A powerful youth hurried out to attend on the grey mare; and when Mr. Killian Gottesheim had presented him to his daughter Ottilia, Otto followed to the stable as became, not perhaps the Prince, but the good horseman. When he returned, a smoking omelette and some slices of home-cured ham were waiting him; these were followed by a ragout and a cheese; and it was not until his guest had entirely satisfied his hunger, and the whole party drew about the fire over the wine-jug, that Killian Gottesheim’s elaborate courtesy permitted him to address a question to the Prince.
“You have perhaps ridden far, sir?” he inquired.
“I have, as you say, ridden far,” replied Otto; “and, as you have seen, I was prepared to do justice to your daughter’s cookery.”
“Possibly, sir, from the direction of Brandenau?” continued Killian.
“Precisely: and I should have slept to-night, had I not wandered, in Mittwalden,” answered the Prince, weaving in a patch of truth, according to the habit of all liars.
“Business leads you to Mittwalden?” was the next question.
“Mere curiosity,” said Otto. “I have never yet visited the principality of Grünewald.”
“A pleasant state, sir,” piped the old man, nodding, “a very pleasant state, and a fine race, both pines and people. We reckon ourselves part Grünewalders here, lying so near the borders; and the river there is all good Grünewald water, every drop of it. Yes, sir, a fine state. A man of Grünewald now will swing me an axe over his head that many a man of Gerolstein could hardly lift; and the pines, why, deary me, there must be more pines in that little state, sir, than people in this whole big world. ’Tis twenty years now since I crossed the marshes, for we grow home-keepers in old age; but I mind it as if it was yesterday. Up and down, the road keeps right on from here to Mittwalden; and nothing all the way but the good green pine-trees, big and little, and water-power! water-power at every step, sir. We once sold a bit of forest, up there beside the high-road; and the sight of minted money that we got for it has set me ciphering ever since what all the pines in Grünewald would amount to.”
“I suppose you see nothing of the Prince?” inquired Otto.
“No,” said the young man, speaking for the first time, “nor want to.”