The sun is sinking behind the western mountain range. Night is approaching. A man, grey of hair and beard and of about fifty-eight to sixty years of age, but still as alert and vigorous as at the springtide of life, clad in a Gallic blouse, a wallet over his shoulder, a fur cap on his head, and travel-stained shoes, issues from the forest. He is on the road that leads to the burg of Count Neroweg. The appearance of the grey-bearded man suggests a mountebank, one of the class that travels from city to city and village to village exhibiting trained animals. On his back he carries a cage with a monkey and, held to a long iron chain, he leads a large-sized bear, that, however, seems to be a peaceful traveling companion. He follows his master with as much docility as a dog. The mountebank stops for a moment at an elevated part of the mountainous road from where the plain and the hill on which the burg is built can be seen. Two slaves with shaven heads, and bending under the weight of a heavy load which they carry suspended from an oar the ends of which rest on their shoulders, appear in view. They are proceeding along a path, which, a few paces ahead of him, runs into the road on which the mountebank is walking. He hastens his steps in order to fall in with the slaves, but these, frightened at the sight of the bear wabbling behind his master, suddenly stop short. "Friends, you need not fear; my bear is not wicked; he is quite tame." He thereupon called to his bear as he pulled in the animal's chain, and said: "Come to me, Mont-Dore!" The bear promptly obeyed the call, drew near and modestly sat down on his haunches; he then raised his head submissively up to his master, who, as he stood before the animal, half hid him from the slaves. Feeling reassured, the latter resumed their way and, out of prudence, walked a few paces ahead of the mountebank at what they considered a safe distance from the bear. "Friends, what large residence is that which I see yonder, girt by a fosse?" "It is the burg of our master, Count Neroweg." "Is he at the burg to-day?" "He is in royal company." "In royal company?" "Chram, the son of the King of the Franks, arrived there this morning with his bodyguard; we come from the pond where we caught this mess of fish for to-night's supper." "As true as my beard is grey that is a good windfall for a poor man like me. I shall be able to amuse the noble seigneurs exhibiting my bear and monkey to them. Do you believe, my children, that I shall be allowed admission to the burg?" "Oh, we do not know. Strangers are not usually allowed to cross the fosse of the burg, without special permission from the seigneur count. The draw-bridge is guarded by day, and raised at night. "Nevertheless, last winter, I know, another exhibitor of trained animals visited the burg, and the seigneur count was greatly entertained with their performances. He may not refuse to tender a similar entertainment to his royal guest."