But the landlord was at his throat in a moment. It was all logical, he showed him; and all magnificent. “What a spectacle! What a glance for an eye!” And the dishes reeled upon the table under a cannonade of blows.

Seeking to make peace, I threw in a word in praise of the liberty of opinion in France. I could hardly have shot more amiss. There was an instant silence, and a great wagging of significant heads. They did not fancy the subject, it was plain; but they gave me to understand that the sad Northman was a martyr on account of his views. “Ask him a bit,” said they. “Just ask him.”

“Yes, sir,” said he in his quiet way, answering me, although I had not spoken, “I am afraid there is less liberty of opinion in France than you may imagine.” And with that he dropped his eyes, and seemed to consider the subject at an end.