Following the indication of his outstretched whip I discerned with astonishment an aged woman crouching on the snowy ground, with her arms clasped about her knees, and so tattered that her red elbows came through her tattered sleeves. A few ragged locks of grey hung about her long, scraggy, red, and vulture-like neck. Strange to say, a bundle of some kind lay upon her knees, and her haggard eyes were directed upon distant objects in the white landscape. Spencer drew off to the left, giving the hideous object as wide a berth as he could, and I had some difficulty in following him. "Now," I cried, "what is all this for? Are you joking?" "Joking?--assuredly not! I never joke about such serious matters. I am not given to superstition, but I confess that I am alarmed at this meeting!" Then turning his head, and noticing that the old woman had not moved, and that her eyes were fixed upon the same one spot, he appeared to gather a little courage. "Fritz," he said solemnly, "you are a man of learning--you know many things of which I know nothing at all. Well, I can tell you this, that a man is in the wrong who laughs at a thing because he can't understand it. I have good reasons for calling this woman the Black Plague. She is known by that name in the whole Black Forest, but here at Nideck she has earned that title by supreme right." And the good man pursued his way without further observation. "Now, Sperver, just explain what you mean," I asked, "for I don't understand you." "That woman is the ruin of us all. She is a witch. She is the cause of it all. It is she who is killing the count by inches." "How is that possible?" I exclaimed. "How could she exercise such a baneful influence?"