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Updated: June 15, 2025
The hall itself attracted my attention by its imposing aspect. It was the receptacle of the archives of the house of Nideck, a high, dark, dusty apartment, with long Gothic windows, reaching from the angle of the ceiling to within a couple of yards from the floor.
I was exhausted with fatigue and anxiety; whatever art could do I had tried. I told Sperver to sit up, and close his master's eyes in death. The poor faithful fellow was in the utmost distress; he reproached himself with his involuntary cry "Count of Nideck what are you doing?" and tore his hair in bitter repentance.
It was a noble-looking head, pale and haughty, with a surrounding of fine dark hair. He stopped before Sperver. "Monsieur," said he in that pure Saxon accent which no other dialect can approach, "I am come to ask you for information as to this locality. Madame la Comtesse de Nideck tells me that no one knows these mountains so well as yourself."
"There's the happiness and felicity of the rich! What is the good of being master of Nideck, with castles, forests, lakes, and all the best parts of the Black Forest, when an innocent looking damsel comes and says to you in her sweet soft voice, 'Is that your will? Well, it is not mine. Do you say I must? Well, I say no, I won't. Is it not awful?
"So," I resumed pensively, "the first of these wives was called Hedwige, and the descendants of Nideck are not related to her?" "Not at all." "Are you quite sure?" "I can show you our genealogical tree; Hedwige had no children; Huldine, the second wife, had three." "That is surprising to me." "Why so?" "I thought I traced a resemblance." "Oho! resemblance!
Christian seemed to take no notice; he took five or six potatoes out of a sack, and put them into the embers, taking care to cover them entirely; then, sitting down on the hearthstone, he lighted his pipe. "But just tell me, master, how is it that you are here to-night, at six leagues' distance from Saverne, in the gorge of Nideck?"
As a convincing proof, he referred to the three trees and the three toads of Nideck, which latter our kings have converted into three fleurs-de-lis. All the antiquaries of Alsace envied him this admirable and interesting discovery.
In the vast unbroken solitudes the awful silence is terrible. The Count of Nideck and the old woman found a gap in the face of the rock, up which they mounted straight with marvellous celerity, whilst I had to pull myself up by the help of the bushes.
The contemplation of my chamber, the ancient den of the Wolf of Nideck, with its low, dark arch, threatening almost to come down to crush the occupant; and further on that small leaden window, just touching the ceiling, more wide than high, and deeply recessed in the wall, added to the reality of the impression. I arose quickly and ran to open the window wide.
Her smile serves but to veil untold sorrows, anxiety for the future, even heartrending cares. The maid, the wife, the mother, smile and smile, even when the heart is breaking and the abyss is opening. O woman! this is thy part in the mortal struggle of human life!" I was pursuing these reflections when the lord of Nideck began to speak
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