ce, there was a boat with people and beasts
aboard, and now the boat reached the shore. Baum's companion turned to
the other side, where there were a few scattered farmhouses and
fishermen's huts. Man and beast were worn out and needed rest. Baum
asked every one he met whether they had seen a lady in a blue
riding-habit and wearing a hat with a feather; but he could find no
trace of her anywhere.

"Stop!" at last said a little old man who was cutting willows by the
lake: "I've seen her."

"Where? When?"

"Over there in the tavern. It's almost a year ago; she lived there a
good many weeks."

Baum cursed the peasant folk for a stupid set.

Fortunately, he met a gend'arme and told him who he was and whom he was
looking for. He then sent the groom back to Wildenort with the lady's
saddle. Placing his own saddle on Pluto, he rode along the edge of the
lake with the gend'arme. On a rock near the shore, they soon saw a
figure holding out a hat with a feather on it. They made for the spot,
at full speed, Baum recognized his brother Thomas, and was so startled
that he lost his stirrup.

If it were he who had robbed and murdered the countess!

The gend'arme knew the wild fellow. Thomas stared and grinned at them
both. His hair was wet and his clothes were dripping.

"What are you doing there?" cried the gend'arme. "Whose hat is that?"

"That's none of your business," replied Thomas, his teeth chattering
with the cold.

Baum offered the shivering man his brandy flask, and Thomas took a long
draught. Then, with mingled rage and sorrow, he told them that the
king's sweetheart had lost her way the night before and had come to
their hut, and that she had led away his sister to plunge into the lake
with her. He had come too late; he had seen something floating on the
water and had jumped in to save her, but the hat was all he had found.

The gend'arme was not inclined to believe Thomas's story, and would
have arrested him forthwith, if Baum had not whispered to him that
there was no doubt that the lady had drowned herself, and that there
was no murder in the case. He was moved by a feeling akin to pity for
his brother, and did not wish to have him arrested.

"Come here!" said Baum to Thomas. "Let's make an exchange. I'll give
you my flask--there's a good deal in it yet--for the hat."

"Oh no! I know who the hat belongs to: it's worth a lot, and I'll take
it to the king."

"He still has got his sweethe