Baron Felix had arrived--in the middle of the night. He had left the ferry early in his own carriage, when his valet suddenly remembered that his master's dressing-case might not be with the rest of the luggage, as he had placed it on board the boat between his feet and probably left it there. A timid suggestion to that end--terrible indignation on the part of Baron Felix, threats of boxes on the ear, beatings and dismissal--a thorough search in the middle of the road--finally return, as the _corpus delicti_ was really missing. The ferry-boat, however, had unfortunately gone back in the mean time, and with it the precious box. Several hours had to pass before it would return, for the wind had lulled, and the men had to pull desperately with their heavy oars. Baron Felix watched them through his pocket telescope and became furious. At last, when the evening had come, the baron could start a second time, this time with the dressing-case. He was in a terrible state of mind. He had promised to arrive in Grenwitz early that day, as he could not await the moment to see his fair cousin. The delay might be interpreted unfavorably, and it was better, therefore, to arrive at night than not at all. On the other hand, it suited the taste of the ex-lieutenant by no means to travel by night through the forest and over damp moors, especially in an open carnage. He suffered--probably in consequence of indescribable exertions on the parade ground and at drill of rheumatism, and feared a cold like the plague. He chose, therefore, the least of two evils, and only threatened Jean, his valet, to make his punishment on the next morning depend on the nature of his cold. It was therefore a matter of great rejoicing to Jean when his master awoke next day in very good humor. They had tried to disturb the sleepers at the château as little as possible, and had quietly taken possession of the long-prepared rooms, with the aid of one of the more wakeful servants. Baron Felix ordered his cacao to be brought to his bed, and when he was dressed--he did very little of it himself--he sent Jean to ask Mr. Timm to come and see him for a few minutes in his room. For Albert's presence had been one of the first things he learnt when inquiring about the state of things at the château. "Ah _voilà_, dear Timm, how do you do?" said Baron Felix, emphasizing the last word in a peculiar manner, when Mr. Timm entered. "Pardon me for troubling you so early; but I--why on earth has the donkey brought me hot water again instead of warm water?--excuse me--Jean, warm water, rhinoceros!--now tell me how are you, Timm? Glad to meet you here by accident. How do you do?" and the baron held out one of the fingers of the left hand, which he had just been drying.