“Not here,” said Baron Z—; “but I am on my way to Reichenhall and Berchtesgaden, and at one place or the other I hope to have a chamois-hunt. A friend of mine wishes to see the sport.” “Ah, so,” cried the landlady, looking intelligently towards Hamilton. “I have part of a chamois in the house; perhaps the gentleman would like a ragout of it?” “Should you like some chamois for supper,” asked A. Z., turning to Hamilton. “Oh! of all things,” he answered eagerly. “It is rather a dry kind of meat,” she continued, “I have eaten it but twice myself; once from curiosity, the second time from—necessity. You remember, Herrmann?” “Yes; when we came out of Tyrol and went to the _Klamm_. I think we ought to show, at least, one of the _Klamms_ to Mr. Hamilton. An expedition of that kind will be something new to him, and a day more or less is of no consequence to us.” “I am sure you are very kind,” said Hamilton, delighted at the word “expedition,” but not in the least knowing what he was to see. “We might have the carriage to meet us at Unken, and our landlady will get us a key of the woodman’s house.” The landlady nodded assent. “And cold chickens, and tongues, and coffee, and all those sort of things. I shall take guides from Ruhpolding.” “Herr Baron,” cried a tall peasant, who had been leaning against the half-open door and listening attentively to every word that had been said—“Herr Baron, you promised to employ me the next time you went there. I could go to Frauenstein for the key to-night, and meet you in Ruhpolding to-morrow.” “Off with you, then,” cried Baron Z—, “and be sure to be there at five o’clock to-morrow.” “Or at half-past six,” said A. Z.; “and don’t forget to take the largest bags you can find.” The man nodded his head, scraped one of his heavy shoes upon the floor, and disappeared. Baron Z—, who was one of the most restless beings Hamilton had ever seen, now walked up and down the room, looked out of the windows as well as the thick leaves of the numerous cactus plants would permit, played with all the ugly, strange dogs in the room, and after having seated himself for a minute or two on every unoccupied chair he could find, he finally joined the guests at the other table, and in a few minutes was discussing politics with an elderly man who had been poring over the pages of the newspapers; then he listened and related sporting anecdotes to another, who from his dress he knew must be a _Jäger_; with the wood-ranger he talked of timber, the drifts of wood in the neighbourhood; and during the first pause in the conversation, he took up a guitar which was lying on the table and commenced singing Tyrolean songs, with such spirit and humour that his audience unanimously joined in chorus, each taking the part suiting his voice with a precision so surprising to Hamilton that he asked A. Z. if they had often sung together before.