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Page 28
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 Rh�thal, 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 half-way up the hill, called Roche Creuse.
You can spend the night there, and to-morrow very likely, if the wind
falls, you will see the Wald Horn before you. If you are lucky enough to
meet with a charcoal-burner, 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 snow-clouds--just 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! Ma�tre 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
turret-window dropped.
CHAPTER VII.
Several uneventful days followed. My life at Nideck was becoming dull
and monotonous. Every morning there was the doleful bugle-call 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,
Ma�tre 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.
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