saidthecounsellor;andthewholepavementhasvanished,andthelampsareallout."

themoonhadnotyetrisenhighenoughtopenetratethethickfoggyair,andalltheobjectsaroundhimwereconfusedtogetherinthedarkness.atthenearestcorner,alamphungbeforeapictureofthemadonna;butthelightitgavewasalmostuseless,forheonlyperceiveditwhenhecamequitecloseandhiseyesfellonthepaintedfiguresofthemotherandchild.

"thatismostlikelyamuseumofart,"thoughthe,"andtheyhaveforgottentotakedownthesign."

twomen,inthedressofoldentimes,passedbyhim.

"whatoddfigures!"thoughthe;"theymustbereturningfromsomemasquerade."

suddenlyheheardthesoundofadrumandfifes,andthenablazinglightfromtorchesshoneuponhim.thecounsellorstaredwithastonishmentashebeheldamoststrangeprocessionpassbeforehim.firstcameawholetroopofdrummers,beatingtheirdrumsverycleverly;theywerefollowedbylife-guards,withlongbowsandcrossbows.theprincipalpersonintheprocessionwasaclerical-lookinggentleman.theastonishedcounselloraskedwhatitallmeant,andwhothegentlemanmightbe.

"thatisthebishopofzealand."

"goodgracious!"heexclaimed;"whatintheworldhashappenedtothebishop?whatcanhebethinkingabout?"thenheshookhisheadandsaid,"itcannotpossiblybethebishophimself."

whilemusingonthisstrangeaffair,andwithoutlookingtotherightorleft,hewalkedonthrougheaststreetandoverhighbridgeplace.thebridge,whichhesupposedledtopalacesquare,wasnowheretobefound;butinstead,hesawabankandsomeshallowwater,andtwopeople,whosatinaboat.

"doesthegentlemanwishtobeferriedovertheholm?"askedone.

"totheholm!"exclaimedthecounsellor,notknowinginwhatagehewasnowexisting;"iwanttogotochristian'shaven,inlittleturfstreet."themenstaredathim."praytellmewherethebridgeis!"saidhe."itisshamefulthatthelampsarenotlightedhere,anditisasmuddyasifonewerewalkinginamarsh."butthemorehetalkedwiththeboatmenthelesstheycouldunderstandeachother.

"idon'tunderstandyouroutlandishtalk,"hecriedatlast,angrilyturninghisbackuponthem.hecouldnot,however,findthebridgenoranyrailings.

"whatascandalousconditionthisplaceisin,"saidhe;never,certainly,hadhefoundhisowntimessomiserableasonthisevening."ithinkitwillbebetterformetotakeacoach;butwherearethey?"therewasnotonetobeseen!"ishallbeobligedtogobacktotheking'snewmarket,"saidhe,"wherethereareplentyofcarriagesstanding,orishallneverreachchristian'shaven."thenhewenttowardseaststreet,andhadnearlypassedthroughit,whenthemoonburstforthfromacloud.

"dearme,whathavetheybeenerectinghere?"hecried,ashecaughtsightoftheeastgate,whichinoldentimesusedtostandattheendofeaststreet.however,hefoundanopeningthroughwhichhepassed,andcameoutuponwhereheexpectedtofindthenewwastobeseenbutanopenmeadow,surroundedbyafewbushes,throughwhichranabroadcanalorstream.afewmiserable-lookingwoodenbooths,fortheaccommodationofdutchwatermen,stoodontheoppositeshore.

"eitheribeholdafatamorgana,orimustbetipsy,"groanedthecounsellor."whatcanitbe?whatisthematterwithme?"heturnedbackinthefullconvictionthathemustbeill.inwalkingthroughthestreetthistime,heexaminedthehousesmoreclosely;hefoundthatmostofthemwerebuiltoflathandplaster,andmanyhadonlyathatchedroof.

"iamcertainlyallwrong,"saidhe,withasigh;andyetionlydrankoneglassofpunch.buticannotbeareventhat,anditwasveryfoolishtogiveuspunchandhotsalmon;ishallspeakaboutittoourhostess,theagent'slady.supposeiweretogobacknowandsayhowillifeel,ifearitwouldlooksoridiculous,anditisnotverylikelythatishouldfindanyoneup."thenhelookedforthehouse,butitwasnotinexistence.

"thisisreallyfrightful;icannotevenrecognizeeastashoptobeseen;nothingbutold,wretched,tumble-downhouses,justasifiwereatroeskildeorringstedt.oh,ireallymustbeill!