“No, my dear major,” said M. Goefle, putting his now useless mask into his pocket, while Stangstadius replaced his wig upon his head, “I only ran for honor; and since my honor, or rather that of my horse, has not been tarnished by the few seconds’ delay caused by that unlucky wig, I have nothing more to wish for. I am proud of Loki, and satisfied with myself. I should be still better contented,” he added, as he stepped out of the sleigh, “if I knew what had become of the poor fellow’s head-cover; he will catch cold.”
“Here it is,” said Christian in a low voice, approaching M. Goefle; “but since you have been recognized, I must take myself off at once, my dear uncle. It was well enough for Christian Waldo to have a masked servant, but in your case, it would be quite out of character.”
“No, no, Christian, I will not part with you!” said M. Goefle. “We will take a look at the lake from the top of the hogar, and then go back to Stollborg. Stay, we’ll give my horse to one of those peasants to hold, and then make the ascent. Take this side-path, and keep out of the wayof the curious. A black mask, just now, is noticed by everybody; and I see, unless we make our escape, that we shall soon be surrounded and cross-questioned.”