"You are a blustering fellow yourself," laughed the count, "and 'Who loves
to dance, ne'er lacks the chance.' If you are thus minded, we shall have a
little hunt to-day, and take it upon yourself to invite for us a few
worthy and suitable gentlemen who have fine horses and dogs."

"And will not your grace to-day, in this beautiful weather, grant these
gentlemen the pleasure of seeing the two new greyhounds run? They have
been here eight days already, and might as well display a little of their
skill for the heavy sum of money they have cost."

"Yes, that is true--a heavy sum of money they cost indeed," said the
count. "My son writes me that he paid eight thousand dollars for these two
greyhounds." [9]

"But they are worth it, your excellency," cried the chamberlain, quite
enthusiastically. "They are two wonderful animals, who have not their
match in the wide world. I am quite in love with them, and if I had wife
or ladylove, would gladly give her for these two greyhounds."

"Yes, yes, many an one would relish making payments in this fashion,"
laughed the count. "It is easier to give a wife away than eight thousand
dollars, and again she is easier to obtain than such a superior greyhound.
Hurry now, Lehndorf, and arrange the hunt for me. Let the servants put on
their new red hunting suits and my huntsman also his new livery, that the
curious Berlin people may have something to gape at. Away with you,
Lehndorf! You, pages, take the baskets, now I am off for the audience
hall."

Both pages, in suits of gold-embroidered velvet, rushed into the little
antechamber, and quickly returned, each one bearing a pretty, shallow