ve strung them up without mercy; our count winks at them; he even
turns them into gamekeepers. Look at Sperver! why, if Count Ludwig was
alive, Sperver's bones would long ago have been rattling in chains;
instead of which he is head huntsman at the castle."

All my theories were now in a state of disorganisation. I laid my head
between my hands and thought a long while.

Knapwurst, supposing that I was asleep, had turned to his folio again.

The grey dawn was now peeping in, and the lamp turning pale. Indistinct
voices were audible in the castle.

Suddenly there was a noise of hurried steps outside. I saw some one pass
before the window, the door opened abruptly, and Gideon appeared at the
threshold.

CHAPTER XI.

Sperver's pale face and glowing eyes announced that events were on their
way. Yet he was calm, and did not seem surprised at my presence in
Knapwurst's room.

"Fritz," he said briefly, "I am come to fetch you." I rose without
answering and followed him. Scarcely were we out of the hut when he took
me by the arm and drew me on to the castle.

"Mademoiselle Odile wants to see you," he whispered.

"What! is she ill?"

"No, she is much better, but something or other that is strange is going
on. This morning about one o'clock, thinking that the count was nearly
breathing his last, I went to wake the countess; with my hand on the bell
my heart failed me. 'Why should I break her heart?' I said to myself,
'She will learn her misfortune only too soon; and then to wake her up in
the middle of the night, weak and frail as she is, after such shocks,
might kill her at a stroke.' I took a few minutes to consider, and then I
resolved I would take it all on myself. I returned to the count's room. I
looked in--not a soul was there! Impossible! the man was in the last
agonies of death. I ran into the corridor like a madman. No one was
there! Into the long gallery--no one! Then I lost my presence of mind,
and rushing again into the young countess's room, I rang again. This time
she appeared, crying out--'Is my father dead?' 'No.' 'Has he
disappeared?' 'Yes, madam. I had gone out for a minute--when I came in
again--' 'And Doctor Fritz, where is he?' 'In Hugh Lupus's tower.' 'In
_that_ tower?' She started. She threw a dressing-gown around her, took
her lamp, and went out. I stayed behind. A quarter of an hour after she
came back, her feet covered with snow, and so pale and so cold! She set
her lamp upon the chi