"TALKING TOGETHER IN THE FOREST."
A sharp exclamation from Siebach stopped me. I dropped the curtain and turned to him.
"What is the matter?"
He recovered his self-possession immediately.
"Nothing. I was cutting a pencil and the knife slipped. Oh, it is only a scratch!"
"What is behind this curtain?" I asked, returning to my former occupation.
He did not answer at once. Then he laughed, a trifle uneasily.
"A family superstition—nonsense if you like. You can look."
I drew it accordingly. The curtain covered a large recess, and in this recess stood the life-sized statue of a horse in white marble, bearing a man in armour upon his back. The singular part about this equestrian group was, that whilst the horse was stone, the trappings and the man's armour were real.
"That is an odd idea," I remarked.