"What! baron, you wish me, then, to take my horse and return to Vienna without any supper! and why the devil do you remove the plates of those brave men? Am I more of a gentleman than you, that I should be shocked at your domestic habits?"
"It is our old German custom, it is true," said the baron, "but I thought that in France . . ."
"Baron, we are now in Germany, at the house of one of the most worthy representatives of the old nobility of the Empire. The rule of this house ought to be inviolable; thus, then, my worthy huntsman," addressing himself to Erhard Trusches, "and you, my brave director of the family tuns, hogsheads and barrels, take your places again, with the consent of the baron, who, I hope, will not refuse me this grace."
At a sign from the baron, the two servants joyfully replaced their plates at the lower end of the table. The governor pointed to the Marquis's seat, and all prepared to attack the venison, and the immense dish of sauer-kraut and bacon which smoked on the table.
The baron plunged his knife into the venison to carve it, when Létorière, with a grave and solemn air, putting his hand on the governor's arm,—
"One moment, baron I devil take me if I ever dine without saying blessing and grace."
The baron frowned, and answered with impatience and embarrassment:
"Since my chaplain died I have almost forgotten the words; but I give the sense—Well, don't you know the blessing, Erhard?"
"No, my lord," said Erhard, in a peevish tone, "I say it once for the year, and yesterday was my day for saying it."
"And you, Selbitz?"