“Here come travellers now,” shouted one from the gate. “I hear horses at full speed on the Klausenberg road.”
“Lanterns to the gate, and stand free of the road,” cried the overseer; and now the scene became one of striking excitement, as the lights flitted rapidly from place to place; the great arch of the gate being accurately marked in outline, and the deep cleft in the snow lined on either side by lanterns suspended between posts.
“They 're coming at a furious pace,” cried one; “they 've passed the toll-bridge at full gallop.”
“Then it's the Count himself,” chimed in another, “There 's none but he could force the toll-bar.”
“It's a country wagon, with four juckers; and here it comes;” and as he spoke four sweating horses swung through the gateway, and came full speed into the court.
“Where is Kitzlach? Call Kitzlach! call the doctor!” screamed a voice from the wagon. “Tell him to come down at once.”
“Out with the juchera, and harness a fresh team,” cried the same voice. And now, as he descended from the wagon, he was surrounded with eager figures, all anxious to hear his tidings. As I could gather nothing from where I was, I hastily threw on a fur coat, and made my way down to the court. I soon learned the news. A terrible disaster had befallen the hunting-party. A she-boar, driven frantic by her wounds, had dashed suddenly into the midst of them, slightly wounded the Count and his head Jager, but dangerously one of the guests, who had sustained a single combat with her and killed her; not, however, without grievous injury to himself, for a large blood-vessel had been severed; all the efforts to stanch which had been but half successful.
“Have you your tourniquet, doctor?” cried the youth from a wagon, as the equipage was turned again to the gate.
“Everything—everything.”
“You 'll want any quantity of lint and bandages; and, remember, nothing can be had down yonder.”