The animal finding his head free, moved forward as fast as bush and brake would permit him.  They had proceeded in this way for half an hour longer, when the Baron at last bethought himself of his bugle, and wound a long and powerful blast; but the echo was the only answer he received.  He repeated the sound with the like effect.  Again the Baron lost his patience, and “Der terefel—­” when all at once his steed made a dead stop, and pricked up his ears as at some well known sound.  The Baron listened attentively, and distinctly heard the blast he had sounded ten minutes before, responded by one so exactly similar, though apparently at a great distance, that he could scarcely believe the “evidence” of his ears.  “By the mass but that must be the work of Mynheer von Heidelberger himself, for no one in my own broad barony can wind that blast save Rudolf Wurtzheim.”  He shrunk within himself at the very thought; for to any one it was rather appalling to meet this being at such a place and hour.  The recollection of an adventure in these wilds which occurred on this very eve, twelve-months previous, now rushed vividly to his mind.  The concurrence in the date was startling.  In short, on reflection, he began to think there was witchcraft throughout the affair.

He had lost his companions of the chase in rather a singular manner; on this afternoon, being unusually unsuccessful, the Baron, while hunting a brace of favourite stag-hounds in a dell apart from the rest of the field, suddenly struck upon a boar of remarkable size; attracted by the cries of the dogs, the Baron spurred Hans to the pursuit, and did not reflect that he was pursuing a route apart from the other hunters; and trusting to his knowledge of the wilds he so often traversed, he bore on with undiminished speed.  The boar seemed to have a pair of wings in addition to his legs.  Suffice it to say, that though Hans chased him in gallant style, yet the Baron eventually lost his way in the pursuit, partly owing to the doubling of the animal, till both dogs and boar completely disappeared from sight.

Entangled in the forest, the evening rapidly approached, a general hush prevailed, and all endeavours to recover his track seemed fruitless.

The sun had now gone down for a considerable time, and a mist was arising that obscured the little light which the luminary of night afforded.

“Mein Gott,” exclaimed the Baron, “mortal or devil, he has involved me in a very disagreeable predicament, and to avoid him is, I fear, impossible.”  He once more sounded a long blast; again the blast was re-echoed after a short lapse of time, though seemingly at an extreme distance.  “Ah, there it comes again! what if my ears should deceive me, and this should be the answering bugle of my faithful Wildstein.”  The thought infused some fresh vigour into him; the low night wind murmuring through the trees, reminded him of the importance of every moment, Hans and his master pushed onwards through brake and dell.