Thecountdescendedthestairsforthefifthtime，whisperedtothehostler，whowasquiteengrossedcountinghismoney，handedthetrinkgeldtothepalefellowsbythedoor，andmountedhiscarriage，drivingawayamidthemerrypealsofthepost-horn。
“Julius，“murmuredthesteward，softly，“givemyhairagoodpulling，thatImayawakefromthishorribledream。”
“Icannot，“hewhimpered，“myhandsandfeetarelame。Icannotmove。”
“Iwill，“saidthehostler，courageouslystretchingforthhishand，andpullingitsovigorouslythatthestewardwasfullyconvincedoftherealityofthings。
Againthepost-hornsoundedthe“DreiReuter；“againthecarriagestoppedbeforethedoor，andthecountdescended，givingtoeveryoneagiftlikethe“MaedchenausderFremde，“andforthesixthtimerolledaway。