The Man-Wolf and Other Tales | Page 3

prepare to start. I will order
something to eat first." And he went out, first adding, "Be sure to put
on your cape."
I could never refuse old Gideon anything; from my childhood he could
do anything with me with a nod or a sign; so I equipped myself and
came into the coffee-room.
"I knew," he said, "that you would not let me go back without you. Eat
every bit of this slice of ham, and let us drink a stirrup cup, for the
horses are getting impatient. I have had your portmanteau put in."
"My portmanteau! what is that for?"
"Yes, it will be all right; you will have to stay a few days at Nideck,
that is indispensable, and I will tell you why presently."
So we went down into the courtyard.
At that moment two horsemen arrived, evidently tired out with riding,
their horses in a perfect lather of foam. Sperver, who had always been a
great admirer of a fine horse, expressed his surprise and admiration at
these splendid animals.
"What beauties! They are of the Wallachian breed, I can see, as finely
formed as deer, and as swift. Nicholas, throw a cloth over them quickly,
or they will take cold."
The travellers, muffled in Siberian furs, passed close by us just as we
were going to mount. I could only discern the long brown moustache of
one, and his singularly bright and sparkling eyes.
They entered the hotel.

The groom was holding our horses by the bridle. He wished us bon
voyage, removed his hand, and we were off.
Sperver rode a pure Mecklemburg. I was mounted on a stout cob bred
in the Ardennes, full of fire; we flew over the snowy ground. In ten
minutes we had left Fribourg behind us.
The sky was beginning to clear up. As far as the eye could reach we
could distinguish neither road, path, nor track. Our only company were
the ravens of the Black Forest spreading their hollow wings wide over
the banks of snow, trying one place after another unsuccessfully for
food, and croaking, "Misery! misery!"
Gideon, with his weather-beaten countenance, his fur cloak and cap,
galloped on ahead, whistling airs from the _Freyschütz_; sometimes as
he turned I could see the sparkling drops of moisture hanging from his
long moustache.
"Well, Fritz, my boy, this is a fine winter's morning."
"So it is, but it is rather severe; don't you think so?"
"I am fond of a clear hard frost," he replied; "it promotes circulation. If
our old minister Tobias had but the courage to start out in weather like
this he would soon put an end to his rheumatic pains."
I smiled, I am afraid, involuntarily.
After an hour of this rapid pace Sperver slackened his speed and let me
come abreast of him.
"Fritz, I shall have to tell you the object of this journey at some time, I
suppose?"
"I was beginning to think I ought to know what I am going about."
"A good many doctors have already been consulted."
"Indeed!"

"Yes, some came from Berlin in great wigs who only asked to see the
patient's tongue. Others from Switzerland examined him another way.
The doctors from Paris stared at their patient through magnifying
glasses to learn something from his physiognomy. But all their learning
was wasted, and they got large fees in reward of their ignorance."
"Is that the way you speak of us medical gentlemen?"
"I am not alluding to you at all. I have too much respect for you, and if
I should happen to break my leg I don't know that there is another that I
should prefer to yourself to treat me as a patient, but you have not
discovered an optical instrument yet to tell what is going on inside of
us."
"How do you know that?"
At this reply the worthy fellow looked at me doubtfully as if he thought
me a quack like the rest, yet he replied--
"Well, Fritz, if you have indeed such a glass it will be wanted now, for
the count's complaint is internal; it is a terrible kind of illness,
something like madness. You know that madness shows itself in either
nine hours, nine days, or nine weeks?"
"So it is said; but not having noticed this myself, I cannot say that it is
so."
"Still you know there are agues which return at periods of either three,
six, or nine years. There are singular works in this machinery of ours.
Whenever this human clockwork is wound up in some particular way,
fever, or indigestion, or toothache returns at the very hour and day."
"Why, Gideon, I am quite aware of that; those periodical complaints
are the greatest trouble we have."
"I am sorry to hear it,