"Ah, I am glad to hear it."
"And it is your doing, too."
"Mine? I haven't even prescribed anything yet."
"What of that? You are here."
"You're joking, Gideon; what could my mere presence accomplish?"
"You bring him good luck."
I looked at him closely; he was in earnest.
"Yes," he repeated seriously; "you are a bringer of good luck. In past years, our master has had a second attack the day after the first, and then a third, and fourth; but you have prevented this and arrested the course of the malady. That is clear enough."
"Not to my mind, Sperver. On the contrary, I find it exceedingly obscure."
"We are never too old to learn," continued the worthy fellow. "There are forerunners of good fortune and harbingers of ill. Take that rascal Knapwurst, for example; he is a sure sign of bad luck. If ever I happen to run across him as I am going out hunting, I am sure to meet with some accident; my gun misses fire, I sprain my ankle, or a dog gets ripped open. Knowing this, I always take care to set off just at daybreak, before the scamp, who sleeps like a dormouse, has got his eyes open; or else I steal through the postern gate."