"Yes, sir."
The gentlemen got in and took the child between them.
"Go on," said the baron. "Let them trot out."
They soon came upon the wide heath which extends from Fashwitz to Grenwitz, the same heath on which Oswald had met the old woman from the village. It wanted yet half an hour to sunrise. On the eastern sky a series of purple streaks rose one above the other. The air came cool from the sea across the damp moor.
The little Czika had come up close to the baron and was fast asleep.
"How thinly the child is dressed," said the latter; "it will take cold in the fresh morning air!"
He rose, pulled off his overcoat, wrapped it around the little one, took her in his lap, and rested her head on his bosom.
"So, so!" he said, kindly! and then to Oswald, who had been silent, meditating on the enigmatical character of the man by his side:
"I look to you a little crazy, doctor, eh?"
"No," said the other, looking up, "not in the least."