"Do not neglect to awaken Gottlieb. He also must learn the noble art of
hunting."
"I will, my dear, I will," said her husband, perspiring with his
exertions, as he forced himself into his hunting garments which Mistress
Ulrica had made from a pattern of her own invention. But when Mr. Fabian
had completed his toilette, he hastened from the house, intentionally
forgetting to awaken Gottlieb, for, as we shall soon discover, he had
urgent reasons for wishing to perform his hunting exploits without the
hindrance of a companion. As Sir Fabian was, so to speak, his wife's
butler, he had provided himself with a deputy butler, who generally
received a hint of the day and the hour, when stern fate would compel
his master to encase his feet in heavy hunting boots.
We now see this martyr to the holy cause of matrimony, puffing and
blowing beneath the weight of his heavy gun, as he wends his way across
the fields towards a certain spot in the forest at which he finally
arrives. He looks around him with searching eyes; his brow is clouded
with anxiety and impatience.
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