"I, monsieur," replied Sperver quickly, at the same time advancing towards him; "I, Sperver, steward of the Count of Nideck!"
A strange expression passed across the Baron's features, but not a muscle of his face quivered. He rose to his feet, gathering the folds of his cloak more closely about him. I drew towards me the horses and the hound, who suddenly began to howl as he had done on the night of my arrival at the Castle.
Who of us is not subject in some degree to superstitious fears? At the sound of Lieverlé's menacing growls, I felt a dread of I know not what, and I shuddered instinctively. Sperver and the Baron stood at a distance of fifty yards from each other; the first immovable in the middle of the gorge, with his rifle resting against his shoulder; the other, standing erect before the entrance of the cave, holding his head high, and surveying us with a haughty glance.
"What do you want here?" he asked defiantly.
"We are looking for a woman," replied the huntsman; "a woman who comes each year prowling about the Castle of Nideck, and we have orders to seize her."
"Has she robbed?"
"No."
"Has she committed murder?"
"Then what do you want of her? What right have you to pursue her?"