I was obliged to yield to evidence. But,
then, what was the meaning of that scene at night, that strange
connection with the Black Pest, that fearful acting, that remorse in
a dream, which impelled the guilty to betray their past atrocities?
I lost myself in vain conjectures.
Knapwurst relighted his pipe, and handed me one, which I accepted.
By that time the icy numbness which had laid hold of me had nearly passed
away, and I was enjoying that pleasant sense of relief which follows
great fatigue when by the chimney-corner in a comfortable easy-chair,
veiled in wreaths of tobacco-smoke, you yield to the luxury of repose,
and listen idly to the duet between the chirping of a cricket on the
hearth and the hissing of the burning log.
So we sat for a quarter of an hour.
At last I ventured to remark--
"But sometimes the count gets angry with his daughter?"
Knapwurst started, and fixing a sinister, almost a fierce and hostile eye
upon me, answered--
"I know, I know!"
I watched him narrowly, thinking I might learn something now in support
of my theory, but he simply added ironically--
"The towers of Nideck are high, and slander flies too low to reach their
elevation!"
"No doubt; but still it is a fact, is it not?"
"Oh yes, so it is; but after all it is only a craze, an effect of his
complaint.
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