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Page 3
"Who I am? What! don't you remember Gideon Sperver, the Schwartzwald
huntsman? You would not be so ungrateful, would you? Was it not I who
taught you to set a trap, to lay wait for the foxes along the skirts of
the woods, to start the dogs after the wild birds? Do you remember me
now? Look at my left ear, with a frost-bite."
"Now I know you; that left ear of yours has done it; Shake hands."
Sperver, passing the back of his hand across his eyes, went on--
"You know Nideck?"
"Of course I do--by reputation; what have you to do there?"
"I am the count's chief huntsman."
"And who has sent you?"
"The young Countess Odile."
"Very good. How soon are we to start?"
"This moment. The matter is urgent; the old count is very ill, and his
daughter has begged me not to lose a moment. The horses are quite ready."
"But, Gideon, my dear fellow, just look out at the weather; it has been
snowing three days without cessation."
"Oh, nonsense; we are not going out boar-hunting; put on your thick coat,
buckle on your spurs, and let us prepare to start. I will order something
to eat first." And he went out, first adding, "Be sure to put on your
cape."
I could never refuse old Gideon anything; from my childhood he could do
anything with me with a nod or a sign; so I equipped myself and came into
the coffee-room.
"I knew," he said, "that you would not let me go back without you. Eat
every bit of this slice of ham, and let us drink a stirrup cup, for the
horses are getting impatient. I have had your portmanteau put in."
"My portmanteau! what is that for?"
"Yes, it will be all right; you will have to stay a few days at Nideck,
that is indispensable, and I will tell you why presently."
So we went down into the courtyard.
At that moment two horsemen arrived, evidently tired out with riding,
their horses in a perfect lather of foam. Sperver, who had always been
a great admirer of a fine horse, expressed his surprise and admiration
at these splendid animals.
"What beauties! They are of the Wallachian breed, I can see, as finely
formed as deer, and as swift. Nicholas, throw a cloth over them quickly,
or they will take cold."
The travellers, muffled in Siberian furs, passed close by us just as we
were going to mount. I could only discern the long brown moustache of
one, and his singularly bright and sparkling eyes.
They entered the hotel.
The groom was holding our horses by the bridle. He wished us _bon
voyage_, removed his hand, and we were off.
Sperver rode a pure Mecklemburg. I was mounted on a stout cob bred in the
Ardennes, full of fire; we flew over the snowy ground. In ten minutes we
had left Fribourg behind us.
The sky was beginning to clear up. As far as the eye could reach we could
distinguish neither road, path, nor track. Our only company were the
ravens of the Black Forest spreading their hollow wings wide over the
banks of snow, trying one place after another unsuccessfully for food,
and croaking, "Misery! misery!"
Gideon, with his weather-beaten countenance, his fur cloak and cap,
galloped on ahead, whistling airs from the _Freysch�tz_; sometimes as he
turned I could see the sparkling drops of moisture hanging from his long
moustache.
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