Certain small split pegs were seated astride across the nose of the old woman and that of another player, whilst the third was significantly and cunningly winking his eye and seeming to enjoy seeing them victimised upon these new Caudine Forks. "How many cards?" he was asking. "Two," answered the old woman. "And you, Christian?" "Two." "Aha! now I have got you, then. Cut the kingnow the acehere's one, here's another. Another peg, mother! This will teach you once more not to brag about French games." "Monsieur Christian, you don't treat the fair sex with proper respect." "At cards you respect nobody." "But you see I have no room left!" "Pooh, on a nose like yours there's always room for more!" At that moment Sperver cried "Mates, here I am!" "Ha! Gideon, back already?" Marie Lagoutte shook off her numerous pegs with a jerk of her head. The big butler drank off his glass. Everybody turned our way. "Is monseigneur better?" The butler answered with a doubtful ejaculation. "Is he just the same?" "Much about," answered Marie Lagoutte, who never took her eyes off me. Sperver noticed this. "Let me introduce to you my fosterson, Doctor Fritz, from the Black Forest," he answered proudly. "Now we shall see a change, Master Tobie. Now that Fritz has come the abominable fits will be put an end to. If I had but been listened to earlierbut better late than never." Marie Lagoutte was still watching us, and her scrutiny seemed satisfactory, for, addressing the majordomo, she said "Now, Monsieur Offenloch, hand the doctor a chair; move about a little, do! There you stand with your mouth wide open, just like a fish. Ah, sir, these Germans!" And the good man, jumping up as if moved by a spring, came to take off my cloak. "Permit me, sir." "You are very kind, my dear lady." "Give it to me. What terrible weather! Ah, monsieur, what a dreadful country this is!" "So monseigneur is neither better nor worse," said Sperver, shaking the snow off his cap; "we are not too late, then. Ho, Kasper! Kasper!" A little man, who had one shoulder higher than the other, and his face spotted with innumerable freckles, came out of the chimney corner. "Here I am!" "Very good; now get ready for this gentleman the bedroom at the end of the long galleryHugh's room; you know which I mean." "Yes, Sperver, in a minute." "And you will take with you, as you go, the doctor's knapsack. Knapwurst will give it you. As for supper" "Never you mind. That is my business." "Very well, then. I will depend upon you." The little man went out, and Gideon, after taking off his cape, left us to go and inform the young countess of my arrival. I was rather overpowered with the attentions of Marie Lagoutte. "Give up that place of yours, Sbalt," she cried to the kennelkeeper. "You are roasted enough by this time. Sit near the fire, monsieur le docteur; you must have very cold feet. Stretch out your legs; that's the way." Then, holding out her snuffbox to me "Do you take snuff?" "No, dear madam, with many thanks." "That is a pity," she answered, filling both nostrils. "It is the most delightful habit." She slipped her snuffbox back into her apron pocket, and went on "You are come not a bit too soon. Monseigneur had his second attack yesterday; it was an awful attack, was it not, Monsieur Offenloch?" "Furious indeed," answered the head butler gravely. "It is not surprising," she continued, "when a man takes no nourishment. Fancy, monsieur, that for two days he has never tasted broth!" "Nor a glass of wine," added the majordomo, crossing his hands over his portly, welllined person. As it seemed expected of me, I expressed my surprise, on which Tobias Offenloch came to sit at my right hand, and said "Doctor, take my advice; order him a bottle a day of Marcobrunner." "And," chimed in Marie Lagoutte, "a wing of a chicken at every meal. The poor man is frightfully thin." "We have got Marcobrunner sixty years in bottle," added the majordomo, "for it is a mistake of Madame Offenloch's to suppose that the French drank it all. And you had better order, while you are about it, now and then, a good bottle of Johannisberg. That is the best wine to set a man up again." "Time was," remarked the master of the hounds in a dismal voice"time was when monseigneur hunted twice a week; then he was well; when he left off hunting, then he fell ill." "Of course it could not be otherwise," observed Marie Lagoutte. "The open air gives you an appetite. The doctor had better order him to hunt three times a week to make up for lost time." "Two would be enough," replied the man of dogs with the same gravity; "quite enough. The hounds must have their rest. Dogs have just as much right to rest as we have." There was a few moments' silence, during which I could hear the wind beating against the windowpanes, and rush, sighing and wailing, through the loopholes into the towers. Sbalt sat with legs across, and his elbow resting on his knee, gazing into the fire with unspeakable dolefulness. Marie Lagoutte, after having refreshed herself with a fresh pinch, was settling her snuff into shape in its box, while I sat thinking on the strange habit people indulge in of pressing their advice upon those who don't want it. At this moment the majordomo rose. "Will you have a glass of wine, doctor?" said he, leaning over the back of my armchair. "Thank you, but I never drink before seeing a patient." "What! not even one little glass?" "Not the smallest glass you could offer me." He opened his eyes wide and looked with astonishment at his wife. "The doctor is right," she said. "I am quite of his opinion. I prefer to drink with my meat, and to take a glass of cognac afterwards. That is what the ladies do in France. Cognac is more fashionable than kirschwasser!" Marie Lagoutte had hardly finished with her dissertation when Sperver opened the door quietly and beckoned me to follow him. I bowed to the "honourable company," and as I was entering the passage I could hear that lady saying to her husband "That is a nice young man. He would have made a goodlooking soldier." Sperver looked uneasy, but said nothing. I was full of my own thoughts. A few steps under the darkling vaults of Nideck completely effaced from my memory the queer figures of Tobias and Marie Lagoutte, poor harmless creatures, existing like bats under the mighty wing of the vulture. Soon Gideon brought me into a sumptuous apartment hung with violetcoloured velvet, relieved with gold. A bronze lamp stood in a corner, its brightness toned down by a globe of ground crystal; thick carpets, soft as the turf on the hills, made our steps noiseless. It seemed a fit abode for silence and meditation. On entering Sperver lifted the heavy draperies which fell around an ogee window. I observed him straining his eyes to discover something in the darkened distance; he was trying to make out whether the witch still lay there crouching down upon the snow in the midst of the plain; but he could see nothing, for there was deep darkness over all. But I had gone on a few steps, and came in sight, by the faint rays of the lamp, of a pale, delicate figure seated in a Gothic chair not far from the sick man. It was Odile of Nideck. Her long black silk dress, her gentle expression of calm selfdevotion and complete resignation, the ideal angellike cast of her sweet features, recalled to one's mind those mysterious creations of the pencil in the Middle Ages when painting was pursued as a true art, but which modern imitators have found themselves obliged to give up in despair, while at the same time they never can forget them. I cannot say what thoughts passed rapidly through my mind at the sight of this fair creature, but certainly much of devotion mingled with my sentiments. A sense of music and harmony swept sadly through by soul, with faint impressions of the old ballads of my childhoodof those pious songs with which the kind nurses of the Black Forest rock to peaceful sleep our infant sorrows. At my approach Odile rose. "You are very welcome, monsieur le docteur," she said with touching kindness and simplicity; then, pointing with her finger to a recess where lay the count, she added, "There is my father." I bowed respectfully and without answering, for I felt deeply affected, and drew near to my patient. Sperver, standing at the head of the bed, held up the lamp with one hand, holding his far cap in the other. Odile stood at my left hand. The light, softened by the subdued light of the globe of ground crystal, fell softly on the face of the count. At once I was struck with a strangeness in the physiognomy of the Count of Nideck, and in spite of all the admiration which his lovely daughter had at once obtained from me, my first conclusion was, "What an old wolf!" And such he seemed to be indeed. A grey head, covered with short, close hair, strangely full behind the ears, and drawn out in the face to a portentous length, the narrowness of his forehead up to its summit widening over the eyebrows, which were shaggy and met, pointing downwards over the bridge of the nose, imperfectly shading with their sable outline the cold and inexpressive eyes; the short, rough beard, irregularly spread over the angular and bony outline of the mouthevery feature of this man's dreadful countenance made me shudder, and strange notions crossed my mind about the mysterious affinities between man and the lower creation. But I resisted my first impressions and took the sick man's hand. It was dry and wiry, yet small and strong; I found the pulse quick, feverish, and denoting great irritability. What was I to do? I stood considering; on the one side stood the young lady, anxiously trying to read a little hope in my face; on the other Sperver, equally anxious and watching my every movement. A painful constraint lay, therefore, upon me, yet I saw that there was nothing definite that could be attempted yet. I dropped the arm and listened to the breathing. From time to time a convulsive sob heaved the sick man's heart, after which followed a succession of quick, short respirations. A kind of nightmare was evidently weighing him downepilepsy, perhaps, or tetanus. But what could be the cause or origin? I turned round full of painful thoughts. "Is there any hope, sir?" asked the young countess. "Yesterday's crisis is drawing to its close," I answered; "we must see if we can prevent its recurrence." "Is there any possibility of it, sir?" I was about to answer in general medical terms, not daring to venture any positive assertions, when the distant sound of the bell at the gate fell upon our ears. "Visitors," said Sperver. There was a moment's silence. "Go and see who it is," said Odile, whose brow was for a minute shaded with anxiety. "How can one be hospitable to strangers at such a time? It is hardly possible!" But the door opened, and a rosy face, with golden hair, appeared in the shadow, and said in a whisper "It is the Baron of ZimmerBluderich, with a servant, and he asks for shelter in the Nideck. He has lost his way among the mountains." "Very well, Gretchen," answered the young countess, kindly; "go and tell the steward to attend to the Baron de Zimmer. Inform him that the count is very ill, and that this alone prevents him from doing the honours as he would wish. Wake up some of our people to wait on him, and let everything be done properly." Nothing could exceed the sweet and noble simplicity of the young chtelaine in giving her orders. If an air of distinction seems hereditary in some families it is surely because the exercise of the duties conferred by the possession of wealth has a natural tendency to ennoble the whole character and bearing. These thoughts passed through my mind whilst admiring the grace and gentleness in every movement of Odile of Nideck, and that clearness and purity of outline which is only found marked in the features of the higher aristocracy, and I could recall nothing to my recollection equal to this ideal beauty. "Go now, Gretchen," said the young countess, "and make haste." The attendant went out, and I stood a few seconds under the influence of the charm of her manner. Odile turned round, and addressing me, "You see, sir," said she with a sad smile, "one may not indulge in grief without a pause; we must divide ourselves between our affection within and the world without." "True, madam," I replied; "souls of the highest order are for the common property and advantage of the unhappythe lost wayfarer, the sick, the hungry pooreach has his claim for a share, for God has made them like the stars of heaven to give light and pleasure to all." The deepfringed eyelids veiled the blue eyes for a moment, while Sperver pressed my hand. Presently she pursued "Ah, if you could but restore my father's health!" "As I have had the pleasure to inform you, madam, the crisis is past; the return must be anticipated, if possible." "Do you hope that it may?" "With God's help, madam, it is not impossible; I will think carefully over it." Odile, much moved, came with me to the door. Sperver and I crossed the anteroom, where a few servants were waiting for the orders of their mistress. We had just entered the corridor when Gideon, who was walking first, turned quickly round, and, placing both his hands on my shoulders, said "Come, Fritz; I am to be depended upon for keeping a secret; what is your opinion?" "I think there is no cause of apprehension for tonight." "I know thatso you told the countessbut how about tomorrow?" "Tomorrow?" "Yes; don't turn round. I suppose you cannot prevent the return of the complaint; do you think, Fritz, he will die of it?" "It is possible, but hardly probable." "Well done!" cried the good man, springing from the ground with joy; "if you don't think so, that means that you are sure." And taking my arm, he drew me into the gallery. We had just reached it when the Baron of ZimmerBluderich and his groom appeared there also, marshalled by Sbalt with a lighted torch in his hand. They were on their way to their chambers, and those two figures, with their cloaks flung over their shoulders, their loose Hungarian boots up to the knees, the body closely girt with long darkgreen laced and frogged tunics, and the bearskin cap closely and warmly covering the head, were very picturesque objects by the flickering light of the pinetorch. "There," whispered Sperver, "if I am not very much mistaken, those are our Fribourg friends; they have followed very close upon our heels." "You are quite right they are the men; I recognise the younger by his tall, slender figure, his aquiline nose, and his long, drooping moustache." They disappeared through a side passage. Gideon took a torch from the wall, and guided me through quite a maze of corridors, aisles, narrow and wide passages, under high vaulted roofs and under lowbuilt arches; who could remember? There seemed no end. "Here is the hall of the margraves," said he; "here is the portraitgallery, and this is the chapel, where no mass has been said since Louis the Bold became a Protestant." All these particulars had very little interest for me. After reaching the end we had again to go down steps; at last we happily came to the end of our journey before a low massive door. Sperver took a huge key out of his pocket, and handing me the torch, said "Mind the lightlook out!" At the same time he pushed open the door, and the cold outside air rushed into the narrow passage. The torch flared and sent out a volley of sparks in all directions. I thought I saw a dark abyss before me, and recoiled with fear. "Ha, ha, ha!" cried the huntsman, opening his mouth from ear to ear, "you are surely not afraid, Fritz? Come on; don't be frightened! We are upon the parapet between the castle and the old tower." And my friend advanced to set me the example. The narrow granitewalled platform was deep in snow, swept in swirling banks by the angry winds. Any one who had seen our flaring torch from below would have asked, "What are they doing up there in the clouds? what can they want at this time of the night?" Perhaps, I thought within myself, the witch is looking up at us, and that idea gave me a fit of shuddering. I drew closer together the folds of my horseman's cloak, and with my hand upon my hat, I set off after Sperver at a run; he was raising the light above his head to show me the road, and was moving forward rapidly. We rushed into the tower and then into Hugh Lupus's chamber. A bright fire saluted us here with its cheerful rays; how delightful to be once more sheltered by thick walls! I had stopped while Sperver closed the door, and contemplating this ancient abode, I cried "Thank God! we shall rest now!" "With a wellfurnished table before us," added Gideon. "Don't stand there with your nose in the air, but rather consider what is before youa leg of a kid, a couple of roast fowls, a pike fresh caught, with parsley sauce; cold meats and hot wines, that's what I like. Kasper has attended to my orders like a real good fellow." Gideon spoke the truth. The meats were cold and the wines were warm, for in front of the fire stood a row of small bottles under the gentle influence of the heat. At the sight of these good things my appetite rose in me wonderfully. But Sperver, who understood what is comfortable, stopped me. "Fritz," said he, "don't let us be in too great a hurry; we have plenty of time; the fowls won't fly away. Your boots must hurt you. After eight hours on horseback it is pleasant to take off one's boots, that's my principle. Now sit down, put your boot between my knees; there goes one off, now the other, that's the way; now put your feet into these slippers, take off your cloak and throw this lighter coat over your shoulders. Now we are ready." And with his cheery summons I sat down with him to work, one on each side of the table, remembering the German proverb"Thirst comes from the evil one, but good wine from the Powers above." CHAPTER III. We ate with the vigorous appetite which ten hours in the snows of the Black Forest would be sure to provoke. Sperver making indiscriminate attacks upon the kid, the fowls, and the fish, murmured with his mouth full "The woods, the lakes and rivers, and the heathery hills are full of good things!" Then he leaned over the back of his chair, and laying his hand on the first bottle that came to hand, he added "And we have hills green in spring, purple in autumn when the grapes ripen. Your health, Fritz!" "Yours, Gideon!" We were a wonder to behold. We reciprocally admired each other. The fire crackled, the forks rattled, teeth were in full activity, bottles gurgled, glasses jingled, while outside the wintry blast, the high moaning mountain winds, were mournfully chanting the dirge of the year, that strange wailing hymn with which they accompany the shock of the tempest and the swift rush of the grey clouds charged with snow and hail, while the pale moon lights up the grim and ghastly battle scene. But we were snug under cover, and our appetite was fading away into history. Sperver had filled the "wieder komm," the "come again," with old wine of Brumberg; the sparkling froth fringed its ample borders; he presented it to me, saying "Drink the health of YeriHans, lord of Nideck. Drink to the last drop, and show them that you mean it!" Which was done. Then he filled it again, and repeating with a voice that reechoed among the old walls, "To the recovery of my noble master, the high and mighty lord of Nideck," he drained it also. Then a feeling of satisfied repletion stole gently over us, and we felt pleased with everything. I fell back in my chair, with my face directed to the ceiling, and my arms hanging lazily down. I began dreamily to consider what sort of a place I had got into. It was a low vaulted ceiling cut out of the live rock, almost ovenshaped, and hardly twelve feet high at the highest point. At the farther end I saw a sort of deep recess where lay my bed on the ground, and consisting, as I thought I could see, of a huge bearskin above, and I could not tell what below, and within this yet another smaller niche with a figure of the Virgin Mary carved out of the same granite, and crowned with a bunch of withered grass. "You are looking over your room," said Spencer. "Parbleu! it is none of the biggest or grandest, not quite like the rooms in the castle. We are now in Hugh Lupus's tower, a place as old as the mountain itself, going as far back as the days of Charlemagne. In those days, as you see, people had not yet learned to build arches high, round, or pointed. They worked right into the rock." "Well, for all that, you have put me in strange lodgings." "Don't be mistaken, Fritz; it is the place of honour. It is here that the count put all his most distinguished friends. Mind that Hugh Lupus's tower is the most honourable accommodation we have." "And who was Hugh Lupus?" "Why, Hugh the Wolf, to be sure. He was the head of the family of Nideck, a roughandready warrior, I can tell you. He came to settle up here with a score of horsemen and halberdiers of his following. They climbed up this rockthe highest rock amongst these mountains. You will see this tomorrow. They constructed this tower, and proclaimed, 'Now we are the masters! Woe befall the miserable wretches who shall pass without paying toll to us! We will tear the wool off their backs, and their hide too, if need be. From this watchtower we shall command a view of the far distance all round. The passes of the Rhthal, of Steinbach, Koche Plate, and of the whole line of the Black Forest are under our eye. Let the Jew pedlars and the dealers beware!' And the noble fellows did what they promised. Hugh the Wolf was at their head. Knapwurst told me all about it sitting up one night." "Who is Knapwurst?" "That little humpback who opened the gate for us. He is an odd fellow, Fritz, and almost lives in the library." "So you have a man of learning at Nideck?" "Yes, we have, the rascal! Instead of confining himself to the porter's lodge, his proper place, all the day over he is amongst the dusty books and parchments belonging to the family. He comes and goes along the shelves of the library just like a big cat. Knapwurst knows our story better than we know it ourselves. He would tell you the longest tales, Fritz, if you would only let him. He calls them chroniclesha, ha!" And Sperver, with the wine mounting a little into his head, began to laugh, he could hardly say why. "So then, Gideon, you call this tower, Hugh's tower the Hugh Lupus tower?" "Haven't I told you so already? What are you so astonished at?" "Nothing particular." "But you are. I can see it in your face. You are thinking of something strange. What is it?" "Oh, never mind! It is not the name of the tower which surprises me. What I am wondering at is, how it is that you, an old poacher, who had never lived anywhere since you were a boy but amongst the fir forests, between the snowy summits of the Wald Horn and the passes of the Rhthalyou who, during all your prime of life, thought it the finest of fun to laugh at the count's gamekeepers, and to scour the mountain paths of the Schwartzwald, and boat the bushes there, and breathe the free air, and bask in the bright sunshine amongst the hills and valleyshere I find you, at the end of sixteen years of such a life, shut up in this red granite hole. That is what surprises me and what I cannot understand. Come, Sperver, light your pipe, and tell me all about it." The old poacher took out of his leathern jacket a bit of a blackened pipe; he filled it at his leisure, gathered up in the hollow of his hand a live ember, which he placed upon the bowl of his pipe; then with his eyes dreamily cast up to the ceiling he answered meditatively "Old falcons, gerfalcons, and hawks, when they have long swept the plains, end their lives in a hole in a rock. Sure enough I am fond of the wide expanse of sky and land. I always was fond of it; but instead of perching by night upon a high branch of a tall tree, rocked by the wind, I now prefer to return to my cavern, to drink a glass, to pick a bone of venison, and dry my plumage before a warm fire. The Count of Nideck does not disdain Sperver, the old hawk, the true man of the woods. One evening, meeting me by moonlight, he frankly said to me, 'Old comrade, you hunt only by night. Come and hunt by day with me. You have a sharp beak and strong claws. Well, hunt away, if such is your nature; but hunt by my licence, for I am the eagle upon these mountains, and my name is Nideck!'" Sperver was silent a few minutes; then he resumed "That was just what suited me, and now I hunt as I used to do, and I quietly drink along with a friend my bottle of Affenthal or" At that moment there was a shock that made the door vibrate; Sperver stopped and listened. "It is a gust of wind," I said. "No, it is something else. Don't you hear the scratching of claws? It is a dog that has escaped. Open, Lieverl, open, Blitzen!" cried the huntsman, rising; but he had not gone a couple of steps when a formidablelooking hound of the Danish breed broke into the tower, and ran to lay his heavy paws on his master's shoulders, licking his beard and his cheeks with his long rosecoloured tongue, uttering all the while short barks and yelps expressive of his joy. Sperver had passed his arm round the dog's neck, and, turning to me, said "Fritz, what man could love me as this dog does? Do look at this head, these eyes, these teeth!" He uncovered the animal's teeth, displaying a set of fangs that would have pulled down and rent a buffalo. Then repelling him with difficulty, for the dog was redoubling his caresses "Down, Lieverl. I know you love me. If you did not, who would?" Never had I seen so tremendous a dog as this Lieverl. His height attained two feet and a half. He would have been a most formidable creature in an attack. His forehead was broad, flat, and covered with fine soft hair; his eye was keen, his paws of great length, his sides and legs a woven mass of muscles and nerves, broad over the back and shoulders, slender and tapering towards the hind legs. But he had no scent. If such monstrous and powerful hounds were endowed with the scent of the terrier there would soon be an end of game. Sperver had returned to his seat, and was passing his hand over Lieverl's massive head with pride, and enumerating to me his excellent qualities. Lieverl seemed to understand him. "See, Fritz, that dog will throttle a wolf with one snap of his jaws. For courage and strength, he is perfection. He is not five years old, but he is in his prime. I need not tell you that he is trained to hunt the boar. Every time we come across a herd of them I tremble for Lieverl; his attack is too straightforward, he flies on the game as straight as an arrow. That is why I am afraid of the brutes' tusks. Lie down, Lieverl, lie on your back!" The dog obeyed, and presented to view his fleshcoloured sides. "Look, Fritz, at that long white seam without any hair upon it from under the thigh right up to the chest. A boar did that. Poor creature! he was holding him fast by the ear and would not let go; we tracked the two by the blood. I was the first up with them. Seeing my Lieverl I gave a shout, I jumped off my horse, I caught him between my arms, flung him into my cloak, and brought him home. I was almost beside myself. Happily the vital parts had not been wounded. I sewed up his belly in spite of his howling and yelling, for he suffered fearfully; but in three days he was already licking his wound, and a dog who licks himself is already saved. You remember that, Lieverl, hey! and aren't we fonder of each other now than ever?" I was quite moved with the affection of the man for that dog, and of the dog for his master; they seemed to look into the very depths of each other's souls. The dog wagged his tail, and the man had tears in his eyes. Sperver went on "What amazing strength! Do you see, Fritz, he has burst his cord to get to mea rope of six strands; he found out my track and here he is! Here, Lieverl, catch!" And he threw to him the remains of the leg of kid. The jaws opened wide and closed again with a terrible crash, and Sperver, looking at me significantly, said "Fritz, if he were to grip you by your breeches you would not get away so easily!" "Nor any one else, I suppose." The dog went to stretch himself at his ease full length under the mantelshelf with the leg fast between his mighty paws. He began to tear it into pieces. Sperver looked at him out of the corner of his eye with great satisfaction. The bone was fast falling into small fragments in the powerful mill that was crashing it. Lieverl was partial to marrow! "Aha! Fritz, if you were requested to fetch that bone away from him, what would you say?" "I should think it a mission requiring extraordinary delicacy and tact." Then we broke out into a hearty laugh, and Sperver, seated in his leathern easy chair, with his left arm thrown back over his head, one of his manly legs over a stool, and the other in front of a huge log, which was dripping at its end with the oozing sap, and darted volumes of light grey smoke to the roof. I was still contemplating the dog, when, suddenly recollecting our broken conversation, I went on "Now, Sperver, you have not told me everything. When you left the mountain for the castle was it not on account of the death of Gertrude, your good, excellent wife?" Gideon frowned, and a tear dimmed his eye; he drew himself up, and shaking out the ashes of his pipe upon his thumbnail, he said "True, my wife is dead. That drove me from the woods. I could not look upon the valley of Roche Creuse without pain. I turned my flight in this direction I hunt less in the woods, and I can see it all from higher up, and if by chance the pack tails off in that direction I let them go. I turn back and try to think of something else." Sperver had grown taciturn. With his head drooped upon his breast, his eyes fixed on the stone floor, he sat silent. I felt sorry to have awoke these melancholy recollections in him. Then, my thoughts once more returning to the Black Plague grovelling in the snow, I felt a shivering of horror. How strange! just one word had sent us into a train of unhappy thoughts. A whole world of remembrances was called up by a chance. I know not how long this silence lasted, when a growl, deep, long, and terrible, like distant thunder, made us start. We looked at the dog. The halfgnawed bone was still between his forepaws, but with head raised high, ears cocked up, and flashing eye, he was listening intentlylistening to the silence as it were, and an angry quivering ran down the length of his back. Sperver and I fixed on each other anxious eyes; yet there was not a sound, not a breath outside, for the wind had gone down; nothing could be heard but the deep protracted growl which came from deep down the chest of the noble hound. Suddenly he sprang up and bounded impetuously against the wall with a hoarse, rough bark of fearful loudness. The walls reechoed just as if a clap of thunder had rattled the casements. Lieverl, with his head low down, seemed to want to see through the granite, and his lips drawn back from his teeth discovered them to the very gums, displaying two close rows of fangs white as ivory. Still he growled. For a moment he would stop abruptly with his nose snuffing close to the wall, next the floor, with strong respirations; then he would rise again in a fresh rage, and with his forepaws seemed as if he would break through the granite. We watched in silence without being able to understand what caused his excitement. Another yell of rage more terrible than the first made us spring from our seats. "Lieverl! what possesses you? Are you going mad?" He seized a log and began to sound the wall, which only returned the dead, hard sound of a wall of solid rock. There was no hollow in it; yet the dog stood in the posture of attack.


"Decidedly you must have been dreaming bad dreams," said the huntsman. "Come, lie down, and don't worry us any more with your nonsense." At that moment a noise outside reached our ears. The door opened, and the fat honest countenance of Tobias Offenloch with his lantern in one hand and his stick in the other, his threecornered hat on his head, appeared, smiling and jovial, in the opening. "Salut! l'honorable compagnie!" he cried as he entered; "what are you doing here?" "It was that rascal Lieverl who made all that row. Just fancyhe set himself up against that wall as if he smelt a thief. What could he mean?" "Why parbleu! he heard the dot, dot of my wooden leg, to be sure, stumping up the towerstairs," answered the jolly fellow, laughing. Then setting his lantern on the table "That will teach you, friend Gideon, to tie up your dogs. You are foolishly weak over your dogsvery foolishly. Those beasts of yours won't be satisfied till they have put us all out of doors. Just this minute I met Blitzen in the long gallery he sprang at my legsee there are the marks of his teeth in proof of what I say; and it is quite a new lega brute of a hound!" "Tie up my dogs! That's rather a new idea," said the huntsman. "Dogs tied up are good for nothing at all; they grow too wild. Besides, was not Lieverl tied up, after all? See his broken cord." "What I tell you is not on my own account. When they come near me I always hold up my stick and put my wooden leg foremostthat is my discipline. I say, dogs in their kennels, cats on the roof, and the people in the castle." Tobias sat down after thus delivering himself of his sentiments, and with both elbows on the table, his eyes expanding with delight, he confided to us that just now he was a bachelor. "You don't mean that!" "Yes, Marie Anne is sitting up with Gertrude in monseigneur's anteroom." "Then you are in no hurry to go away?" "No, none at all. I should like to stay in your company." "How unfortunate that you should have come in so late!" remarked Sperver; "all the bottles are empty." The disappointment of the discomfited majordomo excited my compassion. The poor man would so gladly have enjoyed his widowhood. But in spite of my endeavours to repress it a long yawn extended wide my mouth. "Well, another time," said he, rising. "What is only put off is not given up." And he took his lantern. "Good night, gentlemen." "Stopwait for me," cried Gideon. "I can see Fritz is sleepy; we will go down together." "Very gladly, Sperver; on our way we will have a word with Trumpf, the butler. He is downstairs with the rest, and Knapwurst is telling them tales." "All right. Good night, Fritz." "Good night, Gideon. Don't forget to send for me if the count is taken worse." "I will do as you wish. Lieverl, come." They went out, and as they were crossing the platform I could hear the Nideck clock strike eleven. I was tired out and soon fell asleep. CHAPTER IV. Daylight was beginning to tinge with bluish grey the only window in my dungeon tower when I was roused out of my niche in the granite by the prolonged distant notes of a hunting horn. There is nothing more sad and melancholy than the wail of this instrument when the day begins to struggle with the nightwhen not a sigh nor a sound besides comes to molest the solitary reign of silence; it is especially the last long note which spreads in widening waves over the immensity of the plain beneath, awaking the distant, faroff echoes amongst the mountains, that has in it a poetic element that stirs up the depths of the soul. Leaning upon my elbow in my bearskin I lay listening to the plaintive sound, which suggested something of the feudal ages. The contemplation of my chamber, the ancient den of the Wolf of Nideck, with its low, dark arch, threatening almost to come down to crush the occupant; and further on that small leaden window, just touching the ceiling, more wide than high, and deeply recessed in the wall, added to the reality of the impression. I arose quickly and ran to open the window wide. Then presented itself to my astonished eyes such a wondrous spectacle as no mortal tongue, no pen of man, can describethe wide prospect that the eagle, the denizen of the high Alps, sweeps with his far reaching ken every morning at the rising of the deep purple veil that overhung the horizon by night mountains farther off! mountains far away! and yet again in the blue distancemountains still, blending with the grey mists of the morning in the shadowy horizon!motionless billows that sink into peace and stillness in the blue distance of the plains of Lorraine. Such is a faint idea of the mighty scenery of the Vosges, boundless forests, silver lakes, dazzling crests, ridges, and peaks projecting their clear outlines upon the steelblue of the valleys clothed in snow. Beyond this, infinite space! Could any enthusiasm of poet or skill of painter attain the sublime elevation of such a scene as that? I stood mute with admiration. At every moment the details stood out more clearly in the advancing light of morning; hamlets, farmhouses, villages, seemed to rise and peep out of every undulation of the land. A little more attention brought more and more numerous objects into view. I had leaned out of my window rapt in contemplation for more than a quarter of an hour when a hand was laid lightly upon my shoulder; I turned round startled, when the calm figure and quiet smile of Gideon saluted me with "Guten Tag, Fritz! Good morning!" Then he also rested his arms on the window, smoking his short pipe. He extended his hand and said "Look, Fritz, and admire! You are a son of the Black Forest, and you must admire all that. Look there below; there is Roche Creuse. Do you see it? Don't you remember Gertrude? How far off those times seem now!" Sperver brushed away a tear. What could I say? We sat long contemplating and meditating over this grand spectacle. From time to time the old poacher, noticing me with my eyes fixed upon some distant object, would explain "That is the Wald Horn; this is the Tiefenthal; there's the fall of the Steinbach; it has stopped running now; it is hanging down in great fringed sheets, like the curtains over the shoulder of the Harberga cold winter's cloak! Down there is a path that leads to Fribourg; in a fortnight's time it will be difficult to trace it." Thus our time passed away. I could not tear myself away from so beautiful a prospect. A few birds of prey, with wings hollowed into a graceful curve sharppointed at each end, the fanshaped tail spread out, were silently sweeping round the rockhewn tower; herons flew unscathed above them, owing their safety from the grasp of the sharp claws and the tearing beak to the elevation of their flight. Not a cloud marred the beauty of the blue sky; all the snow had fallen to earth; once more the huntsman's horn awoke the echoes. "That is my friend Sbalt lamenting down there," said Sperver. "He knows everything about horses and dogs, and he sounds the hunter's horn better than any man in Germany. Listen, Fritz, how soft and mellow the notes are! Poor Sbalt! he is pining away over monseigneur's illness; he cannot hunt as he used to do. His only comfort is to get up every morning at sunrise on to the Altenberg and play the count's favourite airs. He thinks he shall be able to cure him that way!" Sperver, with the good taste of a man who appreciates beautiful scenery, had offered no interruption to my contemplations; but when, my eyes dazzled and swimming with so much light, I turned round to the darkness of the tower, he said to me "Fritz, it's all right; the count has had no fresh attack." These words brought me back to a sense of the realities of life. "Ah, I am very glad!" "It is all owing to you, Fritz." "What do you mean? I have not prescribed yet." "What signifies? You were there; that was enough." "You are only joking, Gideon! What is the use of my being present if I don't prescribe?" "Why, you bring him good luck!" I looked straight at him, but he was not even smiling! "Yes, Fritz, you are just a messenger of good; the last two years the lord had another attack the next day after the first, then a third and a fourth. You have put an end to that. What can be clearer?" "Well, to me it is not so very clear; on the contrary, it is very obscure." "We are never too old to learn," the good man went on. "Fritz, there are messengers of evil and there are messengers of good. Now that rascal Knapwurst, he is a sure messenger of ill. If ever I meet him as I am going out hunting I am sure of some misadventure; my gun misses fire, or I sprain my ankle, or a dog gets ripped up!all sorts of mischief come. So, being quite aware of this, I always try and set off at early daybreak, before that author of mischief, who sleeps like a dormouse, has opened his eyes; or else I slip out by a back way by the postern gate. Don't you see?" "I understand you very well, but your ideas seem to me very strange, Gideon." "You, Fritz," he went on, without noticing my interruption, "you are a most excellent lad; Heaven has covered your head with innumerable blessings; just one glance at your jolly countenance, your frank, clear eyes, your goodnatured smile, is enough to make any one happy. You positively bring good luck with you. I have always said so, and now would you like to have a proof?" "Yes, indeed I should. It would be worth while to know how much there is in me without my having any knowledge of it." "Well," said he, grasping my wrist, "look down there!" He pointed to a hillock at a couple of gunshots from the castle. "Do you see there a rock halfburied in the snow, with a ragged bush by its side?" "Quite well." "Do you see anything near?" "No." "Well, there is a reason for that. You have driven away the Black Plague! Every year at the second attack there she was holding her feet between her hands. By night she lighted a fire; she warmed herself and boiled roots. She bore a curse with her. This morning the very first thing which I did was to get up here. I climbed up the beacon tower; I looked well all round; the old hag was nowhere to be seen. I shaded my eyes with my hand. I looked up and down, right and left, and everywhere; not a sign of the creature anywhere. She had scented you evidently." And the good fellow, in a fit of enthusiasm, shook me warmly by the hand, crying with unchecked emotion "Ah, Fritz, how glad I am that I brought you here! The witch will be sold, eh?" Well, I confess I felt a little ashamed that I had been all my life such a very welldeserving young man without knowing anything of the circumstance myself. "So, Sperver," I said, "the count has spent a good night?" "A very good one." "Then I am very well pleased. Let us go down." We again traversed the high parapet, and I was now better able to examine this way of access, the ramparts of which arose from a prodigious depth; and they were extended along the sharp narrow ridge of the rock down to the very bottom of the valley. It was a long flight of jagged precipitous steps descending from the wolf's den, or rather eagle's nest, down to the deep valley below. Gazing down I felt giddy, and recoiling in alarm to the middle of the platform, I hastily descended down the path which led to the main building. We had already traversed several great corridors when a great open door stood before us. I looked in, and descried, at the top of a double ladder, the little gnome Knapwurst, whose strange appearance had struck me the night before. The hall itself attracted my attention by its imposing aspect. It was the receptacle of the archives of the house of Nideck, a high, dark, dusty apartment, with long Gothic windows, reaching from the angle of the ceiling to within a couple of yards from the floor. There were collected along spacious shelves, by the care of the old abbots, not only all the documents, titledeeds, and family genealogies of the house of Nideck, establishing their rights and their alliances, and connections with all the great historic families of Germany, but besides these there were all the chronicles of the Black Forest, the collected works of the old Minnesinger, and great folio volumes from the presses of Gutenberg and Faust, entitled to equal veneration on account of their remarkable history and of the enduring solidity of their binding. The deep shadows of the groined vaults, their arches divided by massive ribs, and descending partly down the cold grey walls, reminded one of the gloomy cloisters of the Middle Ages. And amidst these characteristic surroundings sat an ugly dwarf on the top of his ladder, with a rededged volume upon his bony knees, his head halfburied in a rough fur cap, small grey eyes, wide misshapen mouth, humps on back and shoulders, a most uninviting object, the familiar spiritthe rat, as Sperver would have itof this last refuge of all the learning belonging to the princely race of Nideck. But a truly historical importance belonged to this chamber in the long series of family portraits, filling almost entirely one side of the ancient library. All were there, men and women; from Hugh the Wolf to YeriHans, the present owner; from the first rough daub of barbarous times to the perfect work of the best modern painters. My attention was naturally drawn in that direction. Hugh I., a baldheaded figure, seemed to glare upon you like a wolf stealing upon you round the corner of a wood. His grey bloodshot eyes, his red beard, and his large hairy ears gave him a fearful and ferocious aspect. Next to him, like the lamb next to the wolf, was the portrait of a lady of youthful years, with gentle blue eyes, hands crossed on the breast over a book of devotions, and tresses of fair long silky hair encircling her sweet countenance with a glorious golden aureola. This picture struck me by its wonderful resemblance to Odile of Nideck. I have never seen anything more lovely and more charming than this old painting on wood, which was stiff enough indeed in its outline, but delightfully refreshing and ingenuous. I had examined this picture attentively for some minutes when another female portrait, hanging at its side, drew my attention reluctantly away. Here was a woman of the true Visigoth type, with a wide low forehead, yellowish eyes, prominent cheekbones, red hair, and a nose hooked like an eagle's beak. That woman must have been an excellent match for Hugh, thought I, and I began to consider the costume, which answered perfectly to the energy displayed in the head, for the right hand rested upon a sword, and an iron breastplate inclosed the figure. I should have some difficulty in expressing the thoughts which passed through my mind in the examination of these three portraits. My eye passed from the one to the other with singular curiosity. Sperver, standing at the library door, had aroused the attention of Knapwurst with a sharp whistle, which made that worthy send a glance in his direction, though it did not succeed in fetching him down from his elevation. "Is it me that you are whistling to like a dog?" said the dwarf. "I am, you vermin! It is an honour you don't deserve." "Just listen to me, Sperver," replied the little man with sublime scorn; "you cannot spit so high as my shoe!" which he contemptuously held out. "Suppose I were to come up?" "If you come up a single step I'll squash you flat with this volume!" Gideon laughed, and replied "Don't get angry, friend; I don't mean to do you any harm; on the contrary, I greatly respect you for your learning; but what I want to know is what you are doing here so early in the morning, by lamplight? You look as if you had spent the night here." "So I have; I have been reading all night." "Are not the days long enough for you to read in?" "No; I am following out an important inquiry, and I don't mean to sleep until I am satisfied." "Indeed; and what may this very important question be?" "I have to ascertain under what circumstances Ludwig of Nideck discovered my ancestor, Otto the Dwarf, in the forests of Thuringia. You know, Sperver, that my ancestor Otto was only a cubit highthat is, a foot and ahalf. He delighted the world with his wisdom, and made an honourable figure at the coronation of Duke Rudolphe. Count Ludwig had him inclosed in a cold roast peacock, served up in all his plumage. It was at that time one of the greatest delicacies, served up garnished all round with sucking pigs, gilded and silvered. During the banquet Otto kept spreading the peacock's tail, and all the lords, courtiers, and ladies of high birth were astonished and delighted at this wonderful piece of mechanism. At last he came out, sword in hand, and shouted with a loud voice"Long live Duke Rudolphe!" and the cry was repeated with acclamations by the whole table. Bernard Herzog makes mention of this event, but he has neglected to inform us where this dwarf came from, whether he was of lofty lineage or of base extraction, which latter, however, is very improbable, for the lower sort of people have not so much sense as that." I was astounded at so much pride in so diminutive a being, yet my curiosity prevented me from showing too much of my feelings, for he alone could supply me with information upon the portraits that accompanied that of Hugh Lupus. "Monsieur Knapwurst," I began very respectfully, "would you oblige me by enlightening me upon certain historic doubts?" "Speak, sir, without any constraint; on the subject of family history and chronicles I am entirely at your service. Other matters don't interest me." "I desire to learn some particulars respecting the two portraits on each side of the founder of this race." "Aha!" cried Knapwurst with a glow of satisfaction lighting up his hideous features; "you mean Hedwige and Huldine, the two wives of Hugh Lupus." And laying down his volume he descended from his ladder to speak more at his ease. His eyes glistened, and the delight of gratified vanity beamed from them as he displayed his vast erudition. When he had arrived at my side he bowed to me with ceremonious gravity. Sperver stood behind us, very well satisfied that I was admiring the dwarf of Nideck. In spite of the ill luck which, in his opinion, accompanied the little monster's appearance, he respected and boasted of his superior knowledge. "Sir," said Knapwurst, pointing with his yellow hand to the portraits, "Hugh of Nideck, the first of his illustrious race, married, in 832, Hedwige of Lutzelbourg, who brought to him in dowry the counties of Giromani and Haut Barr, the castles of Geroldseck, Teufelshorn, and others. Hugh Lupus had no issue by his first wife, who died young, in the year of our Lord 837. Then Hugh, having become lord and owner of the dowry, refused to give it up, and there were terrible battles between himself and his brothersinlaw. But his second wife, Huldine, whom you see there in a steel breastplate, aided him by her sage counsel. It is unknown whence or of what family she came, but for all that she saved Hugh's life, who had been made prisoner by Frantz of Lutzelbourg. He was to have been hanged that very day, and a gibbet had already been set up on the ramparts, when Huldine, at the head of her husband's vassals, whom she had armed and inspired with her own courage, bravely broke in, released Hugh, and hung Frantz in his place. Hugh had married his wife in 842, and had three children by her." "So," I resumed pensively, "the first of these wives was called Hedwige, and the descendants of Nideck are not related to her?" "Not at all." "Are you quite sure?" "I can show you our genealogical tree; Hedwige had no children; Huldine, the second wife, had three." "That is surprising to me." "Why so?" "I thought I traced a resemblance." "Oho! resemblance! Rubbish!" cried Knapwurst with a discordant laugh. "Seelook at this wooden snuffbox; in it you see a portrait of my greatgrandfather, Hanswurst. His nose is as long and as pointed as an extinguisher, and his jaws like nutcrackers. How does that affect his being the grandfather of meof a man with finelyformed features and an agreeable mouth?" "Oh no!of course not." "Well, so it is with the Nidecks. They may some of them be like Hedwige, but for all that Huldine is the head of their ancestry. See the genealogical tree. Now, sir, are you satisfied?" Then we separatedKnapwurst and Iexcellent friends. CHAPTER V. "Nevertheless," thought I, "there is the likeness. It is not chance. What is chance? There is no such thing; it is nonsense to talk of chance. It must be something higher!" I was following my friend Sperver, deep in thought, who had now resumed his walk down the corridor. The portrait of Hedwige, in all its artless simplicity, mingled in my mind with the face of Odile. Suddenly Gideon stopped, and, raising my eyes, I saw that we were standing before the count's door. "Come in, Fritz," he said, "and I will give the dogs a feed. When the master's away the servants neglect their duty; I will come for you byandby." I entered, more desirous of seeing the young lady than the count her father; I was blaming myself for my remissness, but there is no controlling one's interest and affections. I was much surprised to see in the halflight of the alcove the reclining figure of the count leaning upon his elbow and observing me with profound attention. I was so little prepared for this examination that I stood rather dispossessed of selfcommand. "Come nearer, monsieur le docteur," he said in a weak but firm voice, holding out his hand. "My faithful Sperver has often mentioned your name to me; and I was anxious to make your acquaintance." "Let us hope, my lord, that it will be continued under more favourable circumstances. A little patience, and we shall avert this attack." "I think not," he replied. "I feel my time drawing near." "You are mistaken, my lord." "No; Nature grants us, as a last favour, to have a presentiment of our approaching end." "How often I have seen such presentiments falsified!" I said with a smile. He fixed his eyes searchingly upon me, as is usual with patients expressing anxiety about their prospects. It is a difficult moment for the doctor. The moral strength of his patient depends upon the expression of the firmness of his convictions; the eye of the sufferer penetrates into the innermost soul of his consciousness; if he believes that he can discover any hint or shade of doubt, his fate is sealed; depression sets in; the secret springs that maintain the elasticity of the spirit give way, and the disorder has it all its own way. I stood my examination firmly and successfully, and the count seemed to regain confidence; he again pressed my hand, and resigned himself calmly and confidently to my treatment. Not until then did I perceive Mademoiselle Odile and an old lady, no doubt her governess, seated by her bedside at the other end of the alcove. They silently saluted me, and suddenly the picture in the library reappeared before me. "It is she," I said, "Hugh's first wife. There is the fair and noble brow, there are the long lashes, and that sad, unfathomable smile. Oh, how much past telling lies in a woman's smile! Seek not, then, for unmixed joy and pleasure! Her smile serves but to veil untold sorrows, anxiety for the future, even heartrending cares. The maid, the wife, the mother, smile and smile, even when the heart is breaking and the abyss is opening. O woman! this is thy part in the mortal struggle of human life!" I was pursuing these reflections when the lord of Nideck began to speak "If my dear child Odile would but consult my wishes I believe my health would return." I looked towards the young countess; she fixed her eyes on the floor, and seemed to be praying silently. "Yes," the sick man went on, "I should then return to life; the prospect of seeing myself surrounded by a young family, and of pressing grandchildren to my heart, and beholding the succession to my house, would revive me." At the mild and gentle tone of entreaty in which this was said I felt deeply moved with compassion; but the young lady made no reply. In a minute or two the count, who kept his watchful eyes upon her, went on "Odile, you refuse to make your father a happy man? I only ask for a faint hope. I fix no time. I won't limit your choice. We will go to court. There you will have a hundred opportunities of marrying with distinction and with honour. Who would not be proud to win my daughter's hand? You shall be perfectly free to decide for yourself." He paused. There is nothing more painful to a stranger than these family quarrels. There are such contending interests, so many private motives, at work, that mere modesty should make it our duty to place ourselves out of hearing of such discussions. I felt pained, and would gladly have retired. But the circumstances of the case forbade this. "My dear father," said Odile, as if to evade any further discussion, "you will get better. Heaven will not take you from those who love you. If you but knew the fervour with which I pray for you!" "That is not an answer," said the count drily. "What objection can you make to my proposal? Is it not fair and natural? Am I to be deprived of the consolations vouchsafed to the neediest and most wretched? You know I have acted towards you openly and frankly." "You have, my father." "Then give me your reason for your refusal." "My resolution is formedI have consecrated myself to God." So much firmness in so frail a being made me tremble. She stood like the sculptured Madonna in Hugh's tower, calm and immovable, however weak in appearance. The eyes of the count kindled with an ominous fire. I tried to make the young countess understand by signs how gladly I would hear her give the least hope, and calm his rising passion; but she seemed not to see me. "So," he cried in a smothered tone, as if he were strangling"so you will look on and see your father perish? A word would restore him to life, and you refuse to speak that one word?" "Life is not in the hand of man, for it is God's gift; my word can be of no avail." "Those are nothing but pious maxims," answered the count scornfully, "to release you from your plain duty. But has not God said, 'Honour thy father and thy mother?'" "I do honour you," she replied gently. "But it is my duty not to marry." I could hear the grinding and gnashing of the man's teeth. He lay apparently calm, but presently turned abruptly and cried "Leave me; the sight of you is offensive to me!" And addressing me as I stood by agitated with conflicting feelings "Doctor," he cried with a savage grin, "have you any violent malignant poison about you to give mesomething that will destroy me like a thunderbolt? It would be a mercy to poison me like a dog, rather than let me suffer as I am doing." His features writhed convulsively, his colour became livid. Odile rose and advanced to the door. "Stay!" he howled furiously"stay till I have cursed you!" So far I had stood by without speaking, not venturing to interfere between Father and Daughter, but now I could refrain no longer. "Monseigneur," I cried, "for the sake of your own health, for the sake of mere justice and fairness, do calm yourself; your life is at stake." "What matters my life? what matters the future? Is there a knife here to put an end to me? Let me die!" His excitement rose every minute. I seemed to dread lest in some frenzied moment he should spring from the bed and destroy his child's life. But she, calm though deadly pale, knelt at the door, which was standing open, and outside I could see Sperver, whose features betrayed the deepest anxiety. He drew near without noise, and bending towards Odile "Oh, mademoiselle!" he whispered"mademoiselle, the count is such a worthy, good man. If you would but just say only, 'Perhapsbyandbywe will see.'" She made no reply, and did not change her attitude. At this moment I persuaded the Lord of Nideck to take a few drops of Laudanum; he sank back with a sigh, and soon his panting and irregular breathing became more measured under the influence of a deep and heavy slumber. Odile arose, and her aged friend, who had not opened her lips, went out with her. Sperver and I watched their slowly retreating figures. There was a calm grandeur in the step of the young countess which seemed to express a consciousness of duty fulfilled. When she had disappeared down the long corridor Gideon turned towards me. "Well, Fritz," he said gravely, "what is your opinion?" I bent my head down without answering. This girl's incredible firmness astonished and bewildered me. CHAPTER VI. Sperver's indignation was mounting. "There's the happiness and felicity of the rich! What is the good of being master of Nideck, with castles, forests, lakes, and all the best parts of the Black Forest, when an innocent looking damsel comes and says to you in her sweet soft voice, 'Is that your will? Well, it is not mine. Do you say I must? Well, I say no, I won't.' Is it not awful? Would it not be better to be a woodcutter's son and live quietly upon the wages of your day's work? Come on, Fritz; let us be off. I am suffocating here; I want to get into the open air." And the good fellow, seizing my arm, dragged me down the corridor. It was now about nine. The sky had been fair when we got up, but now the clouds had again covered the dreary earth, the north wind was raising the snow in ghostly eddies against the windowpanes, and I could scarcely distinguish the summits of the neighbouring mountains. We were going down the stairs which led into the hall, when, at a turn in the corridor, we found ourselves face to face with Tobias Offenloch, the worthy majordomo, in a great state of palpitation. "Halloo!" he cried, closing our way with his stick right across the passage; "where are you off to in such a hurry? What about our breakfast?" "Breakfast! which breakfast do you mean?" asked Sperver. "What do you mean by pretending to forget what breakfast? Are not you and I to breakfast this very morning with Doctor Fritz?" "Aha! so we are! I had forgotten all about it." And Offenloch burst into a great laugh which divided his jolly face from ear to ear. "Ha, ha! this is rather beyond a joke. And I was afraid of being too late! Come, let us be moving. Kasper is upstairs waiting. I ordered him to lay the breakfast in your room; I thought we should be more comfortable there. Goodbye for the present, doctor." "Are you not coming up with us?" asked Sperver. "No, I am going to tell the countess that the Baron de ZimmerBluderich begs the honour to thank her in person before he leaves the castle." "The Baron de Zimmer?" "Yes, that stranger who came yesterday in the middle of the night." "Well, you must make haste." "Yes, I shall not be long. Before you have done uncorking the bottles I shall be with you again." And he hobbled away as fast as he could. The mention of breakfast had given a different turn to Sperver's thoughts. "Exactly so," he observed, turning back; "the best way to drown all your cares is to drink a draught of good wine. I am very glad we are going to breakfast in my room. Under those great high vaults in the fencingschool, sitting round a small table, you feel just like mice nibbling a nut in a corner of a big church. Here we are, Fritz. Just listen to the wind whistling through the arrowslits. In halfanhour there will be a storm." He pushed the door open; and Kasper, who was only drumming with his fingers upon the windowpanes, seemed very glad to see us. That little man had flaxen hair and a snub nose. Sperver had made him his factotum; it was he who took to pieces and cleaned his guns, mended the ridinghorses' harness, fed the dogs in his absence, and superintended in the kitchen the preparation of his favourite dishes. On grand occasions he was outrider. He now stood with a napkin over his arm, and was gravely uncorking the longnecked bottle of Rhenish.


"Kasper," said his master, as soon as he had surveyed this satisfactory state of things"Kasper, I was very well pleased with you yesterday; everything was excellent; the roast kid, the chicken, and the fish. I like fairplay, and when a man has done his duty I like to tell him so. Today I am quite as well satisfied. The boar's head looks excellent with its whitewine sauce; so does the crayfish soup. Isn't it your opinion too, Fritz?" I assented. "Well," said Sperver, "since it is so, you shall have the honour of filling our glasses. I mean to raise you step by step, for you are a very deserving fellow." Kasper looked down bashfully and blushed; he seemed to enjoy his master's praises. We took our places, and I was wondering at this quondam poacher, who in years gone by was content to cook his own potatoes in his cottage, now assuming all the airs of a great seigneur. Had he been born Lord of Nideck he could not have put on a more noble and dignified attitude at table. A single glance brought Kasper to his side, made him bring such and such a bottle, or bring the dish he required. We were just going to attack the boar's head when Master Tobias appeared in person, followed by no less a personage than the Baron of ZimmerBluderich, attended by his groom. We rose from our seats. The young baron advanced to meet us with head uncovered. It was a noblelooking head, pale and haughty, with a surrounding of fine dark hair. He stopped before Sperver. "Monsieur," said he in that pure Saxon accent which no other dialect can approach, "I am come to ask you for information as to this locality. Madame la Comtesse de Nideck tells me that no one knows these mountains so well as yourself." "That is quite true, monseigneur, and I am quite at your service." "Circumstances of great urgency oblige me to start in the midst of the storm," replied the baron, pointing to the windowpanes thickly covered with flakes of snow. "I must reach Wald Horn, six leagues from this place!" "That will be a hard matter, my lord, for all the roads are blocked up with snow." "I am aware of that, but necessity obliges." "You must have a guide, then. I will go, if you will allow me, to Sbalt Kraft, the head huntsman at Nideck. He knows the mountains almost as well as I do." "I am much obliged to you for your kind offers, and I am very grateful, but still I cannot accept them. Your instructions will be quite sufficient." Sperver bowed, then advancing to a window, he opened it wide. A furious blast of wind rushed in, driving the whirling snow as far as the corridor, and slammed the door with a crash. I remained by my chair, leaning on its back. Kasper slunk into a corner. Sperver and the baron, with his groom, stood at the open window. "Gentlemen," said Sperver with a loud voice to make himself heard above the howling winds, and with arm extended, "you see the country mapped out before you. If the weather was fair I would take you up into the tower, and then we could see the whole of the Black Forest at our feet, but it is no use now. Here you can see the peak of the Altenberg. Farther on behind that white ridge you may see the Wald Horn, beaten by a furious storm. You must make straight for the Wald Horn. From the summit of the rock, which seems formed like a mitre, and is called Roche Fendue, you will see three peaks, the Behrenkopp, the Geierstein, and the Trielfels. It is by this last one at the right that you must proceed. There is a torrent across the valley of the Rhthal, but it must be frozen now. In any case, if you can get no farther, you will find on your left, on following the bank, a cavern halfway up the hill, called Roche Creuse. You can spend the night there, and tomorrow very likely, if the wind falls, you will see the Wald Horn before you. If you are lucky enough to meet with a charcoalburner, he might, perhaps, show you where there is a ford over the stream; but I doubt whether one will be found anywhere on such a day as this. There are none from our neighbourhood. Only be careful to go right round the base of the Behrenkopp, for you could not get down the other side. It is a precipice." During these observations I was watching Sperver, whose clear, energetic tones indicated the different points in the road with the greatest precision, and I watched, too, the young baron, who was listening with the closest attention. No obstacle seemed to alarm him. The old groom seemed not less bent upon the enterprise. Just as they were leaving the window a momentary light broke through the grey snowcloudsjust one of those moments when the eddying wind lays hold of the falling clouds of snow and flings them back again like floating garments of white. Then for a moment there was a glimpse of the distance. The three peaks stood out behind the Altenberg. The description which Sperver had given of invisible objects became visible for a few moments; then the air again was veiled in ghostly clouds of flying snow. "Thank you," said the baron. "Now I have seen the point I am to make for; and, thanks to your explanations, I hope to reach it." Sperver bowed without answering. The young man and his servant, having saluted us, retired slowly and gravely. Gideon shut the window, and addressing Master Tobias and me, said "The deuce must be in the man to start off in such horrible weather as this. I could hardly turn out a wolf on such a day as this. However, it is their business, not mine. I seem to remember that young man's face, and his servant's too. Now let us drink! Matre Tobie, your health!" I had gone to the window, and as the Baron Zimmer and his groom mounted on horseback in the middle of the courtyard, in spite of the snow which was filling the air, I saw at the left in a turret, pierced with long Gothic windows, the pale countenance of Odile directed long and anxiously towards the young man. "Halloo, Fritz! what are you doing?" "I am only looking at those strangers' horses." "Oh, the Wallachians! I saw them this morning in the stable. They are splendid animals." The horsemen galloped away at full speed, and the curtain in the turretwindow dropped. CHAPTER VII. Several uneventful days followed. My life at Nideck was becoming dull and monotonous. Every morning there was the doleful buglecall of the huntsman, whose occupation was gone; then came a visit to the count; after that breakfast, with Sperver's interminable speculations upon the Black Plague, the incessant gossiping and chattering of Marie Lagoutte, Matre Tobias, and all that pack of idle servants, who had nothing to do but eat and drink, smoke, and go to sleep. The only man who had any kind of individual existence was Knapwurst, who sat buried up to the tip of his red nose in old chronicles all the day long, careless of the cold so long as there was anything left to find out in his curious researches. My weariness of all this may easily be imagined. Ten times had Sperver taken me over the stables and the kennels; the dogs were beginning to know me. I knew by heart all the coarse pleasantries of the majordomo over his bottles and Marie Lagoutte's invariable replies. Sbalt's melancholy was infecting me; I would gladly have blown a little on his horn to tell the mountains of my ennui, and my eyes were incessantly directed towards Fribourg. Still the disorder of YeriHans, lord of Nideck, was taking its usual course, and this gave my only occupation any serious interest. All the particulars which Sperver had made me acquainted with appeared clearly before me; sometimes the count, waking up with a start, would half rise, and supported on his elbow, with neck outstretched and haggard eyes, would mutter, "She is coming, she is coming!" Then Gideon would shake his head and ascend the signaltower, but neither right nor left could the Black Plague be discovered. After long reflection upon this strange malady I had come to the conclusion that the sufferer was insane. The strange influence that the old hag exercised over him, his alternate phases of madness and lucidity, all confirmed me in this view. Medical men who have given especial attention to the subject of mental aberrations are well aware that periodical madness is of not unfrequent occurrence. In some cases the illness appears several times in the year, in others at only particular seasons of the year. I know at Fribourg an old lady who for thirty years past has regularly presented herself at the door of the asylum. At her own request they place her in confinement; then the unhappy woman every night passes through the terrible scenes of the French Revolution, of which she was a witness in her youth. She trembles in the hands of the executioner; she fancies herself drenched with the blood of the victims; she weeps and cries aloud incessantly. In the course of a few weeks the mind returns to its wonted seat, and she is restored to liberty with the full expectation that she will return again in a year. "The Count of Nideck is suffering from a similar attack," I said; "unknown chains unite his fate with that of the Black Plague. Who can tell?" thought I; "that woman once was young, perhaps beautiful!" And my imagination, once launched, carried me into the interesting regions of romance; but I was careful to tell no one what I thought. If I had opened out those conjectures to Sperver he would never have forgiven me for imagining that there could have been any intimacy between his master and the Black Plague; and as for Mademoiselle Odile, I dared not suggest insanity to her. The poor young lady was evidently most unhappy. Her refusal to marry had so embittered the count against her that he could scarcely endure to have her in his presence. He bitterly reproached her with her ingratitude and disobedience, and expatiated upon the cruelty of ungrateful children. Sometimes even violent curses followed his daughter's visits. Things at last were so bad that I thought myself obliged to interfere. I therefore waited one evening on the countess in the antechamber and entreated her to relinquish her personal attendance upon her father. But here arose, contrary to all expectations, quite an unforeseen obstacle. In spite of all my entreaties she steadily insisted on watching by her father and nursing him as she had done hitherto. "It is my duty," she repeated, "and no arguments will shake my purpose," she said firmly. "Madam," I replied as a last effort, "the medical profession, too, has its duties, and an honourable man must fulfil them even to harshness and cruelty; your presence is killing your father." I shall remember all my life the sudden change in the expression of the face of Odile. My solemn words of warning seemed to cause the blood to flow back to the heart; her face became white as marble, and her large blue eyes, fixed steadily upon mine, seemed to read into the most secret recesses of my soul. "Is that possible, sir?" she stammered; "upon your honour, do you declare this? Tell me truly!" "Yes, madam, upon my honour." There was a long and painful silence, only broken at last by these words in a low voice "Let God's will be done!" And with downcast eyes she withdrew. The day after this scene, about eight in the morning, I was pacing up and down in Hugh Lupus's tower, thinking of the count's illness, of which I could not foretell the issueand I was thinking too of my patients at Fribourg, whom I might lose by too prolonged an absencewhen three discreet taps upon my door turned my thoughts into another channel. "Come in!" The door opened, and Marie Lagoutte stood within, dropping me a low curtsey. This old dame's visit put me out, and I was going to beg her to postpone her visit, when something mysterious in her countenance caught my attention. She had thrown over her shoulders a redandgreen shawl; she was biting her lips, with her head down, and as soon as she had closed the door she opened it again, and peeped out, to make sure that no one had followed her. "What does she want with me?" I thought; "what is the meaning of all these precautions?" And I was quite puzzled. "Monsieur le Docteur," said the worthy lady, advancing towards me, "I beg your pardon for disturbing you so early in the morning, but I have a very serious thing to tell you." "Pray tell me all about it, then." "It is the count." "Indeed!" "Yes, sir; you know that I sat up with him last night." "I know. Pray sit down." She sat before me in a great armchair, and I could not help noticing the energetic character of her head, which on the evening of my arrival at the castle had only seemed to me grotesque. "Doctor," she resumed after a short pause and with her dark eyes upon me, "you know I am not timid or easily frightened. I have seen so many dreadful things in the course of my life that I am astonished at nothing now. When you have seen Marengo, Austerlitz, and Moscow, there is nothing left that can put you out." "I am sure of that, ma'am." "I don't want to boast; that is not my reason for telling you this; but it is to show you that I am not an escaped lunatic, and that you may believe me when I tell you what I say I have seen." This was becoming interesting. "Well," the good woman resumed, "last night, between nine and ten, just as I was going to bed, Offenloch came in and said to me, 'Marie, you will have to sit up with the count tonight.' At first I felt surprised. 'What! is not mademoiselle going to sit up?' 'No, mademoiselle is poorly, and you will have to take her place.' Poor girl, she is ill; I knew that would be the end of it, I told her so a hundred times; but it is always so. Young people won't believe those who are older; and then, it is her Father. So I took my knitting, said good night to Tobias, and went into monseigneur's room. Sperver was there waiting for me, and went to bed; so there I was, all alone." Here the good woman stopped a moment, indulged in a pinch of snuff, and tried to arrange her thoughts. I listened with eager attention for what was coming. "About halfpast ten," she went on, "I was sitting near the bed, and from time to time drew the curtain to see what the count was doing; he made no movement; he was sleeping as quietly as a child. It was all right until eleven o'clock, then I began to feel tired. An old woman, sir, cannot help herselfshe must drop off to sleep in spite of everything. I did not think anything was going to happen, and I said to myself, 'He is sure to sleep till daylight.' About twelve the wind went down; the big windows had been rattling, but now they were quiet. I got up to see if anything was stirring outside. It was all as black as ink; so I came back to my armchair. I took another look at the patient; I saw that he had not stirred an inch, and I took up my knitting; but in a few minutes more I began nodding, nodding, and I dropped right off to sleep. I could not help it, the armchair was so soft and the room was so warm, who could have helped it? I had been asleep an hour, I suppose, when a sharp current of wind woke me up. I opened my eyes, and what do you think I saw? The tall middle window was wide open, the curtains were drawn, and there in the opening stood the count in his white nightdress, right on the windowsill." "The count?" "Yes." "Nay, it is impossible; he cannot move!" "So I thought too; but that is just how I saw him. He was standing with a torch in his hand; the night was so dark and the air so still that the flame stood up quite straight." I gazed upon Marie Anne with astonishment. "First of all," she said, after a moment's silence, "to see that long, thin man standing there with his bare legs, I can assure you it had such an effect upon me! I wanted to scream; but then I thought, 'Perhaps he is walking in his sleep; if I shout he will wake up, he will jump down, and then' So I did not say a word, but I stared and stared till I saw him lift up his torch in the air over his head, then he lowered it, then up again and down again, and he did this three times, just like a man making signals; then he threw it down upon the ramparts, shut the window, drew the curtains, passed before me without speaking, and got into bed muttering some words I could not make out." "Are you sure you saw all that, ma'am?" "Quite sure." "Well, it is strange." "I know it is; but it is true. Ah! it did astonish me at first, and then when I saw him get into bed again and cross his hands over his breast just as if nothing had happened, I said to myself, 'Marie Anne, you have had a bad dream; it cannot be true;' and so I went to the window, and there I saw the torch still burning; it had fallen into a bush near the third gate, and there it was shining just like a spark of fire. There was no denying it." Marie Lagoutte looked at me a few moments without speaking. "You may be sure, doctor, that after that I had no more sleep; I sat watching and ready for anything. Every moment I fancied I could hear something behind the armchair. I was not afraidit was not thatbut I was uneasy and restless. When morning came, very early I ran and woke Offenloch and sent him to the count. Passing down the corridor I noticed that there was no torch in the first ring, and I came down and found it near the narrow path to the Schwartzwald; there it is!" And the good woman took from under her apron the end of a torch, which she threw upon the table. I was confounded. How had that man, whom I had seen the night before feeble and exhausted, been able to rise, walk, lift up and close down that heavy window? What was the meaning of that signal by night? I seemed to myself to witness this strange, mysterious scene, and my thoughts went off at once to the Black Plague. When I aroused myself from this contemplation of my own thoughts, I saw Marie Lagoutte rising and preparing to go. "You have done quite right," I said as I took her to the door, "to tell me of these things, and I am much obliged to you. Have you told any one else of this adventure?" "No one, sir; such things are only to be told to the priest and the doctor." "Come, I see you are a very wise, sensible woman." These words were exchanged at the door of my tower. At this moment Sperver appeared at the end of the gallery, followed by his friend Sbalt. "Fritz!" he shouted, "I have got news to tell you." "Oh, come!" thought I, "more news! This is a strange condition of things." Marie Lagoutte had disappeared, and the huntsman and his friend entered the tower. CHAPTER VIII. On the countenance of Sperver was an expression of suppressed wrath, on that of his companion bitter irony. This worthy sportsman, whose woeful physiognomy had struck me on my first arrival at Nideck, was as thin and dry as a lath. His huntingjacket was girded tightly about him by his belt, from which hung a huntingknife with a horn handle; long leathern gaiters came above his knees; the horn went over his shoulder from right to left, the wideexpanded opening under his arm; on his head a widebrimmed hat, with a heron's plume in the buckle. His profile, coming to a point in a reddish tuft, looked not unlike a goat's. "Yes," cried Sperver, "I have got strange things to tell you." He threw himself in a chair, seizing his head between his clenched hands, while dismal Sbalt calmly drew his horn over his head and laid it on the table. "Now, Sbalt," cried Gideon, "speak out." "The witch is hanging about the castle." This piece of intelligence would have failed to interest me before seeing Marie Lagoutte, but now it struck more forcibly. There certainly was some mysterious connection between the lord of Nideck and that old woman. I knew nothing of the nature of this connection, and I felt that, at whatever cost, I must know it. "Just wait a moment, friends," said I to Sperver and his comrade. "I want to know, first of all, where does this Black Pest come from?" Sperver stared at me with astonishment. "Come from? Who can tell that?" "Very well, you can't. But when does she come within sight of Nideck?" "As I told you, ten days before Christmas, at the same time every year." "And how long does she stay?" "A fortnight or three weeks." "Is she ever seen before? Not even on her way? Nor after?" "No." "Then we shall have to catch her, seize upon her," I cried. "This is contrary to nature. We must find out where she comes from, what she wants here, what she is." "Lay hold of her!" exclaimed Sperver; "seize her! Do you mean it?" and he shook his head. "Fritz, your advice is good enough in its way, but it is easier said than done. I could very easily send a bullet after her, almost at any time; but the count won't consent to that measure; and as for catching in any other way than by powder and shot, why, you had better go first and catch a squirrel by the tail! Listen to Sbalt's story, and you shall judge for yourself." The master of the hounds, sitting on the table with his long legs crossed, fixed his eyes mournfully upon me, and began his tale. "This morning, as I was coming down from the Altenberg, I followed the hollow road to Nideck. The snow filled it up entirely. I was going on my way, thinking of nothing particular, when I noticed a foottrack; it was deep down, and went across the road. The person had come down the bank and gone up on the other side. It was not a soft hare's foot, which hardly leaves an impression, it was not forked like a wild boar's track, it was not like a cloven hoof, such as the wolf'sit was a deep hole. I stopped and stooped down, and cleared away the loose snow that fell round, and came upon the very track of the Black Pest!" "Are you sure it was that?" "Of course I am. I know the old woman by her foot better than by her figure, for I always go, sir, with my eyes on the ground. I know everybody by their tracks; and as for this one, a child might know it." "What, then, distinguishes this foot so particularly?" "It is so small that you could cover it with your hand; it is finely shaped, the heel is rather long, the outline clean, the great toe lies close to the other toes, and they are all as fine as if they were in a lady's slipper. It is a lovely foot. Twenty years ago I should have fallen in love with a foot like that. Whenever I come across it, it has such an effect upon me! No one would believe that such a foot could belong to the Black Plague." And the poor fellow, joining his hands together, contemplated the stone floor with doleful eyes. "Well, Sbalt, what next?" asked Sperver impatiently. "Ah, yes, to be sure! Well, I recognised that track and started off in pursuit. I was hoping to catch the creature in her lair, but I will tell you the way she took me. I climbed up the bank by the roadside, only two gunshots from Nideck. I go along the hill, keeping the track on my right; it led along the side of the wood in the Rhthal. All at once it jumps over the ditch into the wood. I stuck to it, but, happening to look a little to my left, I saw another track which had, been following the Black Plague. I stopped short was it Sperver's? or Kasper Trumpfs? or whose? I came to it, and you may fancy how astounded I was when I saw that it was nobody from our place! I know every foot in the Schwartzwald from Fribourg to Nideck. That foot was like none of ours. It must have come from a distance. The bootfor it was a kind of wellmade, soft gentleman's boot, with spurs, which leave a little print behind themthe boot was not round at the toes, but square. The sole was thin, and bent with every step, and it had no nails in it. The walk was rapid, and the short steps were like those of a young man of twenty to fiveandtwenty. I noticed the stitches in the side leather at once, and I think I never saw finer." "Who can this be?" Sperver exclaimed. Sbalt raised his shoulders and extended his hands, but said nothing. "Who can have any object in following the old woman?" I asked Sperver. "No one on earth can tell," was the reply. And so we sat a few minutes meditating over what we had heard. At last he went on again with his narrative "I kept following the track; it went up the next ridge through the pineforest. When it doubled round the Koche Fendue I said to myself, 'Ah, you accursed plague! If there was much game of your sort there would not be much sport; it would be preferable to work like a nigger!' So we all three arrivethe two tracks and Iat the top of the Schneberg. There the wind had been blowing hard; the snow was kneedeepbut no matter! I must get on! I got to the edge of the torrent of the Steinbach, and there I lost the track. I halted, and I saw that, after trying up and down in several directions, the gentleman's boots had gone down the Tiefenbach. That was a bad sign. I looked along the other side of the torrent, but there was no appearance of a track therenone at all! The old hag had paddled up and down the stream to throw any one off the scent who should try to follow her. Where was I to go to?right, or left, or straight on? Not knowing, I came back to Nideck." "You haven't told us about her breakfast," said Sperver. "No, I was forgetting. At the foot of Roche Fendue I saw there had been a fire; there was a black place; I laid my hand upon it, thinking it might be warm, which would have proved that the Black Plague had not gone far; but it was as cold as ice. Close by I saw a wire trap in the bushes. It seems the creature knows how to snare game. A hare had been caught in it; the print of its body was still plain, lying flat in the snow. The witch had lighted the fire to cook it; she had had a good breakfast, I'll be bound." At this Sperver cried indignantly "Just fancy that old witch living on meat while so many honest folks in our villages have nothing better than potatoes to eat! That's what upsets me, Fritz! Ah! if I had but" But his thoughts remained untold; he turned deadly pale, and all three of us, in a moment, stood rigid and motionless, staring with horror at each other's ghastly countenances. A yellthe howling cry of the wolf in the long, cold days of winterthe cry which none can imagine who has not heard the most fearful and harrowing of all bestial soundsthat fearful cry was echoing through the castle not far from us! It rose up the spiral staircase, it filled the massive building as if the hungry, savage beast was at our door! Travellers speak of the deep roar of the lion troubling the silence of the night amidst the rocky deserts of Africa; but while the tropical regions, sultry and baked, resound with the vibrations of the mighty voice of the savage monarch of the desert, making the air tremble with the distant thunder of his awful cry, the vast snowy deserts of the North too have their characteristic crya strange, lamentable yell that seems to suit the character of the dreary winter scene. That voice of the Northern desert is the howl of the wolf! The instant after this awful sound had broken upon the silence followed another formidable body of discordant soundsthe baying and yelling of sixty houndsanswering from the ramparts of Nideck. The whole pack gave voice at the same momentthe deep bay of the bloodhound, the sharp cry of the pointer, the plaintive yelpings of the spaniels, and the melancholy howl of the mastiffs, all mingling in confusion with the rattling of dogchains, the shaking of the kennels under the struggles of the hounds to get loose; and, dominating over all, the long, dismal, prolonged note of the wolf's monotonous howl; his was the leading part in this horrible canine concert! Sperver sprang from his seat and ran out upon the platform to see if a wolf had dropped into the moat. But nothe howling came from neither. Then turning to us he cried "Fritz! Sbalt!come, come quickly!" We flew down the steps four at a time and rushed into the fencingschool. Here we heard the cry of the wolf alone, prolonged beneath the echoing arches the distant barking and yelling of the pack became almost inaudible in the distance; the dogs were hoarse with rage and excitement, their chains were getting entangled together. Perhaps they were strangling each other. Sperver drew the keen blade of his huntingknife. Sbalt did the same; they preceded me down the gallery. Then the fearful sounds became our guide to the sick man's room. Sperver spoke no more; he hurried forward. Sbalt stretched his long legs. I felt a shuddering horror creep through my whole framea horrible presentiment of something shocking and abominable came over us. As we approached the apartments of the count we met the whole household afootthe gamekeepers, the huntsmen, the kennelkeepers, the scullions were all mingled and jostling each other, asking "What is the matter? Where are those cries coming from?" Without stopping we ran into the passage which led into the count's bedroom, where we met poor Marie Lagoutte, who alone had had the courage to penetrate thither before us. She was holding in her arms the young countess, who had fainted, her head falling back, her hair flowing down behind her; she was carrying her away as fast as she could. We passed her so rapidly that we scarcely had time to witness this sad sight. But it has since returned to my memory, and the pale face of Odile lying on the ample shoulders of the good servant still makes a vivid impression upon my memory, resembling the poor lamb presenting its throat to the knife without a complaint, dying with fear before the stroke falls. At last we had reached the count's chamber. The howling came from behind his door. We stole fearful glances at one another without attempting to account for the hideous noise, or explaining the presence of such a wild guest in the house. Indeed, we had no time; our ideas were in dire and utter confusion. Sperver hastily pushed the door open, and, knife in hand, was darting into the room; but he stood arrested on the threshold motionless as a stone. Never have I seen such a picture of horror as he displayed standing rooted there, with his eyes starting from his head, and his mouth wide open and gasping for breath. I gazed over his shoulder, and the sight that met my eyes made the blood run chill as snow in my veins. The lord of Nideck, crouching on all fours upon his bed, with his arms bending forward, his head carried low, his eyes glaring with fierce fires, was uttering loud, protracted howlings! He was the wolf! That low receding forehead, that sharppointed face, that foxylooking beard, bristling off both cheeks; the long meagre figure, the sinewy limbs, the face, the cry. The attitude, declared the presence of the wild beast halfhidden, halfrevealed under a human mask! At times he would stop for a second and listen attentively with head awry, and then the crimson hangings would tremble with the quivering of his limbs, like foliage shaken by the wind; then the melancholy wail would open afresh. Sperver, Sbalt, and I stood nailed to the floor; we held our breath, petrified with fear. Suddenly the count stopped. As a wild beast scents the wind, he lifted his head and listened again. There, there, far away, down among the thick fir forests, whitened with dense patches of snow, a cry was heard in replyweak at first; then the sound rose and swelled in a long protracted howl, drowning the feebler efforts of the hounds it was the shewolf answering the wolf! Sperver, turning round awestricken, his countenance pale as ashes, pointed to the mountain, and murmured low "Listenthere's the witch!" And the count still crouching motionless, but with his head now raised in the attitude of attention, his neck outstretched, his eyes burning, seemed to understand the meaning of that distant voice, lost amidst the passes and peaks of the Schwartzwald, and a kind of fearful joy gleamed in his savage features. At this moment, Sperver, unable or unwilling to restrain himself any longer, cried in a voice broken with emotion "Count of Nideckwhat are you doing?" The count fell back thunderstruck. We rushed into the room to his help. It was time. The third attack had commenced, and it was terrible to witness! CHAPTER IX. The lord of Nideck was in a dying state.