He waved his hand with an air of knightly courtesy and was gone. Hans looked about him: the room was small, dark, and very scantily furnished. The large canopied bed in one corner seemed the sole relic of former grandeur, but its fine carving was shabby and worn, the silken hangings were frayed, and the sheets were of the coarsest linen.
"The best thing to do would be to go to bed as quickly as possible," said Hans to himself, as he made arrangements for drying his clothes near the stove; "but since this Freiherr von Eberstein-Ortenau has invited me to supper, I must put in an appearance. Where shall I get dry clothes? Perhaps I may find here somewhere an old suit of armour or a mediæval mantle that I can don. I think it would produce an impression if I should walk into the ancestral hall clad in mail. Let me see."
He began to search, and soon found a cupboard in the wall, unlocked, which seemed to contain the entire modest wardrobe of the lord of the castle. Hans took possession, without compunction, of the best articles in it, and had scarcely finished dressing when an old woman with a kerchief tied round her head appeared, and in the broadest mountain patois summoned 'the Herr Baron' to supper.
"Only baron! I ought to have made myself a count at least," said Hans to himself, as he obeyed the summons, following the old servant, who conducted him to a room which seemed to be drawing-room and dining-room combined.
At the first glance it presented a stately aspect, but it was a strange mixture of former splendour and present decay. The walls were covered with fine wainscoting, but the ceiling was rudely whitewashed, and the tiled stove was of a very common description. The same contrast appeared in the furniture: high-backed oaken chairs stood around a coarse pine table, articles of the meanest earthenware were ranged upon a richly-carved corner cupboard, and the fine old pointed arched window, the same whence had issued the ray of light seen by the wanderer, was curtained with flowered chintz.
"I must ask forgiveness for my presumption," said Hans, addressing the master of the castle, who was seated in an arm-chair. "My dress was in so disordered a state that, relying upon your kindness, I appropriated this coat."
He certainly did look oddly enough in the old-fashioned garb, but withal so handsome, with his cheeks reddened by the keen mountain air, and his curls still wet with the rain, that a smile hovered upon the old Freiherr's thin lips, and he replied, kindly, "I am glad you found what you wanted in my wardrobe. Sit down; I wish to ask you a question."
"Now comes the examination as to pedigree," thought Hans, and he was not mistaken; his host went straight to the point.
"Hans Wehlau Wehlenberg; that sounds well," he continued. "But the name of your estate is rather uncommon. Where is the Forschungstein situated?"
"In Northern Germany, Herr Baron," replied Hans, without the quiver of an eyelash.