found the four Schmicks in the vast kitchen, watching Britton while
he pressed my trousers on an oak table so large that the castle must
have been built around it.

Herr Schmick was weighted down with the keys of the castle, which never
left his possession day or night.

"Herr Schmick," said I, "will you be so good as to inform me who the
dickens that woman is over in the east wing of the castle?"

"Woman, mein herr?" He almost dropped his keys. His big sons said
something to each other that I couldn't quite catch, but it sounded
very much like "der duyvil."

"A woman in a white dress,--with a dog."

"A dog?" he cried. "But, mein herr, dogs are not permitted to be in
the castle."

"Who is she? How did she get there?"

"Heaven defend us, sir! It must have been the ghost of--"

"Ghost, your granny!" I cried, relapsing into English. "Please don't
beat about the bush, Mr. Schmick. She's over there in the unused wing,
which I haven't been allowed to penetrate in spite of the fact that
it belongs to me. You say you can't find the keys to that side of the
castle. Will you explain how it is that it is open to strange women
and--and dogs?"