"Have you learned Latin, Knapwurst?" I asked him.

"Yes, monsieur," he replied, "I taught myself Latin and Greek. Old grammars were enough,--some of the Count's thrown into the ash-barrel; they fell into my hands and I devoured them. Some time after, the Lord of Nideck having chanced to hear me make some Latin quotation was surprised.

"'Who taught you Latin, Knapwurst?' he asked.

"'I taught myself, monseigneur.'

"He asked me some questions, which I answered pretty well.

"'By Jove!' he cried, 'Knapwurst knows more than I do! He shall keep my archives.'

"And he gave me the key to the archive chamber. During the thirty years since then, I have read every page. Sometimes the Count, seeing me on my ladder, stops a minute and says to me:

"'Ha! ha! What are you doing up there, Knapwurst?'

"'I am reading the family records, monseigneur.'

"'And you enjoy it?'

"'Very much, monseigneur.'

"'Well, well! I am glad to hear it; if it weren't for you, Knapwurst, who would know of the glory of the Nidecks?' and he goes off laughing. I do as I please here!"

"He is a good master then?"

"Oh, monsieur, what a heart, and what kindness!" exclaimed the dwarf, clasping his hands. "He has but one fault."

"And what is that?"

"He has no ambition."

"How so?"

"Why, he could have attained to anything. A Nideck! One of the most ill.u.s.trious families of Germany! Think of that, monsieur! He had only to choose; he might have been a minister or a field-marshal. But no! In his youth he retired from political life. With the exception of a campaign that he conducted in France, at the head of a regiment which he raised by his own exertions--with this exception, he has always lived far from noise and strife, simple and almost unknown, only interesting himself in his hunting."

These details were of the greatest interest to me. The conversation was taking, of its own accord, the direction that I most wished, and I resolved to profit by my opportunity.

"The Count has never had any great pa.s.sions in his life, then?" I asked.

"None, monsieur; and that is the pity, for n.o.ble pa.s.sions make the renown of great families. It is a misfortune for the member of a n.o.ble race to be devoid of ambition. He allows his family to degenerate. I could cite many examples in proof of what I say. That which would be the pride of the tradesman's family, would be the ruin of the ill.u.s.trious."

I was amazed; all my speculations regarding the Count's past life were fast being disproved.

"However, the Count has met with many reverses, has he not?"

"Of what nature?"

"He has lost his wife?"

"Yes, you are right; his wife was an angel. He married her for love; she was a daughter of one the oldest and n.o.blest families of Alsace, but ruined by the Revolution. The Countess Odette was her husband's sole happiness. She died of a lingering illness that lasted over the s.p.a.ce of five years; every means was resorted to to save her life. They travelled together in Italy, but she returned worse than she went, and succ.u.mbed some three weeks after their return. The Count came near dying himself of a broken heart. For two years he shut himself up and would see n.o.body. His dogs and horses were neglected. Time at length calmed his grief, but there has ever been something here." (The dwarf laid his finger on his heart.) "You understand; it is a bleeding wound. Old wounds pain us in change of weather, and old griefs, too, when the flowers spring up above the tomb, and in autumn when the dead leaves cover the ground. The Count has never wished to marry again; his daughter is the sole object of his affection."

"So this marriage was always a happy one?"

"Happy? It was a blessing for everybody!"

I was silent. Evidently the Count had not committed, could not have committed, a crime. I was obliged to yield to the weight of evidence; but then that nocturnal scene, these strange relations with the Black Plague, that horrible pantomime and the remorse in a dream which forced the couple to betray their past--what did it all mean? I became lost in thought.

Knapwurst relighted his pipe and reached me one, which I accepted. The chill which had seized me had by this time pa.s.sed away. I was experiencing that delicious period of inaction which follows the fatigue caused by unusual exertions, when, sprawled out in a big armchair in the chimney-corner and enveloped in a cloud of smoke, you abandon yourself to the pleasure of repose and listen to the blending of the cricket's chant with the unearthly singing of the green log on the hearth. We sat thus for a quarter of an hour.

"The Count sometimes gets angry with his daughter," I ventured to remark. Knapwurst started, and fixing on me a suspicious, almost hostile look, replied:

"I know, I know!"

I watched him with a sidelong glance, thinking that I might learn something new, but he added ironically:

"The towers of Nideck are high, and slander flies too low to reach them!"

"Undoubtedly; but it is a fact, nevertheless, is it not?"

"Yes; but this is a mere crotchet, an effect of his malady. Once the crisis is pa.s.sed, all his affection for the Countess Odile returns. It is curious, monsieur, a lover of twenty years could not be more devoted, more affectionate than he. This young woman is his one joy and pride.

Only fancy, no less than a dozen times I have seen him ride off to get her a dress, or flowers, or some like trifle. He would not entrust this commission to any one, not even to his faithful Sperver. The Countess does not even dare to express a wish in his presence, lest he should commit some new extravagance. In a word, monsieur, I a.s.sure you that the Count of Nideck is the worthiest of men, the tenderest of fathers, and the best of masters. As for the poachers who ravaged his forests, the old Count Ludwig would have hanged them without mercy; but our Count tolerates them; he even makes them his gamekeepers. Take Sperver, for instance! If Count Ludwig was still alive, Sperver's bones would be clicking together like castanets, at the end of a rope, while as it is, he is the steward and man-of-affairs at the Castle."

My theories were fast falling to the ground. I rested my head between my hands and thought for a long time. Knapwurst, supposing that I was asleep, had resumed his reading. The gray dawn appeared through the tiny panes; the lamplight paled, and vague murmurs arose within the Castle.

Suddenly footsteps sounded outside, some one pa.s.sed before the window, the door opened abruptly, and Gideon appeared on the threshold.

CHAPTER XI.

I AM SUMMONED TO THE COUNTESS' CHAMBER, AND MAKE A CONFESSION.

Sperver's pale face and rapid glance intimated that something unusual was happening; nevertheless, he was calm and did not appear surprised at my presence in Knapwurst's room.

"Gaston," he said briefly, "I have come to get you!"

I rose without replying and followed him. No sooner had we left the lodge than he seized me by the arm and drew me hastily towards the Castle.

"The Countess Odile wants to speak to you," he whispered.

"The Countess! Is she ill?"

"No, she is quite recovered, but something unusual is going on. This morning at about one o'clock, thinking that the Count was about to breathe his last, I went to wake the Countess, but as I was on the point of ringing, my heart failed me. 'Why should I fill her with despair?' I asked myself. 'She will learn of her misfortune soon enough; and then to wake her up in the middle of the night, when she is so frail and broken by so much sorrow, might prove her own death-blow.' I stood some minutes reflecting what course to pursue, and at last I decided to take the responsibility upon myself, and I returned to the Count's room. I looked about; no one was there. Impossible! the man was in his last agonies! I ran along the corridor like a madman; no one was to be seen! I entered the gallery; no one there! Then I lost my head and rushed again to the Countess Odile's chamber. This time I rang. She appeared in tears.

"'My father is dead?'

"'No, madame!'