eaves 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
fencing-school, 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 arrow-slits. In
half-an-hour there will be a storm."

He pushed the door open; and Kasper, who was only drumming with his
fingers upon the window-panes, 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
riding-horses' 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 long-necked 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 fair-play, and when a man has done his duty I like to tell him so.
To-day I am quite as well satisfied. The boar's head looks excellent with
its white-wine 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.