true German phlegm, and
gave me the 'Guten Tag,' with all the grave unconcern of a 'Badener.' I
asked if the Count de Marsanne lived there. He said yes, but the 'Graf'
was out hunting. When would he be back? By nightfall.

Could I remain there till his return? was my next question; and he
stared at me as I put it, with some surprise. 'Warum nicht?' 'Why not?'
was at last his sententious answer, as he made way for me beside the
stove. I saw at once that my appearance had evidently not entitled me to
any peculiar degree of deference or respect, and that the man regarded
me as his equal. It was true I had come some miles on foot, and with a
knapsack on my shoulder, so that the peasant was fully warranted in his
reception of me. I accordingly seated myself at his side, and lighting
my pipe from his, proceeded to derive all the profit I could from
drawing him into conversation. I might have spared myself the trouble.
Whether the source lay in stupidity or sharpness, he evaded me on every
point. Not a single particle of information could I obtain about the
count, his habits, or his history. He would not even tell me how long he
had resided there, nor whence he had come. He liked hunting, and so did
the other 'Herren.' There was the whole I could scan; and to the simple
fact that there were others with him, did I find myself limited.

Curious to see something of the count's 'interior,' I hinted to my
companion that I had come on purpose to visit his master, and suggested
the propriety of my awaiting his arrival in a more suitable place; but
he turned a deaf ear to the hint, and dryly remarked that the 'Graf
would not be long a-coming now.' This prediction was, however, not to
be verified; the dreary hours of the dull day stole heavily on, and
although I tried to beguile the time by lounging about the place,
the cold ungenial weather drove me back to the stove, or to the dark
precinct of the stable, tenanted by three coarse ponies of the mountain
breed.

One of these was the Grafs favourite, the peasant told me; and indeed
here he showed some disposition to become communicative, narrating
various gifts and qualities of the unseemly looking animal, which, in
his eyes, was a paragon of horse-flesh. 'He could travel from here to
Kehl and back in a day, and has often done it,' was one meed of praise
that he bestowed; a fact which impressed me more as regarded the rider
than the beast, and set my curiosity at work to think why an