Voyages and Travels of Count Funnibos and Baron Stilkin | Page 3

as wide as his fat cheeks would allow him, then blew a fresh cloud of smoke, and with the end of his pipe, evidently not wishing to fatigue himself by speaking, pointed along the quay, where the masts of numerous vessels could be seen crowded together.
"Thank you, friend," said the Count, making a bow, for he always piqued himself on his politeness. The Baron felt angry at not having his question answered more promptly, and only gave a formal nod, of which the burly individual took not the slightest notice.
The two travellers continued on, picking their way among the casks, cases, bales, packages and anchors, and guns stuck upright with their muzzles in the ground, and bits of iron chain and spars, and broken boats, and here and there a capstan or a windlass, tall cranes, and all sorts of other articles such as encumber the wharves of a mercantile seaport. As they went along the Baron asked the same question which he had put to the burly individual of several other persons whom he and his friend encountered; some laughed and did not take the trouble of replying, others said that there were vessels of all sorts about to sail to various lands, but whether they were going round the world was not known to them.
"We must make inquiries for ourselves," said the Baron. "Remember that those who want a thing go for it, those who don't want it stay at home; now, as we do want to know where those ships are about to sail to, we must go."
"But, my dear Baron, a dreadful thought has occurred to me. I quite forgot to speak to Johanna Klack, my estimable and trustworthy housekeeper, to give her directions as to her proceedings during my absence. I really think I must go back, or she will not know what to do."
"No, no, my dear Count, I cannot allow you to do so foolish an act. I know Johanna Klack too well for that," said the Baron, with some bitterness in his tone. "She'll not let you go away again; she'll talk you to death with arguments against your going; she'll lock you up in the blue room, or the brown room, or in the dungeon itself, and I shall have to proceed alone. More than half the pleasure of the voyage will be lost without your society; besides which, I have no money to pay for my passage, for you will remember that you undertook to do that."
"Then, I will leave my portmanteau and my umbrella with you as a security," said the Count, trying to get his arm free from that of his friend.
"Ha, ha, ha! that will be no security at all," observed the Baron. "Why, it would be the cause of my destruction. Just see how I should be situated. Johanna Klack will shut you up, and you will disappear from this sublunary world for a time, at all events. It is already known that we set out on our travels. I shall be discovered with your portmanteau as well as my own, and accused, notwithstanding my protestations of innocence, of having done away with you, and before Johanna Klack allows you to reappear I shall to a certainty be hung up by the neck, or have my head chopped off, or be transported beyond seas. Johanna Klack may be a very estimable and charming individual, but I know her too well to trust her. Let her alone; she and your steward being, as you say, thoroughly honest, will manage your affairs to your satisfaction. When we are once away--two or three hundred miles off-- you can write and tell her that you are gone on your travels, and give such directions as you may deem necessary. Come along, my dear fellow, come along; I fear even now that she may have discovered our departure and may consider it her duty to follow us."
"If she does, she had better look out for the consequences," said the Baron to himself.
The Count yielded to his friend's arguments, and they continued their course. As they reached the more frequented parts of the quay, where the larger number of vessels were collected, they observed a party of jovial sailors assembled in front of a wine-shop door; some were seated at their ease on benches, either smoking or holding forth to their companions, who were standing by listening. They looked perfectly happy and contented with themselves. One lolling back with his legs stretched out, who was evidently the orator of the party, and thought no small beer of himself, was spinning an interesting yarn or making some amusing jokes.
"Those are the sort of mariners I should like to sail with," observed the Baron. "They are stout fellows, and probably first-rate seamen. Let us