"To be sure; only, between ourselves, she was nothing but a canteen-woman of Soubise's army. One day she brought us in Tobias Offenloch on her cart, minus one leg, and the poor fellow married her out of gratitude; you understand."
"Precisely; but open the door,—I am freezing!" I tried to push past him, but Sperver, obstinate, like all good Germans, was bound to enlighten me as to the people into whose presence I was about to enter, and seizing me by the frogs of my greatcoat, he continued:
"Then there is Sebalt Kraft, the master of the hounds, a sad sort of chap, but without an equal in sounding the horn; Karl Trumpf, the butler; Christian Becker, and all our people, if they haven't all gone to bed."
Thereupon Sperver pushed open the door, and I stood surprised on the threshold of a high, dark hall, the former guardroom of Nideck. I took in at a glance the three windows at the further end of the room, that dominated the precipice; on the right a sort of sideboard of old oak, browned by age, and on it a small cask, glasses, and bottles; on the left a Gothic chimney with a broad mantel-shelf empurpled by the blazing fire underneath, and ornamented in front and on the sides by carvings representing the various scenes of a boar hunt in the Middle Ages; and finally, in the centre of the room, a long table upon which stood a huge lamp, its light reflected by a dozen mugs with pewter lids.
All this I saw at a glance, but it was the people that interested me most. I recognized at once the majordomo with his wooden leg; a small, square, thick-set man, with a ruddy face, and prominent waistband, and a nose of marvellous brilliancy. He wore an enormous hemp-colored wig, with a long pigtail, a coat of apple-green plush with steel buttons as large as a five-franc piece, velvet breeches, blue silk stockings, and shoes with silver buckles. He was about to turn the spigot of the cask; an air of inexpressible satisfaction beamed upon his rubicund face, and his eyes, starting slightly from his head, glowed in profile like a pair of watch glasses. His wife, the worthy Marie Lagoutte, dressed in a gown of woolen stuff with a large flowered pattern, and her thin face the color of a withered apple, was playing cards with two servants, all three seated in straight-backed armchairs. Some small split pegs pinched the olfactory organ of the old woman and that of another player, while the third was winking slyly and seemed to enjoy seeing his opponents subjugated beneath this new variety of Caudine Forks.
"How many cards?" he was asking them.
"Two," replied the old woman.
"And you, Christian?"
"Two."
"Ah, ha! I've got you! Cut the king; now the ace. Ha, ha, ha! Another peg, mother; this will teach you once more to boast to us of your French games!"