I
reached Petrilla a few minutes after five o'clock; but my man was not at
the churchyard corner, whereupon I rode all round the churchyard,
thinking he might by mistake have pitched on some odd corner, and be out
of sight under the trees. However, I looked in vain--a man on horseback
is not hidden like a lizard between two stones! Verily he was not there.
I waited half an hour all to no purpose. I now resolved to try and find
out where he lived. I had understood that he belonged to the village.
After a great deal of trouble and bother, and poking of my nose into
various interiors where the families were still _en deshabille_, I
unearthed my guide. He coolly said that he was waiting for the horse,
which was to be brought to him by some other lazy fellow not yet up.
I could not speak Wallachian, and he pretended not to understand a word
of my wrathful tirade in German, which was all nonsense, because I
found later that he spoke that language fairly well. I insisted that he
should come with me to find the horse, and so he did at last, in a
dilatory sort of way, and then it turned out that the animal was waiting
at the other end of the village for his rider.
Well, thought I, we shall start now; but no, there were two to that
bargain. The Wallack calmly informed me that he must return to his hut,
for he had not breakfasted. Not to lose sight of him, I returned too. He
then with Oriental deliberation set about making a fire, and proceeded
to cook his _polenta_ of maize.
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