“Whither, in the Lord’s name? Twice four-and-twenty hours at this rate and we shall have spanned this terrestrial globe and come out on the other side at Nieder-Fahren.” As he was saying this they approached a bridge. The Vicar, in terror lest the horse in its blind rage might miss the bridge and leap into the stream, tugged frantically at the line on the side nearest to the bridge. But he tugged too long; the provoking animal thereupon left the bridge lying at the right, and jumped into the water. The Vicar came very near fainting away when he became aware of floating between heaven and water, and felt the waves penetrate his black silk stockings, and soon after his velvet breeches, until they played about his hips. The horse, which was a capital swimmer, reached the opposite shore in safety, regained the road, and jauntily continued its journey until it reached Schloss Malzen, where it darted joyfully with the Vicar into the open door of the stable, standing still at last in its own familiar stall. The servants in the courtyard ran in after him, helped the rider out of the saddle, and anxiously inquired how he had come into possession of the Baron’s horse. An unspeakable sense of blissful security seized the much-tried clergyman as once more he felt _terra-firma_ beneath his feet. Deprived of his hat and his wig, to be sure, and the lower half of his body dripping with water, far from home, the approaching night before him, and upon the domain of the arch-enemy of Nieder-Fahren--all these circumstances served to make the situation not altogether agreeable. But what cared he so long as his life was saved? While the servants were storming the breathless gentleman with questions the Baron’s steward appeared upon the scene, and hospitably urged him to come into the house. As upon his request a carriage was promised him to take him back to Nieder-Fahren, he consented to enter and rest before his departure. Meanwhile nearly two hours passed; no carriage appeared, and the Vicar began to wax suspicious lest he was being treated as a prisoner for having run away with the horse, although he had repeatedly affirmed that it was he who had been run away with. He finally decided to take flight. He arose, and was about to open the door, when Baron Pompeius von Malzen entered, having arrived upon his lackey’s horse while the despairing lackey was on a search for the Baron’s steed through the whole of Ober and Nieder-Fahren. The Baron, recognising the worthy uncle of his wife--the tale concerning the arrival of the horse with a wigless and decidedly damp clergyman had been related to him in the courtyard--at once escorted him to a better room, ordered dry clothing, and gave the Vicar time to change his garments. His departure was quite out of the question for that night; the Baron would not let the opportunity escape him to heap coals of fire upon the head of one of his adversaries, to entertain him sumptuously, and overwhelm him with courtesies.