Frightened almost into a fit, and yet fascinated, the woman watched him for some time, and at last saw him conversing with the arch enemy of man himself. The following morning the servant hurried to her mistress, and told her this silly story, the outcome of ignorance, superstition, and fear; and she insisted that the traveller who had been entertained and lodged in the castle was an evil being, who held converse with the devil, and that unless he were put to death some terrible calamity would result from his visit. The lady, who was only a degree or two less superstitious than the menial, was much impressed, for she lived in a district where superstition was very rife. People travelled very little in those days, and credence was given to the wildest and most outrageous stories; while a belief in the power of certain persons to hold communication with Satan was very common, especially in the Black Forest district. Indeed, even at the present day, when railways and telegraphs encircle the globe, natives of some of the remote districts in the forest still cling to this belief, and have all sorts of charms to protect themselves against the malignant influences of witches, warlocks, and forest demons. Madame Di Venoni, having listened to the wild and weird story of the servant, summoned her major domo, and bade him bring the stranger to her. This was done, and when the stranger was ushered into her presence he bowed low and reverentially to the mistress of the castle, who, however, regarded him with something like awe, for truly enough he was a striking and remarkable man, and calculated to unfavourably impress anyone who was superstitious. He had a dark, swarthy face. His eyes were intensely black and piercing, his hair like jet. ‘Whence come you?’ demanded the lady, imperiously. ‘From Rhenish Prussia,’ answered the man proudly, and drawing himself up as if by gesture he would resent the manner in which she addressed him. ‘And whither go you?’ ‘To Russia.’ ‘With what object?’ ‘In search of knowledge.’ Madame was incensed by his proud air, and eyeing him suspiciously, said: ‘Unless I am mistaken, you are a man of evil nature, and in communication with the enemies of the human race.’ The man laughed. ‘No, madame,’ he answered, ‘unless the stars that shine so gloriously in the heavens above are enemies of the human race, for it is from the stars I derive my knowledge.’ This apparently mysterious answer appalled the lady, for she felt no doubt now that the man was a fiend, and she was about to summon her attendants and have him expelled when her little son burst into the room, followed by his aunt. The child was laughing merrily, and had come to show his mother some grotesque heads he had been drawing on a sheet of paper. But, catching sight of the stranger, he was instantly silenced and clung to his aunt’s skirts, while the Lady Hilda regarded the man with intense interest. ‘Is that your son?’ he asked.