It is, and was, the custom in Ruegen for the bridegroom to make a present, in a fancy basket, to the bride; and that the town might not talk, Jodoque brought his bride a basket, though it was not particularly large, nor was it particularly heavy.

Here is an inventory of its contents, which, with itself, Jodoque laid down with considerable effect:—­Imprimis,—­one piece of cloth, on the use of which Jodoque gave an essay. Item,—­three cards of knitting-wool, for mittens. Item and finis,—­one white rabbit, the skin of which, Jodoque suggested, would make him a cap.

“Good!” said Bertha;—­“Jodoque,” she added.

“My angel!”

“You know Madame Kurrig’s?”

“At the very other end of the town?”

“Go there!”

“Go there, angel?—­why?”

“The silver teapot”—­

“My sil—­my aunt’s silver teapot?”

“Just so,—­Madame Kurrig”—­

“Has got it?—­I go!—­My aunt’s silver teapot!”

He ran down the little road towards the silver teapot,—­for, indeed, Madame Kurrig did not bear a superior character,—­but he had not proceeded far when he came upon the burgomaster, who was in great tribulation.  Only nineteen prisoners were at the fort, and the governor had sent down a rather imperative message to the mayor, who, replying that his loyal town could not conceal a fugitive, met with such an answer as he had never received before in all his life.  It is a deplorable fact that he and the town were recommended to go to a place, a visit to which the burgomaster at least hoped he should not be compelled to make.

The burgomaster was in the habit of asking people’s opinions and never listening to their answers, and he now asked Jodoque what he was to do.  Jodoque suggesting that the mayor could not want advice, the mayor admitted there was something in that,—­but still a word was a word.  Things, in fact, were in a pretty state, for the burgomaster, now he had to do with the escape of a French prisoner.  And this was the case.  The French were off the town, and at that time the French had the luck to be generally sure in the matter of victory.  Now if the French took the town, and learned that the burgomaster had taken a Frenchman, (for the burgomaster felt sure he could recover the runaway, if he chose,) the burgomaster would perform that pas seul upon the ambient air which is far from a pleasant feat; while if the French did not take the town, and it was brought home to him that he had neglected the duties of his office, he would lose the position of burgomaster and be a degraded man.

Jodoque sadly wanted to reach Madame Kurrig’s, but the burgomaster sadly wanted help,—­though he would not confess it openly;—­so he hooked himself on to Jodoque and uttered this sentence,—­“And this detested smuggler, too!”—­The effect of which was, that Jodoque became utterly pale and trembled violently.  This behavior the burgomaster attributed to his own proper presence, and asked himself, —­Could he survive degradation?  No, better the tight-rope performance!  So he made up his mind to recapture the missing Frenchman.