Alas! there could be no doubt, whereas Kubbeling found a foot-print of
Ann's over which the spurred mark lay, plainly showing that she had come
thither before those men. And on the highway we found fresh tracks of
horses and men; thus it was beyond all doubt that knavish rogues had
fallen upon Ann and Uhlwurm, and had carried them off without bloodshed,
for no such trace was to be seen anywhere on the mead.

Meanwhile the forester had followed the scent with the bloodhounds,
starting from the place where the man had lain on the grass, and scarce
were they lost to sight among the brushwood when they loudly gave tongue,
and Grubner cried to us to come to him. Behind a tall alder bush, which
had not yet lost its leaves, was a wooden lean-to on piles, built there
by the Convent fisherman wherein to dry his nets; and beneath this
shelter lay an old man in the garb of a serving-man, who doubtless had
lost his life in the struggle with Uhlwurm. But Kubbeling was soon
kneeling by his side, and whereas he found that his heart still beat, he
presently discovered what ailed the fellow. He was sleeping off a
drunken bout, and more by token the empty jar lay by his side. Likewise
hard by there stood a hand-barrow, full of such wine-jars, and we
breathed more freely, for if the drunken rogue were not himself one of
the highway gang, they must have found him there and seized the good
liquor.

Now, while Kubbeling fetched water from the pool, Uncle Christian tried
the quality of the jars in the barrow, and the first he opened was fine
Malvoisie. Whether this were going to the Convent or no the drunken
churl should tell, and a stream of cold November-water ere long brought
him to his wits. Then was there much mirth, as the rogue thus waked on
a sudden from his sleep let the water drip off him in dull astonishment,
and stared at us open-mouthed; and it needed some patience till he was