The Count of Nideck / adapted from the French of Erckmann-Chartrian

AND THE COUNT WAS STANDING UPRIGHT ON THE WINDOW-SILL.
Copyright, 1897
By L. C. Page and Company
Towards Christmas time, in the year 1780, as I lay soundly sleeping in my room at the Swan Tavern, in Tübingen, old Gideon Sperver burst suddenly into my room, crying, Gaston, my boy, I have come to take you back with me to the Castle! You know Nideck, twenty miles from here,—the estate of my master, the Count of Nideck!
My failure to respond was perhaps due to the fact that I had not seen my worthy foster-father for twenty years, that in this time he had grown a full beard, and that now, in my half-aroused condition, he appeared before me thus, with a huge fur cap pulled down over his ears, and holding an ill-smelling lantern just under my nose.
In the first place, I replied, let's take up things in their proper order. Who are you?
Who am I? repeated the good fellow, with such genuine surprise and distress in his tones that I felt a somewhat embarrassing sense of ingratitude. What! Don't you remember your foster-father, Gideon Sperver, the General's old ranger who saved your life as a child, in the swamp of the Losser? And his voice became so husky that he stopped and cleared his throat.
Ah, my dear Gideon, I know you now, indeed! Give me your hand! We gripped each other's hands, and Sperver, passing his sleeve across his eyes, continued, You know Nideck?
Of course, by reputation. What are you doing there?
I am the Count's steward.
And how did you happen to come hither?