Sperver, whose swarthy face had assumed a gloomy look, set spurs to his horse, and we continued at a gallop. I had become thoughtful. The cure of such a malady seemed to me exceedingly doubtful, if not indeed impossible. It was evidently some moral disease. In order successfully to combat it, it would be necessary to trace it back to its origin, and this origin was doubtless lost in the vagueness of the past. These reflections tended to increase my apprehension. The old steward's story, far from inspiring me with confidence, had depressed me,—a doubtful state of affairs to insure success.
It was about three o'clock when we descried the ancient Castle of Nideck on the furthest horizon. In spite of the vast intervening distance, we could distinguish the high turrets suspended like baskets from the angles of the edifice. It was as yet but a mere outline, hardly distinguishable from the blue sky; almost imperceptibly the red granite peaks of the Vosges appeared. At that moment Sperver slowed up and cried, "Gaston, we must get there before night shuts in. Forward!"
But it was in vain that he plunged his spurs into his horse. The animal remained motionless, with his fore legs planted firmly before him, his mane bristling up with fear, and emitting two streams of bluish vapor from his nostrils.
"POINTING TO A DARK OBJECT CROUCHING IN THE SNOW."
"What does this mean?" cried Gideon, astonished. "Do you see anything, Gaston? Can there—" He did not finish his sentence; pointing to a dark object crouching in the snow at a distance of some fifty paces on the hillside, he exclaimed, in a tone of such distress that I was a good deal startled, "The Black Plague!" Following with my glance the direction of his extended arm, I was astonished to perceive an aged woman, her legs bent up between her clasped arms, and so ragged that her red elbows protruded from the sleeves of her dress, seated in the snow. A few locks of gray hair fell in disorder about her thin, red, vulture-like neck. Singularly enough, a bundle of some sort rested on her knees, and her haggard eyes wandered over the snowy plain. Sperver had gone far to the right and kept as far as possible out of the old creature's way. I had some trouble in overtaking him.
"What the deuce is the meaning of all this? Are you joking?" I cried.
"Joking! God forbid that I should jest about such matters. I am not superstitious, but this meeting with the old witch frightens me." Then, turning his head and seeing that the old creature had not stirred, and that her eyes were still fixed on the plain before her, he seemed somewhat reassured.
"Gaston," he said solemnly, "you are a man of learning, and are acquainted with many subjects of which I know nothing, but believe me, a man is wrong to laugh at things he cannot understand. It is not without reason that I call this woman the Black Plague. Throughout the Black Forest she is known by that name, but here at Nideck she has won a special right to it."