You know Nideck, the finest baronial castle in
the country, a grand monument of the glory of our forefathers?"
Now I had not seen Sperver, who was my foster-father, for sixteen years;
he had grown a full beard in that time, a huge fox-skin cap covered his
head, and he was holding his lantern close under my nose. It was,
therefore, only natural that I should answer--
"In the first place let us do things in order. Tell me who you are."
"Who I am? What! don't you remember Gideon Sperver, the Schwartzwald
huntsman? You would not be so ungrateful, would you? Was it not I who
taught you to set a trap, to lay wait for the foxes along the skirts of
the woods, to start the dogs after the wild birds? Do you remember me
now? Look at my left ear, with a frost-bite."
"Now I know you; that left ear of yours has done it; Shake hands."
Sperver, passing the back of his hand across his eyes, went on--
"You know Nideck?"
"Of course I do--by reputation; what have you to do there?"
"I am the count's chief huntsman."
"And who has sent you?"
"The young Countess Odile."
"Very good. How soon are we to start?"
"This moment.
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