"Yesterday evening, then, after supper, all our people were assembled in the kitchen, round the fire. The table was still covered with the empty bowls, platters, and spoons. Yégof had supped with us, and been diverting us with the history of his treasures, his castles, and his provinces. It might be then about nine o'clock--the fool had just seated himself in the corner, beside the blazing hearth. Duchêne, my labourer, was botching Bruno's saddle; the shepherd, Robin, was weaving a basket; Annette was arranging her pots and pans on the dresser, while I had brought my wheel to the fire to spin a hank before going to bed. Out of doors, the dogs were barking at the moon; it must have been very cold. Well, there we all were, talking about the winter that was coming; Duchêne was saying that it would be very hard, for he had seen large flocks of wild geese, which is a sure sign: and Yégof's raven, perched on the edge of the chimney-piece, his great head buried in his ruffled plumes, seemed to be asleep; but from time to time he stretched out his neck, preened a feather or two with his bill, then looked at us, listening for a second, and again plunged his head between his shoulders." The farm-mistress was silent for a moment, as if to collect her thoughts. She cast down her eyes; her long, hooked nose bent itself almost to her lips, and a strange paleness seemed to spread over her face. "What on earth is she driving at?" said Hullin to himself. The old woman went on: "Yégof, beside the blazing hearth, with his tin crown on his head, his short staff between his knees, was dreaming of something. He looked at the great black fire-place, the large stone chimney-piece, with figures and trees carved upon it, and the smoke which was rising in heavy wreaths round the flitches of bacon. All at once, when we were least thinking of it, he struck the end of his staff upon the stones, and cried out, like one in a dream: 'Yes, yes; I have seen all that. It is a long time ago--a long time.' And as we all looked at him, struck with surprise--'At that time,' he went on, 'the fir forests were forests of oak--the Nideck the Dagsberg, the Falkenstein, the Geroldseck; none of those old castles, now in ruins, existed then. At that time they used to hunt the wild oxen in the woods, fish for salmon in the Sarre; and you--you fair-skinned men, buried in the snow six months in the year--you lived upon milk and cheese; for you had large flocks and herds on the Hengst, the Schneeberg, the Grosmann, and the Donon. In summer, you hunted; you came trooping down to the banks of the Rhine, the Moselle, the Meuse. Oh, yes; I remember all that.'