THE BARON'S STORY.--HE DISAPPEARS.
Sperver set out, carrying the body of Lieverle in his cloak. I had
refused to follow him, for I felt that duty compelled me to remain near
this unhappy woman, and I could not have abandoned her without violating
my conscience. Moreover, I am obliged to confess I was curious to
examine more closely this mysterious being, and hardly had Sperver
disappeared in the darkness of the defile before I began climbing the
path to the cavern. A strange sight awaited me there. Upon a large fur
cloak with green facings lay the old woman in a long purple robe, with
a golden arrow stuck through her gray hair, her withered hands
clutching her breast.
Time will never efface the image of this woman from my mind. Her
vulture-like face, distorted by the last agonies of death, her staring
eyes and half-opened mouth, were appalling to look upon. Such might have
been the last hour of the terrible Queen Fredegonde. The Baron, on his
knees beside her, tried to restore her to animation, but at the first
glance it was evident to me that the unfortunate creature was dying, and
it was not without a sentiment of profound pity that I kneeled to raise
her arm.
"Leave her alone! How dare you touch her?" cried the young man
bitterly.
"I am a doctor, monsieur."
"Ah, pardon me!"
He was deathly pale, and his lips trembled nervously. After a moment, he
asked:
"What is your opinion, monsieur?"
"It is over. She is dead."
Without replying, he leaned back against the wall of the cavern, his
forehead resting in his hands, and staring straight before him,
motionless as marble. I sat near the fire, watching the flames as they
climbed to the arched top of the cave, casting their vivid reflections
upon the rigid features of the Black Plague.
We had been sitting thus for a full hour without stirring, when suddenly
lifting his head, the Baron said to me:
"Monsieur, all this confounds me. Here is my mother,--for twenty-six
years I thought I knew her, and now a whole world of mystery and horror
opens itself before my eyes. You are a doctor; tell me if you have ever
known anything like it before."
"Monsieur," I replied, "the Count of Nideck is afflicted with a malady
that bears a striking resemblance to that of which your mother has been
the victim. If you have confidence enough in me to relate to me the
facts which you yourself must have witnessed, I will gladly tell you
what I know of the matter, for this exchange may be the means of saving
my patient."
As I began to speak the Baron started, and exclaimed:
"What? the Count of Nideck visited thus? This is more than a
coincidence."
And without further parley he informed me that the Baroness Zimmer,
belonging to one of the noblest families in Saxony, and being a blood
relation of the Count of Nideck (to whom he should have made himself
known had not circumstances required that he should maintain the
strictest secrecy as to his identity), had been accustomed for many
years to make a journey into Italy towards Christmas, accompanied by an
old man servant, who alone possessed her entire confidence; that this
man, being at the point of death, had desired a private interview with
her son, and that at the last hour, tormented no doubt by remorse, he
had told the young man that his mother's journey into Italy was only a
pretext to furnish her a means of making an excursion into the Black
Forest, of the object of which he himself was in ignorance, but which
must have been of some fearful nature, since the Baroness invariably
returned haggard, in rags, and almost dead, and that it required weeks
of rest to repair the terrible fatigues of these few days.
This is what the old servant had related to the young Baron, thinking
that in so doing he was only fulfilling his duty. The son, wishing to
learn the truth of his story, whatever the cost to himself, had this
very year verified the incomprehensible fact by following his mother
first to Baden, and then pursuing her step by step into the gorges of
the Black Forest. The tracks which Sebalt had discovered on the
Altenberg were his.
When the Baron had finished his confidence, I thought that I ought no
longer to conceal from him the singular influence which the advent of
the old woman exercised upon the Count's health, nor indeed any of the
attendant circumstances, and accordingly, I imparted to him even the
slightest details.
The Baron was amazed by the coincidence of these facts; the mysterious
attraction which these two beings exercised over one another without
knowing it, the ghastly drama which they had enacted without
consciousness, the acquaintance which the old woman had shown with the
Castle and its most secret passages, without ever having seen them
before; the costume which she had discovered in which to carry out the
murder in pantomime, and which could only have been discovered in some
mysterious retreat which magnetic clairvoyance had revealed to her.
When I had ended the recital of my experiences, the Baron relapsed into
his former gloomy silence, nor did he again rouse from it while I
remained near him. I fancied I could read in his face and attitude the
one wish to distance himself forever from the scene of this bitter
revelation.
While we were still sitting, each one buried in his own reflections, the
darkness of night began to fade. An owl, far off in the shadows, sounded
the retreat of darkness with its strange note, like the gurgling of
liquid from a bottle. Presently we heard a whinnying in the depths of
the defile, and then, in the first rays of dawn, we saw a sledge
approaching, driven by the Baron's servant. It was covered with straw,
and upon it rested a litter, on which we laid the body of the old woman.
I mounted my horse, who did not seem sorry to stretch his legs again,
having stood half the night in the snow, and I accompanied the sledge as
far as the outlet of the glen. There, having gravely saluted one another
for the last time, they proceeded in the direction of Hirschland, and I
on my way towards the Castle of Nideck.
At nine o'clock I was again in Odile's presence.
"The Plague is dead!" I cried, "and the spell is raised forever from
the Castle. Henceforth we may look for the olden days at Nideck."
[Illustration: "ODILE DROPPED HER EYES."]
And I related the extraordinary experiences of the last twenty-four
hours, exulting in our victory over the hag. When I had finished, and
recalled to my now happy love her promise of the day before, Odile
dropped her eyes, flushed charmingly, and returned the pressure of my
hand with averted head.
After some precious moments passed in the indulgence of our new-found
happiness, I proceeded to the Count's chamber. I found him in a very
satisfactory condition. He was naturally in a state of complete
exhaustion after the terrible crises that he had been through, but was
entirely himself, and the fever had disappeared the evening before.
Everything pointed towards a speedy recovery.
"Monsieur," I said, as he greeted me with a warm grasp of my hand, "your
restored health is assured, and it is but the matter of a few days when
you will be able to indulge in your favorite pastime again."
"I believe you, monsieur! I feel that myself as I have never done
before, and I am bound that you shall remain at Nideck and accompany me
on my first boar hunt."
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, monsieur," I replied. "Though
an entire novice in the art, I shall doubtless gain much by employing my
powers of observation."
"And furthermore," continued the Count, "your reward for this greatest
of all services which you have performed for me shall be whatever you
may require that lies within my gift!"
"Monsieur," I replied, bowing low, "your generosity overwhelms me.
However, we will discuss the matter of compensation at a future time,
when your strength will better admit of it. At present let me say that
the existing state of affairs is an ample reward for anything I may have
been able to accomplish in your behalf." And meanwhile I wondered if the
Count realized the significance of his promise as I reflected upon the
recompense I was presently to seek at his hands.
As his malady left him, I found the master of Nideck a changed man. His
features, which had at first aroused only a sentiment of repugnance in
me, slowly resumed their natural expression, and became dignified and
even handsome. His generosity and kindness exceeded anything I had
before experienced, and everything that Knapwurst had declared in his
master's favor was realized to the utmost. From liking I grew to loving
him, as I felt indeed I must have done if only as the author of Odile's
being.
The fortnight that followed was one of rejoicing throughout Nideck. The
Count gained with wonderful rapidity, and for a week past he had moved
about the Castle with a buoyancy and contentment of demeanor which only
Odile and the old steward could recall having seen in him long years
before, ere the dead witch had yet entwined him in the meshes of her
baneful spell.
Even the grim, melancholy Sebalt had become grotesquely gay, and he
discontinued his matinal post on the Altenberg, feeling, no doubt, that
he had contributed not a little to his master's recovery. As for
Sperver, he was radiant, and he would come to my chamber late at night,
after I had left Odile, and as we sat over our bottles we would discuss
for the fiftieth time the circumstances of my stay within the Castle.
During the earlier stages of the Count's convalescence I repaired each
morning to his chamber, where I invariably found Odile arrived before
me, and as the Count was fond of reading, which served to wear away the
period of his enforced inactivity, Odile and I would share for hours
together the reading of "Garin the Lorrainer," which was one of his
favorite romances.
The extent of my contentment may be imagined. Whenever I glanced up from
my book as it became necessary to turn a page, I invariably met Odile's
eyes fastened upon my face, and speaking the whole language of love and
contentment, and when she in turn assumed the reading, I found myself
lost in a world of reverie and speculation as I continued to study her
beautiful face, which was always a revelation to me, no matter how long
it remained before my gaze.
Oh, the delight of all this! How I pity you crabbed misanthropes who
know not the richness of a loving woman's endearments!
I had determined, with Odile's sanction, to broach the subject of our
betrothal to the Count as soon as his health would permit it.
Meanwhile, our hours at table were spent in laying plans for our future.
I was sanguine of success in my avowal, for added to the Count's desire
of seeing his line perpetuated,--which lay nearest his heart,--I knew
that he felt, though how deservedly I leave it to the reader to
determine, that I had been instrumental in restoring him to health.
These considerations, combined with his invariable desire to secure to
his daughter her slightest wish or whim, I believed would be sufficient
to ensure the consummation of my desire. Moreover, with my beloved
champion beside me, I felt strong enough to overcome the opposition of
the universe.
But the future still held something in store, and as it often happens
when we fancy ourselves beyond the reach of an adverse Fate, we may in
reality be standing within the shadows of the Valley of Darkness.