"It is a fresh track," he pronounced, "last night's. It is a strange thing, Fritz, during the count's last attack that old witch was hanging about the castle."
Then examining with greater care—
"She passed here between three and four o'clock this morning."
"How can you tell that?"
"It is quite a fresh track; there is sleet all round it. Last night, about twelve, I came out to shut the doors; there was sleet falling then, there is none upon the footsteps, therefore she has passed since."
"That is true enough, Sperver, but it may have been made much later; for instance, at eight or nine."
"No, look, there is frost upon it! The fog that freezes on the snow only comes at daybreak. The creature passed here after the sleet and before the fog—that is, about three or four this morning."
I was astonished at Sperver's exactitude.
He rose from his knee, clapping his hands together to get rid of the snow, and looking at me thoughtfully, as if speaking to himself, said—
"It is twelve, is it not, Fritz?"