We now entered upon the bargaining phase, a process which threatened to last some time; all the stragglers in the place assisted at the conference, taking a patriotic interest in their own countryman.  The matter was finally adjusted by the Wallack agreeing to take a sixth part of the original sum.

Seated on a bundle of hay, with my things around me, I was now quite ready for the start, but the driver had a great many last words with the public, which the interest in our proceedings had gathered about us.  Presently with an air of triumph he took his seat, gave a loud crack or two with his whip, and off we started at a good swinging trot, just to show what his team could accomplish.

We took the road to Weisskirchen, leaving the Danube in the rear.  The country was fairly pretty, but nothing remarkable; fine scenery under the circumstances would have been quite superfluous, for the dust was two feet deep in the road, and the heels of four horses scampering along raised such a cloud of it that we could see next to nothing.

We had not proceeded far when the speed sensibly relaxed; I fancy the horses went slower that they might listen to what the driver had to say, he talked to them the whole time.  He was not communicative to me; his knowledge of German seemed limited to the bargaining process, a lesson often repeated, I suspect.  As time wore on the heat became almost tropical; as for the dust, I felt as if I had swallowed a sandbank, and was joyful at the near prospect of quenching my thirst at Weisskirchen, now visible in the distance.

Hungarian towns look like overgrown villages that have never made up their minds seriously to become towns.  The houses are mostly of one story, standing each one alone, with the gable-end, blank and windowless, towards the road.  This is probably a relic of Orientalism.

Getting up full speed as we approached the town, we clattered noisily over the crown of the causeway, and suddenly making a sharp turn, found ourselves in the courtyard of the inn.

I inquired how long we were to remain here; “A small half-hour,” was the driver’s answer.  This was my first experience of a Wallack’s idea of time, if indeed they have any ideas on the subject beyond the rising and the setting of the sun.

I strolled about the place, but there was not much to be done in the time, and I got very tired of waiting:  the “half-hour” was anything but “small;” however, one must be somewhere, and in Hungary waiting comes a good deal into the day’s work.  I was rather afraid my Wallack was indulging too freely in slivovitz—­otherwise plum-brandy—­a special weakness of theirs; but after an intolerable delay we got off at last.