At the barriers of Saxony he was again interrogated. "I am a soldier,"
said our traveller, "behold the passport of the first warrior of the
age."--"You are a pupil of the destroyer of millions," replied the
sentinel, "we must send you to Dresden; and, hark'e, sir, conceal your
passport, as you would avoid being torn to pieces by those whose husbands,
sons, and relations have been wantonly sacrificed at the shrine of
Prussian ambition." A second examination at Dresden cleared him of
suspicion.

Arrived at the frontiers of Poland, he flattered himself his troubles were
at an end; but he reckoned without his host.

"Your business in Poland?" interrogated the officer.

"I really don't know, sir."

"Not know your own business, sir!" resumed the officer; "I must conduct
you to the Starost."

"For the love of God," said the wearied traveller, "take pity on me. I
have been imprisoned in Holland for being desirous to keep my own affairs
to myself;--I have been confined all night in a French guard-house, for
declaring myself a merchant;--I have been compelled to ride seven miles
behind a German dragoon, for professing myself a man of pleasure;--I have
been carried fifty miles a prisoner in Prussia, for acknowledging my
attachment to ease and good living;--I have been threatened with
assassination in Saxony, for avowing myself a warrior. If you will have
the goodness to let me know how I may render such an account of myself as
not to give offence, I shall ever consider you as my friend and protector."