"We are celebrating the return of monseigneur to his health, and
Knapwurst is telling us stories."

All the guests turned my way, and I was saluted with kindly welcomes on
all sides.

I was dragged in by Sébalt, seated near Marie Lagoutte, and found a large
glass of Bohemian wine in my hand before I could quite understand the
meaning of it all.

The old hall was echoing with merry peals of laughter, and Sperver,
throwing his arm round my neck, holding his cup high, and with an attempt
at gravity which showed plainly that the wine was up in his head, he
shouted--

"Here is my son! He and I--I and he--until death! Here's the health of
Doctor Fritz!"

Knapwurst, standing as high as he was able upon the seat of his arm-chair,
not unlike a turnip half divided in two, leaned towards me and held me
out his glass. Marie Lagoutte shook out the long streamers of her cap,
and Sébalt, upright before his chair, as gaunt and lean as the shade of
the wild jäger amongst the heather, repeated, "Your health, Doctor
Fritz!" whilst the flakes of silvery foam ran down his cup and floated
gently down upon the stone-flagged floor.

Then there was a moment's silence. Every guest drank. Then, with a single
clash, every glass was set vigorously down upon the table.

"Bravo!" cried Sperver.