"Ah! That was in the nick of time," said Albert, when they were safe under the projecting roof of the hut, and shook himself like a dog. "My coat might have been benefited by the washing, but I prefer being here. How it rains! Shall we go in and see the interior of this palazzo, dottore, or do you think the old woman there, who is looking at us from the little window, is the same old witch who has conjured up this abominable weather?"
"Good-day, Mother Claus," said Oswald, recognizing his old friend whom he had met on his way to church.
"Many thanks, young master," said Mother Claus, and nodded kindly. "I expected you. Just come in, and the other one too, if he is your friend."
"Well, now--what does that mean?" asked Albert, surprised.
"Just follow me," replied Oswald. "You shall make the acquaintance of a remarkable old woman."
And, not without stooping low, they entered through the door into the hut.
CHAPTER VII.
"Walk in here," said Mother Claus, seizing Oswald by the hand and drawing him from the dark passage into a little room with one window, opposite to the larger room on the other side, into which Oswald, aided by the steward, had carried the sick servant the other day. She did not trouble herself about Albert, as if she knew that the young man possessed a talent for finding his way in the dark. "I have looked for you; for I know from of old that you love to run about in such weather, to cool your hot youthful blood. Are you quite wet through again, as usually? Well, not so badly this time! There, sit down in the easy-chair. None of you have ever sat there since the day on which Baron Oscar died in it, forty-three years ago."
"Not a particular recommendation for superstitious minds," said Albert, seating himself on a large wooden chest in the background of the room, while the old woman was pushing Oswald into the easy-chair and sat down at his feet on a footstool; "but honor to whom honor is due. You look quite grand, doctor, on that single gala-piece of furniture in this otherwise very plain room, especially in the Rembrandt light that falls on you, and with the old woman, Murillo fashion, at your feet, like a banished king who seeks shelter with an old fairy in the forest, while his faithful squire sits modestly in the background. I really believe our race has tired me, and I could sleep a few moments. Wake me, dottore, when it stops raining--" and Albert stretched himself full length on the old chest, put his hands under his head, and, in spite of the uncomfortable position, he seemed to have fallen asleep after a few minutes, while the monotonous ticking of the old cuckoo clock in the corner, and the dripping of the falling rain, alone interrupted the profound silence in the little room.
Mother Claus had taken up her knitting and was at work as busily as the other day at a tiny child's sock, busily, busily, that the needles clinked merrily. Only from time to time she would look up at Oswald and nod kindly, as if she was glad that he was sitting so comfortably in the soft old armchair, here in the cosey room, while the rain came down pitilessly outside.