Killian Gottesheim had presented him to his daughter Ottilia,
Otto followed to the stable as became, not perhaps the Prince, but
the good horseman. When he returned, a smoking omelette and some
slices of home-cured ham were waiting him; these were followed by a
ragout and a cheese; and it was not until his guest had entirely
satisfied his hunger, and the whole party drew about the fire over
the wine jug, that Killian Gottesheim's elaborate courtesy permitted
him to address a question to the Prince.
'You have perhaps ridden far, sir?' he inquired.
'I have, as you say, ridden far,' replied Otto; 'and, as you have
seen, I was prepared to do justice to your daughters cookery.'
'Possibly, sir, from the direction of Brandenau?' continued Killian.
'Precisely: and I should have slept to-night, had I not wandered, in
Mittwalden,' answered the Prince, weaving in a patch of truth,
according to the habit of all liars.
'Business leads you to Mittwalden?' was the next question.
'Mere curiosity,' said Otto. 'I have never yet visited the
principality of Grunewald.'
'A pleasant state, sir,' piped the old man, nodding, 'a very
pleasant state, and a fine race, both pines and people. We reckon
ourselves part Grunewalders here, lying so near the borders; and the
river there is all good Grunewald water, every drop of it. Yes,
sir, a fine state. A man of Grunewald now will swing me an axe over
his head that many a man of Gerolstein could hardly lift; and the
pines, why, deary me, there must be more pines in that little state,
sir, than people in this whole big world.
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