Not fourteen days had William spent in his new capacity as a huntsman, before father Bertram gave his consent to his daughter’s betrothal with the youth, who gained upon his esteem and affections every day. However it was expressly stipulated that nothing should be said about this transaction till William’s probation as a huntsman, according to the aforesaid law of the forest, should be over; meanwhile the happy youth, secure in the possession of his bride, found himself suddenly transported from the gloom of despondency to the sunshine of hope and happiness, and in the height of his transport became so forgetful of the ordinary duties of each day, that father Bertram began to chide him for his giddiness and want of manly self-restraint.
William had in fact from that very day on which he had obtained the old forester’s consent to his union with Katherine, experienced a most extraordinary run of bad luck. Sometimes his gun missed fire; at other times he lodged his bullet in a tree instead of a deer. When he returned home in the evening, and displayed the contents of his hunting-bag it was often found to contain only a few worthless daws and crows, and perhaps a dead wood-cat instead of a hare. These proofs of William’s carelessness drew down severe reproaches upon his head from the old forester, and Katherine herself began to get alarmed at William’s conduct.
William stimulated at once by love and the dread of disgrace redoubled his efforts; but the nearer the day of probation approached, the less steady became his aim. Almost every shot missed its mark with him; and at last he dreaded to pull a trigger lest he should do some unintentional mischief: having already wounded a cow on its pasture, and nearly shot the herdsman.
“I am quite sure,” said the huntsman Rudolf one evening, “that some one has bewitched William; the thing cannot na-
