How pleasant it was to descend toward the valley. Uncle Peter sang; and
melodies suggested themselves to me, but I did not sing. Suddenly he
interrupted himself and said:--
"In the inns you'll be my niece, won't you?"
"Yes."
"But you must call me 'uncle' when we're there?"
"Of course, dear uncle."
He kept nodding to himself for the rest of the way, and was quite happy.
We reached the inn at the landing. He drank, and I drank too, from the
same glass.
"Where are you going?" asked the hostess.
"To the capital," said he, although I had not said a word to him about
it. Then he said to me in a whisper:--
"If you intend to go elsewhere, the people needn't know everything."