Hansel opened his eyes. Here was Herr Delmar talking very sensibly, and indeed courteously. "Herr Postmaster!" The title was all the dearer to the worthy man since he heard it so seldom. Friends and acquaintances always called him Hansel; the men and maids, as well as the peasants, called him 'Landlord;' but he never, or almost never, was addressed as 'Postmaster,' although he had as good a right to the title as the postmaster at Bozen. Whoever called him thus won his heart immediately, and Herr Delmar had taken it by storm. It was not often that Hansel served the guests himself. He left that to Nannerl: it was her duty. But to-day he made an exception. He took the bottle from the table, and himself descended to the cellar, where he filled it with his very best. His round face beamed as he brought it to his guests; and when Paul again invited him to sit down and take a glass, he took his place at the table very proud of the honour. Hansel was in the best of humours; he was ready to do anything in the world for these guests,--a mood of which Delmar was not slow to take advantage. He understood how, by skilful questioning and a remark thrown out now and then, to draw out the postmaster who was fond of talking, in the most thorough manner. He began by asking about the various points of interest in the surrounding country; about the way to the famous Tausenser waterfalls; about the names and the height of the mountain-peaks that could be seen from the windows; thence he led the conversation to Castle Reifenstein, and of course to its possessor, Herr von Heydeck, and his daughter Hilda; and when it had arrived at this point all went swimmingly, for this was a theme upon which the worthy Hansel, who had no idea that he was being systematically pumped, could talk by the hour together. With ready garrulity and in the broadest Tyrolean patois, which had frequently to be explained by him to his North-German questioner, he answered all questions put to him. The Herr who lived in the castle had been for many years an object of curiosity, of admiration, and of superstitious fear to all the country-people about, and to Hansel himself no less than to the rest. They whispered many a queer thing about him and his castle among the peasants in the common room of the inn; and there were terrible ghost-stories told of the old castle. Everything--the whispers and the stories--was faithfully detailed by Hansel. He was in his element, and Delmar's skilful questions and repeated glasses of wine combined to keep him there.