindly folk who were, however, unable to let me stop unless I could pay. I saw myself faced with the most extreme misery. The innkeeper seemed frightened of me. He told me that he had been ordered to render an account of my doings to the police, and that I was kept well under observation, although I might not be aware that this was the case. He was mistaken. I and Olga had both noticed that our slightest movements were watched. Even in our walks in the open country we continually met some peasant or some pedestrian who appeared not to notice us, but who actually spied on us more or less unsuccessfully. I felt the influence of an implacable force that wished to immure me in some new gaol, madhouse or prison, or which would perhaps even make me contemplate self-destruction. In this extremity Heaven once again came to my rescue. On the very day which I thought would be the last I should be allowed to stay at the inn, I sat down, miserably, on a bench in front of the house. I asked myself in despair what was to become of me. Suddenly a carriage appeared--a rare sight in that unfrequented region. The coachman signalled to me, and I saw, sitting in the carriage, a large, important-looking person who seemed looking for something or somebody. He was looking for me! I was soon acquainted with the fact that this gentleman had come from Budapest on behalf of the count, and wished to speak to me. At these words I felt myself lifted out of the abyss of despair. But my trials were not over. The count's confidential agent had been charged with the mission of helping me to leave Germany. In order to do this, it would be necessary to cross Austria into Hungary, where I could rely upon active sympathy being shown me. Things and people had already changed in the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy! But, what possibilities such a journey presented! First, I had no official papers. The revelation of my name and title would alone suffice to impede my progress; I should be instantly detained. But although, thanks to the count's messenger, my bill at the inn was settled, I had only very limited means at my disposal. Austria, it is true, was not far away. We could go there across the mountains by way of Bohemia, but the envoy declared that, owing to his shortness of breath and his troublesome legs, he could not possibly follow me over the goat tracks which we should most assuredly have to pass. He decided that our best plan was to make for Dresden, and from there to choose the easiest route. When evening fell our host metaphorically closed his eyes to my departure. He waited until the next day to notify my disappearance to the authorities.