“What? Where? Speak up, hussy!”

I curtsied nervously and said, “Through the village, sir, and into the Schelkhorn Valley, if you please.”

“What for? How do you know? Are you involved in this?”

“Oh, no, sir! But they were talking about the river, sir, and how they’d like to follow it to the lake, if you please. They might have gone out for a game and lost their way down there. There were some gypsies going that way yesterday….”

Gypsies! They got the blame for everything, from the disappearance of the little heir twenty years before, to this. There weren’t any gypsies there at all, of course, but it might throw him off the scent for a little while.

The count glared at me, and I thought for a moment that he was going to strike me; his fists were clenched, and the mug of coffee shook and spilled some of its bitter contents with a hiss into the ashes of the fire he stood by; but he turned abruptly and called: “Lentz! Schaffner!”

These were Johann the footman and Adolphus the groom. They came running, and he ordered them to set off with guns down through the village toward the Schelkhorn Valley. “This girl will come with you,” he said. “If she’s too slow for you, leave her behind. I want those girls back today, you understand?” And he turned swiftly and went off to call up all the other servants: the huntsmen, the one old gardener, the kennel-master, the coachman—everyone he could find, while I flung on my old threadbare cloak, still wet from the night’s exertions, and ran off down the road after Johann and Adolphus.

It was a fine sunny morning, and they were full of the glee of the hunt. They were quite willing to accept my suggestions as to where they should search and equally willing to let me stay behind in the village. So I left them at the bridge; they went off whistling, and I ran on into the parlor of the Jolly Huntsman. But before I even entered the building, I heard a rare old commotion. I paused inside the door and rubbed my eyes in surprise.

A line of strangers, arguing, jostling, gesturing, with three or four different languages on the go at once, was queuing up in front of Sergeant Snitsch, who sat at our biggest table, looking very stem, more flustered than stem, and more pompous than flustered.

“Next!” he shouted, and the man at the head of the queue stepped forward and showed him some papers. I didn’t know what it could be about, so I went into the kitchen and asked Ma.