of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city
gendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as one does who
floats between conviction and uncertainty. At length the two
vehicles turned into the Konigstrasse, the principal
thoroughfare of the capital, and here the Englishman's cab came
to a stand. The jehu climbed down and opened the door.

"Did Herr say the Continental?" he asked.

"No; the Grand."

The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand
Hotel was clean enough and respectable, but that was all that
could be said in its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would
haggle over the fare. Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably
disappointed, however, when, on arriving at the mean hostelry,
his passenger plunged a hand into a pocket and produced three
Franz-Josef florins.

"You may have these," he said, "for the trouble of having them
exchanged into crowns."

As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these
tourists were beyond the pale of his understanding. With a
pocket full of money, and to put up at the Grand! Why not the
Continental, which lay close to the Werter See, the palaces, the
royal and public gardens? It was at the Continental that the
fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and Innsbruck, and Munich,
and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months. But the Grand--
ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and within a