I was astounded at so much pride in so diminutive a being, yet my curiosity prevented me from showing too much of my feelings, for he alone could supply me with information upon the portraits that accompanied that of Hugh Lupus.

“Monsieur Knapwurst,” I began very respectfully, “would you oblige me by enlightening me upon certain historic doubts?”

“Speak, sir, without any constraint; on the subject of family history and chronicles I am entirely at your service.  Other matters don’t interest me.”

“I desire to learn some particulars respecting the two portraits on each side of the founder of this race.”

“Aha!” cried Knapwurst with a glow of satisfaction lighting up his hideous features; “you mean Hedwige and Huldine, the two wives of Hugh Lupus.”

And laying down his volume he descended from his ladder to speak more at his ease.  His eyes glistened, and the delight of gratified vanity beamed from them as he displayed his vast erudition.

When he had arrived at my side he bowed to me with ceremonious gravity.  Sperver stood behind us, very well satisfied that I was admiring the dwarf of Nideck.  In spite of the ill luck which, in his opinion, accompanied the little monster’s appearance, he respected and boasted of his superior knowledge.

“Sir,” said Knapwurst, pointing with his yellow hand to the portraits, “Hugh of Nideck, the first of his illustrious race, married, in 832, Hedwige of Lutzelbourg, who brought to him in dowry the counties of Giromani and Haut Barr, the castles of Geroldseck, Teufelshorn, and others.  Hugh Lupus had no issue by his first wife, who died young, in the year of our Lord 837.  Then Hugh, having become lord and owner of the dowry, refused to give it up, and there were terrible battles between himself and his brothers-in-law.  But his second wife, Huldine, whom you see there in a steel breastplate, aided him by her sage counsel.  It is unknown whence or of what family she came, but for all that she saved Hugh’s life, who had been made prisoner by Frantz of Lutzelbourg.  He was to have been hanged that very day, and a gibbet had already been set up on the ramparts, when Huldine, at the head of her husband’s vassals, whom she had armed and inspired with her own courage, bravely broke in, released Hugh, and hung Frantz in his place.  Hugh had married his wife in 842, and had three children by her.”

“So,” I resumed pensively, “the first of these wives was called Hedwige, and the descendants of Nideck are not related to her?”

“Not at all.”

“Are you quite sure?”

“I can show you our genealogical tree; Hedwige had no children; Huldine, the second wife, had three.”

“That is surprising to me.”

“Why so?”

“I thought I traced a resemblance.”

“Oho! resemblance!  Rubbish!” cried Knapwurst with a discordant laugh.  “See—­look at this wooden snuff-box; in it you see a portrait of my great-grandfather, Hanswurst.  His nose is as long and as pointed as an extinguisher, and his jaws like nutcrackers.  How does that affect his being the grandfather of me—­of a man with finely-formed features and an agreeable mouth?”