“But you are not going to-do that,” she replied to his remarks.

“Why not?”

“Because there is no honor in it.”

“Hm, honor,” he ejaculated, and began to drum upon the table with his fingers; but, not having the courage to argue the question, he merely turned his face away and left the table.

* * * * *

The city was very ugly and very handsome, and an equal contrast was, to be observed in its inhabitants, at least with respect to their moral qualities.  Here, as in all seaports, there was a broad stratum of human beings day in and day out under the influence of rum and arrack, and they composed the main body of the population; but there was also, as is quite general in seaports, a society of a materially higher type spiritually, which overshadowed by far what one usually met with in those days in the small cities of the inland provinces, especially the Mark of Brandenburg, where the narrowest philistinism held sway.  That these inhabitants were so thoroughly free from narrow-mindedness was without doubt due to a variety of causes, but chiefly, perhaps, to the fact that the whole population was of a pronounced international character.  In the villages of the environs there still lived presumably a certain number of the descendants of the Wendic Pomeranian:  aborigines of the days of Julin and Vineta.  In Swinemuende itself, especially in the upper stratum of society, there was such a confusion of races that one came in contact with representatives from all the nations of Northern Europe, Swedes, Danes, Dutchmen, and Scotchmen, who had settled here at one time or another, most of them, no doubt, at the beginning of the century, the period when the hitherto unimportant city first began to grow and prosper.

The number of inhabitants, at the time of our arrival, was about four thousand, of whom hardly a tenth were citizens of the city, and a still very much smaller fraction entered into consideration socially.  What could be called, with more or less justice, the society of the city was composed of not more than twenty families.  These twenty families, together with a few of the nobility, who came in from the country to spend the winter, formed a private club, with headquarters in the Olthoff Hall, and the club’s membership was further enlarged, as was the society of the city in general, by the dependents, or retinue, of a few of the richest and most respected houses.  These proteges, half of them poor relatives, half bankrupt merchants, were not always invited, but were, on all important convivial occasions, designed to produce a deep impression, and their function then was to submit to what the Englishmen call practical jokes, during the second half of the banquet, the first half being, as a usual thing, conspicuous for the remarkably proper conduct of the company.  When the time arrived for this part of the program all bonds of pious awe were loosed and they proceeded with most