The trees retained a stubborn silence, and their example was followed by the earth, the air, and the water. Although the heat of the day was rendered still more insufferable by Mr. Fabian's thick hunting suit, yet his flesh chilled with fear when he discovered the actual loss of his partridges and hares.
To return home without his game, was a misfortune, which under ordinary circumstances he could have endured; but on this occasion he had reason to expect a more than usually severe lecture from his wife whose command he had stubbornly disobeyed by not awakening Gottlieb. While the unfortunate sportsman was bewailing his fate he discovered the face of his "butler," who was peering out from between the bushes with an expression of mingled humility and mirthfulness.
"Where are my partridges, you rascal?" shouted Mr. Fabian, his face glowing with anger.
"Do you think, Mr. H——, that I have taken them?"
"Such a jest would be but natural. What are you doing here? Have I not paid you enough?"
"I never do anything without orders, and if you do not wish me to remain, I will go instantly. I thought, however, that you would be pleased if I should tell you what had become of your game."
"That is just what I wish to know! Has any one presumed to steal it?"
"Very likely."
"Who? Quick! Tell me!"
But the butler answered only with a long drawn. "Ah!"