"Of about fifteen--perhaps she was older--it is difficult to determine the age of gypsy girls. She was slender and agile like a deer, and her dark eyes shone with such a magic, supernatural fire, that I was seized by a rapture of delight as I looked deeper and deeper into them, while she was telling me my fortune by reading the lines in my hand. My fate could be read much more clearly in her eyes than in my hand. I was delighted, enraptured, beside myself--the world had disappeared in an instant. You must bear in mind that I was twenty years old, and romantic as few men are, even at that early age; but I felt that to be a gypsy, to feed upon stone-martins, and to sun one's self in the eyes of a gypsy girl was the true and only purpose of life upon earth. I stayed with the gypsies I know not how many days. My friends at the château thought I had been torn by wolves. But one evening, when the sun had already disappeared behind the mountain wall which protected our encampment towards the north, and while the band were still away, I was sitting with the Zingarella at the foot of an old oak-tree, and was happy in my young love--when---- "I verily believe there is somebody coming"--the baron said, interrupting himself--"was not that a strange voice?" "I hope not," said Oswald. The door opened; old Hermann looked in and said:-- "Baron Cloten wishes to present his respects, sir; are you at home?" "Oh no!" replied Oldenburg; "but, to be sure, I cannot very well decline seeing him; he comes to--hm, hm!" "Do not let me prevent you from being hospitable," said Oswald, rising. "I pray, stay!" said the baron; "I hope he will not remain long. He comes in a certain affair in which he wants my advice. That is all. Show him up stairs, Hermann." A moment afterwards Baron Cloten entered. He wore a riding-coat and top-boots, and seemed to have had a long ride. At least he looked very much heated. Oswald's presence seemed to annoy or to embarrass him; at least he spoke to him with striking formality, after having shaken hands with the baron. "Very warm to-day," he snarled, seating himself in the chair which the baron had offered him; "Robin is covered with sweat,---told your groom to rub him down with a wisp of straw. Keeps an animal marvellously well. Pleasant wine--what is it?--famous wine--had some the other day at Barnewitz--not half as good. Apropos Barnewitz--no bad effects, baron? Left somewhat early--heat really abominable----" "Won't you put down your hat, Cloten?" "Thanks! Am going away directly. Only wanted to see--quite near here--was at Grenwitz--everybody out there--came over here to see how all were." "But you surely have a few minutes?" "Not a moment--'pon honor," said Cloten, emptying his glass and rising; "call in to-morrow, perhaps. Good-by, baron." Cloten again bowed very formally to Oswald and went to the door, accompanied by the baron. "I pray, don't trouble yourself," said Cloten.