Eric said that the
animal would die of hunger in the woods, with its mouth so firmly
muzzled, Roland walked on for some time in silence. Suddenly he put his
hand into the basket, took out the other ferret and let it loose, then
took aim and shot it down; he left the dead creature lying undisturbed
in the wood, and walked home with Eric without a word. He looked long
at his gun; Eric knew that it would be many days before its report
would be heard again, and so it was.

From the time of this last hunt, a coldness and ill-humor, reluctance
and listlessness, appeared in Roland; he was not exactly rebellious,
but did everything without interest, and often looked strangely at
Eric.

Eric did not know what to do; for several days he was much disquieted,
feeling that he was no longer a novelty to Roland, and that the sense
of satiety which torments the rich, who never can long enjoy the same
thing, increased as it was in Roland by his wandering life, was
producing apathy and discontent in him; he must be taught to greet with
pleasure the day which brought no new thing, but only a repetition of
the day before.

The huntsman came to Eric, took him aside, and said:--

"I've found the ferret that ran away from us."

"Where?"

"In the wood yonder, there it lies with its muzzle on, starved to
death, and eaten up by the ants."

"We will say nothing of it to Roland."

"Certainly not. Do you know what the ferret's name was?"

"No."

"It was Knopf. He only called it 'master,' because you were present. It
always vexed me; Herr Knopf is certainly superstitious, dreadfully
superstitious, but one of the best men in the world. Roland has told
me in confidence, that, on the journey which he made to force you
to come back, a spirit appeared to him in the wood one morning, a
fairy-princess, as stupid, superstitious men would say,--a wonderful
child with light curling hair, but she spoke English,--only think,
spirits speak English too now,--she came to him early in the morning in
the forest. That's the sort of stuff Herr Knopf has put into his head.
I don't want to say anything against Herr Knopf; he's a good man, he
taught poor children for nothing, and did good, much good, but belief
in spirits and such nonsense ought to be put an end to. Don't you
notice how bad Roland looks now? I think the belief in spirits is to
blame for this. Drive it out of his mind right sharply."

Eric doubted whether this was what produced Roland's con