shaking and stretching himself like a dog, he prepared to
obey, indifferent to everything at the moment but the annoyance of
being disturbed in his slumbers. 'If you should meet anybody,' said
Mazzuolo, 'say that your mistress is ill, and that you are going to
fetch the medicine-chest.'

By the time he got below, the motion and the cool air had aroused the
lad, and with his recollection, revived his repugnance to the work
before him; but he saw no means of avoiding it, and with an unwilling
step he proceeded to the yard where the carriage stood, and having
found the axe, he was returning with it, when he observed hanging
against the wall, a large horn or trumpet. Now, he had seen such a
thing at several of the post-houses on the road, and he remembered to
have heard one sounded on the night they slept in the mountains, when
the travellers arrived late, and prevented the projected
assassination. Instinctively, and without pausing to reflect how he
should excuse himself--for if he had, he could not have done it--he
placed the instrument to his mouth, and lustily blew it: and then,
terrified at his temerity, and its probable consequences, rushed into
the house, and up the stairs, again to his master.

'The travellers' horn!' said Mazzuolo frantically. The lad was too
frightened to speak, but stood still, pale and trembling. 'Wait,'
continued the Italian; 'perhaps it may only be for horses, and they
may go on again. I hear the people stirring.'

Feet were indeed heard upon the stairs, and presently a lantern
gleamed beneath the window. 'I hear no carriage,' observed Mazzuolo.
And for some time they sat listening; but there being no appearance
of any travellers, he said he would go below and see how matters
stood.

'Nobody is yet arrived,' said the master of the post-house in answer
to his inquiries; 'but doubtless the signal was given by the
avant-courier, who has rode on to the next station; and the carriage
will be here presently. We must be ready with the horses.'
As the travellers, however, did not arrive, but continued to be
expected, the postmaster and the postilions remained up to watch for
them; and when four o'clock came, Karl was bidden go to bed, as
nothing could be attempted under such circumstances.

'Now,' said Mazzuolo, on the following day, 'we sleep to-night at
Meitingen, which is our last station. I know the place; it is too busy
a house for a _coup de main;_ we must try the charcoal again; but this