"Yes, Jean-Claude, and me, too; it makes me feel like a burgomaster, or mayor of a village, with his round paunch and fat puffy cheeks, who says to himself: 'Me, I am Hans-Aden; I have ten acres of beautiful meadows, I have two houses, I have a vine, my orchard, my garden, hum! hum! I've this, and I've that!' The next day a little touch of colic carries him off, and--good bye! Ah, the fools! the fools! who is there that is not a fool? Come along, Hullin, the very sight of that poor fellow babbling to the wind, and his raven, who croaks of famine, makes my teeth chatter."
As they came out into the open day, Hullin was almost dazzled by the sudden change from the thick darkness. Fortunately, the tall stature of his companion, standing upright before him, preserved him from an attack of giddiness.
"Step firmly," said Marc; "imitate me--your right hand in the hole, the right foot forward on the step, one half turn round--here we are!"
They returned to the kitchen, where Hexe-Baizel told them that Yégof was in the ruins of the old _burg_.
"We know it," replied Marc; "we have just seen him taking the air up above there; every one to his taste."
At the same instant, the raven, Hans, hovering over the abyss, passed in front of the door, uttering a hoarse cry; they heard the rustling of the frost-covered bushes, and the fool appeared before them on the terrace. His looks were wild and haggard, and, casting a glance at the hearth, he exclaimed:
"Marc Divès, you must give up this place as soon as possible. I warn you; I am weary of this disorder. The fortifications of my domains must be free. I will not suffer vermin to harbour in them."
Then perceiving Jean-Claude his brow grew clear.
"You here, Hullin!" said he. "Can it be, that you are at length wise enough to accept the proposals I have deigned to make you? Do you feel that an alliance such as mine is the sole means of saving you from the total destruction of your race? If it be so, I congratulate you; you have shown more good sense than I expected of you."
"No, Yégof, no; Heaven has not yet enlightened me enough," said he, "for me to accept the honour you wish to do me; besides, Louise is not yet of an age to marry."
The fool had grown grave and gloomy again. Standing on the edge of the terrace, with his back to the abyss, he seemed on his own territory, and his raven, fluttering from right to left, had no power to disturb him. He raised his sceptre, knit his brow, and exclaimed: