The Erckmann-Chatrian Megapack: 20 Classic Novels and Short Stories by Émile Erckmann, Alexandre Chatrian

eyes for a moment, while Sperver pressed my hand.
    Presently she pursued—
    “Ah, if you could but restore my father’s health!”
    “As I have had the pleasure to inform you, madam, the crisis is past; the return must be anticipated, if possible.”
    “Do you hope that it may?”
    “With God’s help, madam, it is not impossible; I will think carefully over it.”
    Odile, much moved, came with me to the door. Sperver and I crossed the ante-room, where a few servants were waiting for the orders of their mistress. We had just entered the corridor when Gideon, who was walking first, turned quickly round, and, placing both his hands on my shoulders, said—
    “Come, Fritz; I am to be depended upon for keeping a secret; what is your opinion?”
    “I think there is no cause of apprehension for to-night.”
    “I know that—so you told the countess—but how about to-morrow?”
    “To-morrow?”
    “Yes; don’t turn round. I suppose you cannot prevent the return of the complaint; do you think, Fritz, he will die of it?”
    “It is possible, but hardly probable.”
    “Well done!” cried the good man, springing from the ground with joy; “if you don’t think so, that means that you are sure.”
    And taking my arm, he drew me into the gallery. We had just reached it when the Baron of Zimmer-Bluderich and his groom appeared there also, marshalled by Sébalt with a lighted torch in his hand. They were on their way to their chambers, and those two figures, with their cloaks flung over their shoulders, their loose Hungarian boots up to the knees, the body closely girt with long dark-green laced and frogged tunics, and the bear-skin cap closely and warmly covering the head, were very picturesque objects by the flickering light of the pine-torch.
    “There,” whispered Sperver, “if I am not very much mistaken, those are our Fribourg friends; they have followed very close upon our heels.”
    “You are quite right: they are the men; I recognise the younger by his tall, slender figure, his aquiline nose, and his long, drooping moustache.”
    They disappeared through a side passage.
    Gideon took a torch from the wall, and guided me through quite a maze of corridors, aisles, narrow and wide passages, under high vaulted roofs and under low-built arches; who could remember? There seemed no end.
    “Here is the hall of the margraves,” said he; “here is the portrait-gallery, and this is the chapel, where no mass has been said since Louis the Bold became a Protestant.”
    All these particulars had very little interest for me.
    After reaching the end we had again to go down steps; at last we happily came to the end of our journey before a low massive door. Sperver took a huge key out of his pocket, and handing me the torch, said—
    “Mind the light—look out!”
    At the same time he pushed open the door, and the cold outside air rushed into the narrow passage. The torch flared and sent out a volley of sparks in all directions. I thought I saw a dark abyss before me, and recoiled with fear.
    “Ha, ha, ha!” cried the huntsman, opening his mouth from ear to ear, “you are surely not afraid, Fritz? Come on; don’t be frightened! We are upon the parapet between the castle and the old tower.”
    And my friend advanced to set me the example.
    The narrow granite-walled platform was deep in snow, swept in swirling banks by the angry winds. Any one who had seen our flaring torch from below would have asked, “What are they doing up there in the clouds? what can they want at this time of the night?”
    Perhaps, I thought within myself, the witch is looking up at us, and that idea gave me a fit of shuddering. I drew closer together the folds of my horseman’s cloak, and with my hand upon my hat, I set off after Sperver at a run; he was raising the light above his head to show me the road, and was moving forward rapidly.
    We rushed into the tower and then into Hugh Lupus’s chamber. A bright fire saluted us here with its cheerful