Problematic Characters. Part First. CHAPTER I. It was a warm evening in July in the year 184-, when an ordinary wagon, drawn by two heavily-built bay horses, made its way slowly through the heavy roads of a pine forest. "Is this forest never to have an end?" exclaimed the young man who was sitting alone on the back seat of the carriage, and raised himself impatiently. The taciturn driver answered only by cracking his whip. The slow bays made a desperate effort to trot, but soon abandoned the purpose, which was as little suitable to their tempers as to the deep sand. The young man leaned back again with a sigh, and commenced once more to listen to the monotonous music of the vehicle, as it tried to keep in the deep rots, and let the dark trunks of the pine-trees glide by, one by one, noticing how here and there a ray of moonlight fell upon them; for the moon was just rising above the wood. He began again to fancy what would be his reception at the château, and his new situation, upon which he was about to enter; but these dim visions of an unknown future became vaguer and vaguer, his weary eyes closed, and the first sound of which he was again conscious was the dull tramp of the horses on a wooden bridge which led to a lofty stone portal. "At last!" exclaimed the young man, rising and looking around him full of curiosity, as the wagon drove rapidly through a dark avenue of gigantic trees, followed a rounded-off curve on a large open courtyard covered with gravel, and then stopped before the doors of the château, on whose windows the rays of the moon glittered brightly. The silent driver cracked his whip to make his arrival known. The only answer was the loud sound of a clock, quite near by, which slowly struck eleven o'clock. When the last stroke had been heard, the door opened and a servant stepped out, and behind him the figure of an old gentleman became visible, whose wrinkled face was lighted up by the glare of a candle, which he tried to protect with his hand against the strong draught. The young man jumped briskly from the wagon to meet the old gentleman, who offered him his hand, and said to him in a voice full of kindness, but betraying his old age by its tremor, and marked by a foreign accent: "Be heartily welcome, doctor!" The young man pressed his hand cordially and replied: "I come rather late, baron, but----" "No matter, no matter at all," interrupted the old gentleman. "My good wife is still up. John, carry the doctor's traps to his room! Please come in here!" Oswald had arranged his dress quickly in the hall, which had a beautiful tessellated floor, and now followed the baron into a lofty large room. As he entered, two ladies arose from the sofa behind a table, where they seemed to have been busy reading.