Detached verses from this mysterious and sublime book will generally adapt themselves to almost any meaning which the imagination is desirous of obtaining. Accordingly, old Sten, who had trembled at the first verse, and clasped his hands over the second, drew a long breath at the third, as if his oppressed soul was relieved. But Ulphilas, who had drank too much the night before to be a competent interpreter of the utterances of the sacred volume, asked himself with anguish whether the old Bible had not, under the form of some allegory too deep for his intelligence, disclosed to his uncle the secret of his falsehood.
He was aroused from his revery by the appearance of a new visitor in the court. This was Puffo, who had come to arrange for the evening’s performance with Christian. Puffo was not a demonstrative person; he did not like the country in winter, and he did not speak a word of Dalecarlian. But still he was in a very good humor just at the present moment, and for sufficient reasons. He bade Ulph good-day, in quite a friendly manner, while the latter was greatly surprised to see him enter the bear-room unceremoniously, as if he was quite at home there.
Puffo found Christian occupied in classifying the mineralogical specimens in his box.
“Well, master, what are you thinking of?” said he. “It’s no time now to be playing with those little pebbles; we must get ready for the piece this evening.”
“Parbleu! I know that very well,” replied Christian; “but what could I do without you? It is high time for you to show yourself. Where the devil have you been since yesterday?”
Puffo informed him—but without making any excuses for his absence—that he had finally found a good supper and good bed at the farm, that he had slept late, and having made acquaintance with a servant from the chateau, who was there, had told whom it might concern of the arrival of Christian Waldo at Stollborg. After breakfast the major-domo of the new chateau had sent for him, had talked to him very pleasantly, and informed him that the exhibition of marionettes would be expected at eight precisely that evening. The major-domo had added:
“You will mention to your employer Christian, that his lordship wishes a very brilliant entertainment, and he begs him to be infinitely witty.”
“Excellent!” said Christian. “Plenty of wit, by order of his lordship the baron. Let him take care, lest I prove altogether too witty for him! But, Puffo, did you hear nothing about the baron’s illness?”
“Yes, he was ill last night, it appears,” replied the stroller, “but he has recovered. Perhaps he was only drunk, though the servants say he does not drink at all. But who’s going to believe that a man as rich as he is would cheat his stomach out of good liquor when he has it in his cellar?”
“I wager that you did not cheat yourself, Puffo, out of whatever came under your hand.”