"Stop!" at last said a little old man who was cutting willows by the lake: "I've seen her."
"Where? When?"
"Over there in the tavern. It's almost a year ago; she lived there a good many weeks."
Baum cursed the peasant folk for a stupid set.
Fortunately, he met a gend'arme and told him who he was and whom he was looking for. He then sent the groom back to Wildenort with the lady's saddle. Placing his own saddle on Pluto, he rode along the edge of the lake with the gend'arme. On a rock near the shore, they soon saw a figure holding out a hat with a feather on it. They made for the spot, at full speed, Baum recognized his brother Thomas, and was so startled that he lost his stirrup.
If it were he who had robbed and murdered the countess!
The gend'arme knew the wild fellow. Thomas stared and grinned at them both. His hair was wet and his clothes were dripping.
"What are you doing there?" cried the gend'arme. "Whose hat is that?"
"That's none of your business," replied Thomas, his teeth chattering with the cold.
Baum offered the shivering man his brandy flask, and Thomas took a long draught. Then, with mingled rage and sorrow, he told them that the king's sweetheart had lost her way the night before and had come to their hut, and that she had led away his sister to plunge into the lake with her. He had come too late; he had seen something floating on the water and had jumped in to save her, but the hat was all he had found.