The innkeeper understood, and
the beer was good.
The driver, who had been of course ludicrously over-paid, settled down
in his corner, and announced his intention of seeing through to the end
this most extraordinary and Heaven-directed occurrence. The innkeeper
and his wife busied themselves with the breakfast, and Guy made remarks
every now and then from his phrase book, which were usually
incomprehensible, except when they concerned a further supply of beer.
With a brave acceptance of the courtesies of the country he had accepted
a cigar from the driver, and was already contemplating the awful moment
when he would have to light it. Just then an interruption came.
It was something very official, but whether military or of the police
Guy could not tell. It strode into the room with clanking of spurs, and
the driver and innkeeper alike stood up in respect. It saluted Guy. Guy
took off his hat. Then there came words, but Guy was busy with his
phrase book.
"I cannot a word of German speak!" he announced at last.
A deadlock ensued. The innkeeper and the driver rushed into the breach.
Conversation became furious. Guy took advantage of the moment to slip
the cigar into his pocket, and to light a cigarette.
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