With these words the chancellor departed, treading with light step the long gallery which led to the Duke's apartment. Albert followed him with a look of contempt and disdain. He had heard that this man formerly, either by prudence, or, perhaps, rather by an unwarrantable exercise of artful cunning, had gained great influence over Ulerich: he had often heard the Duke himself speak of the great confidence he had in his cleverness in state affairs. He knew not why, but he feared for the Duke should he put too much faith in the chancellor, for he thought he could read intrigue and falsehood in his eye.
Just as he saw the hump and flowing yellow cloak turn the corner at the end of the gallery, a voice whispered to him: "Don't trust that yellow-faced hypocrite!" It was the fifer of Hardt, who had stolen to his side unnoticed.
"How! are you there, Hans?" cried Albert, and gladly proffered his hand. "Are you come to the castle to visit us? that's very kind; you are more heartily welcome than that humpbacked knave; but what have you to say of him that I should beware of?"
"He is a false man, and I have warned the Duke not to follow his advice, which made him very angry with me. He puts his whole confidence in him."
"But what did he say? Have you seen him this morning?" asked Albert.
"I went to take my leave of him, for I am going home to my wife and child. The Duke appeared moved at first, spoke of the days of his exile, and asked me to mention any act of grace he could confer upon me. But I merited none, for what I have done for him was only paying off an old debt. I asked him at last, not being able to think of anything else, to allow me the liberty to shoot my fox without being punished as a poacher. He laughed, and said I might do it, but that was no act of grace, I must demand something else. Well, I took courage, and said, I beg of your grace not to put too much confidence in the crafty chancellor, for it is my opinion he is false at heart."
"That's just what I think," cried Albert; "he looked as if he wanted to spy into my most inward thoughts with those green eyes of his; but what answered the Duke?"
"'You understand nothing upon such subjects,' was his reply, and became angry; and added, 'you may be a faithful and sure guide among clefts and caverns, but the chancellor understands state intrigues better than you.' It may be," added the fifer, "that I am wrong in my conjectures; I hope so, for the Duke's sake. So now farewell, sir; may God protect you! Amen."
"Will you really go, and not remain for my wedding?" said Albert. "I expect the knight of Lichtenstein and his daughter here to-day. Stay a day or two longer: you were our messenger of love, and ought not to desert us at this happy moment."
"Of what use can a poor man like me be at the wedding of a knight? I might, indeed, sit among the musicians, and take part in the music in honour of the happy event; but others can do it as well as me, and my house requires my presence."