"For the same reason that the falcon is made to fast twenty-four hours, before he is taken out on the gazelle-hunt,--to sharpen my hunger after my favorite dish. When I have lived here a few weeks my senses become fresh again and susceptible, and the sight of man's busy life has its old charms for me once more." "And how much longer do you expect to stay here?" "I do not know yet. My Solitude--this is the name my grandfather gave this place--pleases me this time better than usual. I have led an odd sort of life for the last few years, and seen so many children of Adam of various races and degrees of civilization that at last they all looked alike to me, an evidence that my senses had become dull and a new fast was necessary. You and Czika must see to it that I do not starve altogether." "And where is our little foundling?" "Somewhere on the heath, where she lies down in the blooming broom and stares at the sky; or on the beach, where she climbs about among the rocks and claps her hands with delight if a wave wets her bare feet. She has not been persuaded yet to put on shoes; I leave her in perfect freedom since she declared, on the second day of her stay here, when I refused to let her run out in the most inclement weather: Czika dies if she cannot go in the rain!" "Does she pine after her mother?" "Do you really think that brown woman, whom I at least saw only in passing, is her mother?" "Certainly! The likeness between Czika and the Brown Countess is unmistakable." "From whom have I heard that expression before?" said Oldenburg, thoughtfully; "probably from you the other day, but it sounded so familiar to me. Does the name come from you?" "No; from Frau von Berkow," said Oswald, fixing his eye upon Oldenburg. "Ah, indeed!" said the baron. This was the first time that Melitta's name was mentioned by the two men, and it was characteristic enough, that at once a pause occurred in the conversation. "On what occasion did Frau von Berkow make the acquaintance of the gypsy?" asked the baron, after a little while. Oswald told him in a few words the story of the Brown Countess, as he had heard it from Melitta. Oldenburg smiled. "Yes," he said, "now I remember. Frau von Berkow told me that anecdote some years ago. The story is a very pretty one, especially for those who take an interest in Frau von Berkow, because it is very characteristic of the amiable lady, who is as kind-hearted as she is fond of such little _escapades_." The baron said this as simply and calmly as if there had never been a period when he would have risked his life for a smile of this "amiable lady." "But had we not better go in?" he continued; "I see Hermann, my raven and my factotum, has put all kinds of nice things on a table, and there comes Thusnelda, his wife and my nurse, to invite us solemnly to take some refreshments." A venerable-looking old lady of large size appeared in the glass door, dropped a low courtesy and said: "Master, the table is set."