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Updated: June 15, 2025
The whole figure reminded me not a little of the received pictures of Socrates, and while warming myself and listening to the crackling of the fire, I went off into contemplations on the very diversified fortunes of mankind. "Here is this dwarf," I thought, "an ill-shaped, stunted caricature, banished into a corner of Nideck, and living just like the cricket that chirps beneath the hearthstone.
Next to him, like the lamb next to the wolf, was the portrait of a lady of youthful years, with gentle blue eyes, hands crossed on the breast over a book of devotions, and tresses of fair long silky hair encircling her sweet countenance with a glorious golden aureola. This picture struck me by its wonderful resemblance to Odile of Nideck.
"We are looking for a woman," replied the old poacher "a woman who comes every year prowling about Nideck, and our orders are to take her." "Has she stolen anything?" "No." "Has she committed murder?" "No, monseigneur." "Then what do you want with her? What right have you to pursue her?" "And you what right have you over her?" answered Sperver with an ironical smile. "See, there she is.
At once I was struck with a strangeness in the physiognomy of the Count of Nideck, and in spite of all the admiration which his lovely daughter had at once obtained from me, my first conclusion was, "What an old wolf!" And such he seemed to be indeed.
Soon the storm reached the very gorge of Nideck and hung over it closely, and swooped down with implacable fury; the explosions succeeded each other without intermission. It seemed as if the very mountains were falling. At every fresh crash Uncle Bernard shrank, feeling as if the lightning were coming down his back. "The first Triboceus who built a hut to cover his head was no fool," thought he.
He turned now to the right and now to the left, and I followed him breathless. At last he stopped on a spacious landing, and said to me "Now, Fritz, I will leave you for a minute with the people of the castle to inform the young Countess Odile of your arrival." "Do just what you think right." "Then you will find the head butler, Tobias Offenloch, an old soldier of the regiment of Nideck.
I always was fond of it; but instead of perching by night upon a high branch of a tall tree, rocked by the wind, I now prefer to return to my cavern, to drink a glass, to pick a bone of venison, and dry my plumage before a warm fire. The Count of Nideck does not disdain Sperver, the old hawk, the true man of the woods.
When he had arrived at my side he bowed to me with ceremonious gravity. Sperver stood behind us, very well satisfied that I was admiring the dwarf of Nideck. In spite of the ill luck which, in his opinion, accompanied the little monster's appearance, he respected and boasted of his superior knowledge.
There were collected along spacious shelves, by the care of the old abbots, not only all the documents, title-deeds, and family genealogies of the house of Nideck, establishing their rights and their alliances, and connections with all the great historic families of Germany, but besides these there were all the chronicles of the Black Forest, the collected works of the old Minnesinger, and great folio volumes from the presses of Gutenberg and Faust, entitled to equal veneration on account of their remarkable history and of the enduring solidity of their binding.
And he pointed with his glass at the jolly young faces that brightened the farther end of the table. Certainly the damsels of Nideck were lovely. Some were blushing with pleasure to hear their own praises; others half-veiled their rosy cheeks with their long drooping eyelashes, while one or two seemed rather to prefer to display their, sweet blue eyes by raising them to the smoky ceiling.
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