"You had better not make so much noise, dear uncle," I said, hoping he would dismount, "for if the wolves come in upon us we shall need no help out again."
At last my worthy uncle dismounted, and sat down, muttering and swearing to himself.
"Chains and dungeons! what is this?" he exclaimed, drawing a white heap from under his feet.
It was the dead goose which was placed on the top of the pit to allure the wolves, and had made its descent into the pit with us.
"But what are we to do here till the morning?" said my uncle; "the gnats will devour us. I thought the devils were pinching me with fiery tweezers!"
"Just do as I do, uncle; light your pipe and fumigate them."
"Well, you are a man, nephew; I swear there's something in you;" and, seeing there was nothing better to do, he lighted his pipe, and we smoked together as if for a wager.
"But now, nephew," began my uncle, after some silence, speaking with his pipe in his mouth, while he stirred the bowl with his little finger, "what the tartar have you to do in my house, eh?"
"Well, uncle, here or there, why should I deny it, I am in love with Esztike."
"But the proper way would have been to speak to me first."