The baron, though a small man, had a large soul, and it swelled
with satisfaction at the consciousness of being the greatest man
in the little world about him. He loved to tell long stories
about the stark old warriors whose portraits looked grimly down
from the walls around, and he found no listeners equal to those
who fed at his expense. He was much given to the marvellous and a
firm believer in all those supernatural tales with which every
mountain and valley in Germany abounds. The faith of his guests
exceeded even his own: they listened to every tale of wonder with
open eyes and mouth, and never failed to be astonished, even
though repeated for the hundredth time. Thus lived the Baron Von
Landshort, the oracle of his table, the absolute monarch of his
little territory, and happy, above all things, in the persuasion
that he was the wisest man of the age.
At the time of which my story treats there was a great family
gathering at the castle on an affair of the utmost importance: it
was to receive the destined bridegroom of the baron's daughter. A
negotiation had been carried on between the father and an old
nobleman of Bavaria to unite the dignity of their houses by the
marriage of their children.
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