“What in the name of the Sphynxes is this?”

“There,” said Jack, “is the Schloss von Eberhausen; or, if you like it in English, Eberhausen Castle, as it was the year of the deluge; for the present mansion that we are now sipping our wine in bears no very close resemblance to it.  But to make the mystery clear, this was the great prize in the Francfort lottery, the ticket of which my aunt’s first note contained, and which we were fortunate enough to win.  We have only been here a few weeks, and though the affair looks somewhat meagre, we have hopes that in a little time, and with some pains, much may be done to make it habitable.  There is a capital chasses of some hundred acres; plenty of wood and innumerable rights, seignorial, memorial, &c., which, fortunately for my neighbours, I neither understand nor care for; and we are therefore the best friends in the world.  Among others I am styled the graf or count—.”

“Well, then, Monsieur Le Comte, do you intend favouring me with your company at coffee this evening; for already it is ten o’clock; and considering my former claim upon Mr. Lorrequer, you have let me enjoy very little of his society.”

We now adjourned to the drawing-room, where we gossipped away till past midnight; and I retired to my room, meditating over Jack’s adventures, and praying in my heart, that despite all his mischances, my own might end as happily.

CHAPTER LI.

Munich.

The rest and quietness of the preceding day had so far recovered me from the effects of my accident, that I resolved, as soon as breakfast was over, to take leave of my kind friends, and set out for Munich.

“We shall meet to-night, Harry,” said Waller, as we parted—­“we shall meet at the Casino—­and don’t forget that the Croix Blanche is your hotel; and Schnetz, the tailor, in the Grande Place, will provide you with every thing you need in the way of dress.”

This latter piece of information was satisfactory, inasmuch as the greater part of my luggage, containing my uniform, &c., had been left in the French diligence; and as the ball was patronised by the court, I was greatly puzzled how to make my appearance.

Bad roads and worse horses made me feel the few leagues I had to go the most tiresome part of my journey.  But, of course, in this feeling impatience had its share.  A few hours more, and my fate should be decided; and yet I thought the time would never come.  If the Callonbys should not arrive—­if, again, my evil star be in the ascendant, and any new impediment to our meeting arise—­but I cannot, will not, think this —­Fortune must surely be tired of persecuting me by this time, and, even to sustain her old character for fickleness, must befriend me now.  Ah! here we are in Munich—­and this is the Croix Blanche—­what a dingy old mansion!  Beneath a massive porch, supported by heavy stone pillars, stood the stout figure of Andreas