For the moment he withdrew, and burning with shame, for every eye was upon me, I turned defiantly to the stage. "Will the Herr ride or walk?" came again the voice in my ear. "What do you mean?" "The Herr must go immediately to the Hotel d'Hollande. That is all." I expostulated, but a storm of hisses from those near enough to be interrupted in their enjoyment of the music decided me, and I angrily rose. "I am at your service, sir." We walked on without a word. Never shall I forget the face of the fat little Dutch landlord as we entered--surprise, sympathy, fear alternately lighting his countenance as he poured forth a polyglot expression of his excited feelings. In French, English, Dutch, and German he assured us he was desolated, miserable, abandoned. Ah, but it was a good young Englaender. It was true he had never seen the passport; he knew he should have asked for it himself when his noble friend first came to the house; but, _bete brouillant_ that he was, he had forgotten it. Then followed a conference between the landlord and the officer, resulting in my being called aside by the former and receiving the following valuable advice: "My dear sir, you have made a most never-to-be-sufficiently deplored mistake. But see. Satisfy this zealous officer with a bottle of good Stein wine, and all will be well in the morning; only do not leave the house again to-night." It was a bitter pill, but I swallowed it gracefully, and Herr Polizeidiener and I clicked glasses fraternally with protestations of mutual regard. In the morning I was awakened by Jules, whose night's rest had done him a world of good. Bright, vivacious, and noisy, he bounded into my room. "Oh, Herr Mortimer, such an idea! There is a grand review of the soldiery. Come, get up. We must go and see it. I would not miss it for the world." "Do not be so excited, Jules; it is the last place to which I would dream of taking you. Your father----" "Wrote me not to fail to see the Austrian troops if I had an opportunity." Perhaps there was some object in that, and to Jules's delight I consented to take seats on the lumbering stage-coach that was to leave the hotel with other guests bent on the same holiday excursion. I was the more complacent as I reflected that the steamer did not leave Vienna till five o'clock, and I thus saw a means of keeping Jules out of further mischief. We reached the review ground. It was indeed a gorgeous scene. Crimson and gold, blue and silver flashed back the sun's rays, bugles sounded, and cannon roared. I was not quite at my ease, however, as I noticed the interest I was exciting in a resplendent official, whose eyes were continually on me. At last, to my dismay, he beckoned to me. "Sir, your passport?" "It is gone to the bureau to be _vise_," and then followed a pathetic recital of the annoyances I had been subjected to. "Will the Herr ride or walk?" was the stereotyped response. "Where?"