Els examined the countess’s arm, and then applied a household remedy whose use she had learned from the wife of Herr Pfinzing, her Aunt Christine, who was familiar with the healing art.  It relieved the pain, and when Cordula told her so, Els went on with her explanation.  “When all these blows fell upon me, they at first seemed, indeed, unprecedented and scarcely possible to endure.  When afterwards my Wolff’s unhappy deed was added, I felt as though I were standing in a dense, dark mist, where each step forwards must lead me into a stifling morass or over a precipice.  Then I began to reflect upon what had happened, as is my custom; I separated, in my thoughts, the evil menacing in the future from the good, and had scarcely made a little progress in this way when morass and abyss lost their terrors; both, I found, could be left to take care of themselves, since neither Wolff nor I lack love and good will, and we possess some degree of prudence and caution.”

“Yes, this thinking and considering!” cried the countess, with a faint sigh.  “It succeeds in my case, too, only, unluckily, I usually don’t begin until it is too late and the folly has been committed.”

“Then, henceforth, you must reverse the process,” answered Els cheerily.  But directly after she changed her tone, which sounded serious enough as she added:  “The sorrow of the poor Vorchtels and the grief my betrothed husband must endure, because the dead man was once a dear friend, certainly casts a dark shadow upon many things; but you, who love the chase, must surely be familiar with the misty autumn mornings to which I allude.  Everything, far and near, is covered by a thick veil, yet one feels that there is bright sunshine behind it.  Suddenly the mist scatters——­”

“And mountain and forest, land and water, lie before us in the radiant sunlight!” cried the countess.  “How well I know such scenes!  And how I should rejoice if a favourable wind would sweep the grey mist away for you right speedily!  Only—­indeed, I am not disposed to look on the dark side—­only, perhaps you do not know how resolute the Emperor is that the peace of the country shall be maintained.  If your lover allowed himself to be carried away——­”

“This was not the first time,” Els eagerly interrupted, “that young Vorchtel tried to anger him in the presence of others; and he believed that he was justified in bearing a grudge against his former friend—­it was considered a settled thing that Wolff and his sister Ursula were to marry.”

“Until,” Cordula broke in, “he gazed into your bright eyes.”

“How could you know that?” asked Els in confusion.

“Because, in love and hate, as well as in reckoning, two and three follow one,” laughed the countess.  “As for your Wolff, in particular, I will gladly believe, with you, that he can succeed in clearing himself before the judges.  But with regard to old Eysvogel, who looks as though, if he met our dear Lord Himself, he would think first which of the two was the richer, your future brother-in-law Siebenburg, that disagreeable ‘Mustache,’ and his poor wife, who sits at home grieving over her dissolute husband—­what gratitude you can expect from such kindred—­”