"Oh, don't pretend to be looking at your feet."

And pointing out to me at some distance a scarcely perceptible white
streak in the snow--

"There she is!"

Immediately he galloped up to it; I followed in a couple of minutes; we
had dismounted, and were examining the track of the Black Pest.

"I should like to know," cried Sperver, "how that track came here?"

"Don't let that trouble you," I replied.

"You are right, Fritz; don't mind what I say; sometimes I do speak rather
at random. What we want now is to know where that track will lead us to."

And now the huntsman knelt on the ground.

I was all ears; he was closely examining.

"It is a fresh track," he pronounced, "last night's. It is a strange
thing, Fritz, during the count's last attack that old witch was hanging
about the castle."

Then examining with greater care--

"She passed here between three and four o'clock this morning."

"How can you tell that?"