Next morning we began work in earnest; the land-steward brought his

account-books, and various other people came, some to get a dispute

settled, some to get arrangements made about other matters. At noon my

uncle took me with him to the wing where the two old Baronesses lived,

that we might pay our respects to them with all due form. Francis

having announced us, we had to wait some time before a little old dame,

bent with the weight of her sixty years, and attired in gay-coloured

silks, who styled herself the noble ladies' lady-in-waiting, appeared

and led us into the sanctuary. There we were received with comical

ceremony by the old ladies, whose curious style of dress had gone out

of fashion years and years before. I especially was an object of

astonishment to them when my uncle, with considerable humour,

introduced me as a young lawyer who had come to assist him in his

business. Their countenances plainly indicated their belief that, owing

to my youth, the welfare of the tenants of R--sitten was placed in

jeopardy. Although there was a good deal that was truly ridiculous

during the whole of this interview with the old ladies, I was

nevertheless still shivering from the terror of the preceding night; I

felt as if I had come in contact with an unknown power, or rather as if

I had grazed against the outer edge of a circle, one step across which

would be enough to plunge me irretrievably into destruction, as though

it were only by the exertion of all the power of my will that I should

be able to guard myself against _that_ awful dread which never slackens

its hold upon you until it ends in incurable insanity. Hence it was

that the old Baronesses, with their remarkable towering head-dresses,

and their peculiar stuff gowns, tricked off with gay flowers and

ribbons, instead of striking me as merely ridiculous, had an appearance

that was both ghostly and awe-inspiring. My fancy seemed to glean from

their yellow withered faces and blinking eyes, ocular proof of the fact

that they had succeeded in establishing themselves on at least a good

footing with the ghosts who haunted the castle, as it derived auricular

confirmation of the same fact from the wretched French which they

croaked, partly between their tightly-closed blue lips and partly

through their long thin noses, and also that they themselves possessed

the power of setting trouble and dire mischief at work. My uncle, who

always had a keen eye for a bit of fun, entangled the old dames in his

ironical way in such a mish-mash of nonsensical rubbish that, had I

been in any other mood, I should not have known how to swallow down my

immoderate laughter; but, as I have just said, the Baronesses and their

twaddle were, and continued to be, in my regard, ghostly, so that my

old uncle, who was aiming at affording me an especial diversion,

glanced across at me time after time utterly astonished. So after

dinner, when we were alone together in our room, he burst out, "But in

Heaven's name, cousin, tell me what is the matter with you? You don't

laugh; you don't talk; you don't eat; and you don't drink. Are you ill,

or is anything else the matter with you?" I now hesitated not a moment

to tell him circumstantially all my terrible, awful experiences of the

previous night I did not conceal anything, and above all I did not

conceal that I had drunk a good deal of punch, and had been reading

Schiller's "Ghostseer." "This I must confess to," I add, "for only so

can I credibly explain how it was that my over-strained and active

imagination could create all those ghostly spirits, which only exist

within the sphere of my own brain." I fully expected that my uncle

would now pepper me well with the stinging pellets of his wit for this

my fanciful ghost-seeing; but, on the contrary, he grew very grave, and

his eyes became riveted in a set stare upon the floor, until he jerked

up his head and said, fixing me with his keen fiery eyes, "Your book I

am not acquainted with, cousin; but your ghostly visitants were due

neither to it nor to the fumes of the punch. I must tell you that I

dreamt exactly the same things that you saw and heard. Like you, I sat

in the easy-chair beside the fire (at least I dreamt so); but what was

only revealed to you as slight noises I saw and distinctly comprehended

with the eye of my mind. Yes, I beheld that foul fiend come in,

stealthily and feebly step across to the bricked-up door, and scratch

at the wall in hopeless despair until the blood gushed out from beneath

his torn finger-nails; then he went downstairs, took a horse out of the

stable, and finally put him back again. Did you also hear the cock

crowing in a distant farmyard up at the village? You came and awoke me,

and I soon resisted the baneful ghost of that terrible man, who is

still able to disturb in this fearful way the quiet lives of the

living." The old gentleman stopped; and I did not like to ask him

further questions, being well aware that he would explain everything to

me when he deemed that the proper time was come for doing so. After

sitting for a while, deeply absorbed in his own thoughts, he went on,

"Cousin, do you think you have courage enough to encounter the ghost

again now that you know all that happens,--that is to say, along with

me?" Of course I declared that I now felt quite strong enough, and

ready for what he wished. "Then let us watch together during the coming

night," the old gentleman went on to say. "There is a voice within me

telling me that this evil spirit must fly, not so much before the power

of my will as before my courage, which rests upon a basis of firm

conviction. I feel that it is not at all presumption in me, but rather

a good and pious deed, if I venture life and limb to exorcise this foul

fiend that is banishing the sons from the old castle of their

ancestors. But what am I thinking about? There can be no risk in the

case at all, for with such a firm, honest mind and pious trust that I

feel I possess, I and everybody cannot fail to be, now and always,

victorious over such ghostly antagonists. And yet if, after all, it

should be God's will that this evil power be enabled to work me

mischief, then you must bear witness, cousin, that I fell in honest

Christian fight against the spirit of hell which was here busy about

its fiendish work. As for yourself, keep at a distance; no harm will

happen to you then."

Our attention was busily engaged with divers kinds of business until

evening came. As on the day before, Francis had cleared away the

remains of the supper, and brought us our punch. The full moon shone

brightly through the gleaming clouds, the sea-waves roared, and the

night-wind howled and shook the oriel window till the panes rattled.

Although inwardly excited, we forced ourselves to converse on

indifferent topics. The old gentleman had placed his striking watch on

the table; it struck twelve. Then the door flew open with a terrific

bang, and, just as on the preceding night, soft slow footsteps moved

stealthily across the hall in a diagonal direction, whilst there were

the same sounds of sighing and moaning. My uncle turned pale, but his

eyes shone with an unusual brilliance. He rose from his arm-chair,

stretching his tall figure up to its full height, so that as he stood

there with his left arm propped against his side and with his right

stretched out towards the middle of the hall, he had the appearance of

a hero issuing his commands. But the sighing and moaning were growing

every moment louder and more perceptible, and then the scratching at

the wall began more horribly even than on the previous night. My uncle

strode forwards straight towards the walled-up door, and his steps were

so firm that they echoed along the floor. He stopped immediately in

front of the place, where the scratching noise continued to grow worse

and worse, and said in a strong solemn voice, such as I had never

before heard from his lips, "Daniel, Daniel! what are you doing here at

this hour?" Then there was a horrible unearthly scream, followed by a

dull thud as if a heavy weight had fallen to the ground. "Seek for

pardon and mercy at the throne of the Almighty; that is your place.

Away with you from the scenes of this life, in which you can nevermore

have part." And as the old gentleman uttered these words in a tone

still stronger than before, a feeble wail seemed to pass through the

air and die away in the blustering of the storm, which was just

beginning to rage. Crossing over to the door, the old gentleman slammed

it to, so that the echo rang loudly through the empty anteroom. There

was something so supernatural almost in both his language and his

gestures that I was deeply struck with awe. On resuming his seat in his

arm-chair his face was as if transfigured; he folded his hands and

prayed inwardly. In this way several minutes passed, when he asked me

in that gentle tone which always went right to my heart, and which he

always had so completely at his command, "Well, cousin?" Agitated and

shaken by awe, terror, fear, and pious respect and love, I threw myself

upon my knees and rained down my warm tears upon the hand he offered

me. He clasped me in his arms, and pressing me fervently to his heart

said very tenderly, "Now we will go and have a good quiet sleep, good

cousin;" and we did so. And as nothing of an unusual nature occurred on

the following night, we soon recovered our former cheerfulness, to the

prejudice of the old Baronesses; for though there did still continue to

be something ghostly about them and their odd manners, yet it emanated

from a diverting ghost which the old gentleman knew how to call up in a

droll fashion.

At length, after the lapse of several days, the Baron put in his

appearance, along with his wife and a numerous train of servants for

the hunting; the guests who had been invited also arrived, and the

castle, now suddenly awakened to animation, became the scene of the

noisy life and revelry which have been before described. When the Baron

came into our hall soon after his arrival, he seemed to be disagreeably

surprised at the change in our quarters. Casting an ill-tempered glance

towards the bricked-up door, he turned abruptly round and passed his

hand across his forehead, as if desirous of banishing some disagreeable

recollection. My great-uncle mentioned the damage done to the

justice-hall and the adjoining apartments; but the Baron found fault

with Francis for not accommodating us with better lodgings, and he

good-naturedly requested the old gentleman to order anything he might

want to make his new room comfortable; for it was much less

satisfactory in this respect than that which he had usually occupied.

On the whole, the Baron's bearing towards my old uncle was not merely

cordial, but largely coloured by a certain deferential respect, as if

the relation in which he stood towards him was that of a younger

relative. But this was the sole trait that could in any way reconcile

me to his harsh, imperious character, which was now developed more and

more every day. As for me, he seemed to notice me but little; if he did

notice me at all, he saw in me nothing more than the usual secretary or

clerk. On the occasion of the very first important memorandum that I

drew up, he began to point out mistakes, as he conceived, in the

wording. My blood boiled, and I was about to make a caustic reply, when

my uncle interposed, informing him briefly that I did my work exactly

in the way he wished, and that in legal matters of this kind he alone

was responsible. When we were left alone, I complained bitterly of the

Baron, who would, I said, always inspire me with growing aversion. "I

assure you, cousin," replied the old gentleman, "that the Baron,

notwithstanding his unpleasant manner, is really one of the most

excellent and kind-hearted men in the world. As I have already told

you, he did not assume these manners until the time he became lord of

the entail; previous to then he was a modest, gentle youth. Besides, he

is not, after all, so bad as you make him out to be; and further, I

should like to know why you are so averse to him." As my uncle said

these words he smiled mockingly, and the blood rushed hotly and

furiously into my face. I could not pretend to hide from myself--I saw

it only too clearly, and felt it too unmistakably--that my peculiar

antipathy to the Baron sprang out of the fact that I loved, even to

madness, a being who appeared to me to be the loveliest and most

fascinating of her sex who had ever trod the earth. This lady was none

other than the Baroness herself. Her appearance exercised a powerful

and irresistible charm upon me at the very moment of her arrival, when

I saw her traversing the apartments in her Russian sable cloak, which

fitted close to the exquisite symmetry of her shape, and with a rich

veil wrapped about her head. Moreover, the circumstance that the

two old aunts, with still more extraordinary gowns and be-ribboned

head-dresses than I had yet seen them wear, were sweeping along one on

each side of her and cackling their welcomes in French, whilst the

Baroness was looking about her in a way so gentle as to baffle all

description, nodding graciously first to one and then to another, and

then adding in her flute-like voice a few German words in the pure

sonorous dialect of Courland--all this formed a truly remarkable and

unusual picture, and my imagination involuntarily connected it with the

ghostly midnight visitant,--the Baroness being the angel of light who

was to break the ban of the spectral powers of evil. This wondrously

lovely lady stood forth in startling reality before my mind's eye. At

that time she could hardly be nineteen years of age, and her face, as

delicately beautiful as her form, bore the impression of the most

angelic good-nature; but what I especially noticed was the

indescribable fascination of her dark eyes, for a soft melancholy gleam

of aspiration shone in them like dewy moonshine, whilst a perfect

elysium of rapture and delight was revealed in her sweet and beautiful

smile. She often seemed completely lost in her own thoughts, and at

such moments her lovely face was swept by dark and fleeting shadows.

Many observers would have concluded that she was affected by some

distressing pain; but it rather seemed to me that she was struggling

with gloomy apprehensions of a future pregnant with dark misfortunes;

and with these, strangely enough, I connected the apparition of the

castle, though I could not give the least explanation of why I did so.

On the morning following the Baron's arrival, when the company

assembled to breakfast, my old uncle introduced me to the Baroness;

and, as usually happens with people in the frame of mind in which I

then was, I behaved with indescribable absurdity. In answer to the

beautiful lady's simple inquiries how I liked the castle, &c., I

entangled myself in the most extraordinary and nonsensical phrases, so

that the old aunts ascribed my embarrassment simply and solely to my

profound respect for the noble lady, and thought they were called

upon condescendingly to take my part, which they did by praising

me in French as a very nice and clever young man, as a _garcon tres

joli_ (handsome lad). This vexed me; so suddenly recovering my

self-possession, I threw out a _bonmot_ in better French than the old

dames were mistresses of; whereupon they opened their eyes wide in

astonishment, and pampered their long thin noses with a liberal supply

of snuff. From the Baroness's turning from me with a more serious air

to talk to some other lady, I perceived that my _bonmot_ bordered

closely upon folly; this vexed me still more, and I wished the two old

ladies to the devil. My old uncle's irony had long before brought me

through the stage of the languishing love-sick swain, who in childish

infatuation coddles his love-troubles; but I knew very well that the

Baroness had made a deeper and more powerful impression upon my heart

than any other woman had hitherto done. I saw and heard nothing but

her; nevertheless I had a most explicit and unequivocal consciousness

that it would be not only absurd, but even utter madness to dream of an

amour, albeit I perceived no less clearly the impossibility of gazing

and adoring at a distance like a love-lorn boy. Of such conduct I

should have been perfectly ashamed. But what I could do, and what I

resolved to do, was to become more intimate with this beautiful girl

without allowing her to get any glimpse of my real feelings, to drink

the sweet poison of her looks and words, and then, when far away from

her, to bear her image in my heart for many, many days, perhaps for

ever. I was excited by this romantic and chivalric attachment to such a

degree, that, as I pondered over it during sleepless nights, I was

childish enough to address myself in pathetic monologues, and even to

sigh lugubriously, "Seraphina! O Seraphina!" till at last my old uncle

woke up and cried, "Cousin, cousin! I believe you are dreaming aloud.

Do it by daytime, if you can possibly contrive it, but at night have

the goodness to let me sleep." I was very much afraid that the old

gentleman, who had not failed to remark my excitement on the Baroness's

arrival, had heard the name, and would overwhelm me with his sarcastic

wit. But next morning all he said, as we went into the justice-hall,

was, "God grant every man the proper amount of common sense, and

sufficient watchfulness to keep it well under hand. It's a bad look-out

when a man becomes converted into a fantastic coxcomb without so much

as a word of warning." Then he took his seat at the great table and

added, "Write neatly and distinctly, good cousin, that I may be able to

read it without any trouble."

The respect, nay, the almost filial veneration which the Baron

entertained towards my uncle, was manifested on all occasions.

Thus, at the dinner-table he had to occupy the seat--which many envied

him--beside the Baroness; as for me, chance threw me first in one place

and then in another; but for the most part, two or three officers from

the neighbouring capital were wont to attach me to them, in order that

they might empty to their own satisfaction their budget of news and

amusing anecdotes, whilst diligently passing the wine about. Thus it

happened that for several days in succession I sat at the bottom of the

table at a great distance from the Baroness. At length, however, chance

brought me nearer to her. Just as the doors of the dining-hall were

thrown open for the assembled company, I happened to be in the midst of

a conversation with the Baroness's companion and confidante,--a lady no

longer in the bloom of youth, but by no means ill-looking, and not

without intelligence,--and she seemed to take some interest in my

remarks. According to etiquette, it was my duty to offer her my arm,

and I was not a little pleased when she took her place quite close to

the Baroness, who gave her a friendly nod. It may be readily imagined

that all that I now said was intended not only for my fair neighbour,

but also mainly for the Baroness. Whether it was that the inward

tension of my feelings imparted an especial animation to all I said, at

any rate my companion's attention became more riveted with every

succeeding moment; in fact, she was at last entirely absorbed in the

visions of the kaleidoscopic world which I unfolded to her gaze. As

remarked, she was not without intelligence, and it soon came to pass

that our conversation, completely independent of the multitude of words

spoken by the other guests (which rambled about first to this subject

and then to that), maintained its own free course, launching an

effective word now and again whither I wanted it. For I did not fail to

observe that my companion shot a significant glance or two across to

the Baroness, and that the latter took pains to listen to us. And this

was particularly the case when the conversation turned upon music and I

began to speak with enthusiasm of this glorious and sacred art; nor did

I conceal that, despite the fact of my having devoted myself to the dry

tedious study of the law, I possessed tolerable skill on the

harpsichord, could sing, and had even set several songs to music.

The majority of the company had gone into another room to take coffee

and liqueurs; but, unawares, without knowing how it came about, I found

myself near the Baroness, who was talking with her confidante. She at

once addressed me, repeating in a still more cordial manner and in the

tone in which one talks to an acquaintance, her inquiries as to how I

liked living in the castle, &c. I assured her that for the first few

days, not only the dreary desolation of the situation, but the ancient

castle itself had affected me strangely, but even in this mood I had

found much of deep interest, and that now my only wish was to be

excused from the stirring scenes of the hunt, for I had not been

accustomed to them. The Baroness smiled and said, "I can readily

believe that this wild life in our fir forests cannot be very congenial

to you. You are a musician, and, unless I am utterly mistaken, a poet

as well. I am passionately fond of both arts. I can also play the harp

a little, but I have to do without it here in R--sitten, for my husband

does not like me to bring it with me. Its soft strains would harmonize

but ill with the wild shouts of the hunters and the ringing blare of

their bugles, which are the only sounds that ought to be heard here.

And O heaven! how I should like to hear a little music!" I protested

that I would exert all the skill I had at my command to fulfil her

wish, for there must surely without doubt be an instrument of some kind

in the castle, even though it were only an old harpsichord. Then the

Lady Adelheid (the Baroness's confidante) burst out into a silvery

laugh and asked, did I not know that within the memory of man no other

instrument had ever been heard in the castle except cracked trumpets,

and hunting-horns which in the midst of joy would only sound lugubrious

notes, and the twanging fiddles, untuned violoncellos, and braying

oboes of itinerant musicians. The Baroness reiterated her wish that she

should like to have some music, and especially should like to hear me;

and both she and Adelheid racked their brains all to no purpose to

devise some scheme by which they could get a decent pianoforte brought

to the Castle. At this moment old Francis crossed the room. "Here's the

man who always can give the best advice, and can procure everything,

even things before unheard of and unseen." With these words the Lady

Adelheid called him to her, and as she endeavoured to make him

comprehend what it was that was wanted, the Baroness listened with her

hands clasped and her head bent forward, looking upon the old man's

face with a gentle smile. She made a most attractive picture, like some

lovely, winsome child that is all eagerness to have a wished-for toy in

its hands. Francis, after having adduced in his prolix manner several

reasons why it would be downright impossible to procure such a

wonderful instrument in such a big hurry, finally stroked his beard

with an air of self-flattery and said, "But the land-steward's lady up

at the village performs on the manichord, or whatever is the outlandish

name they now call it, with uncommon skill, and sings to it so fine and

mournful-like that it makes your eyes red, just like onions do, and

makes you feel as if you would like to dance with both legs at once."

"And you say she has a pianoforte?" interposed Lady Adelheid. "Aye,

to be sure," continued the old man; "it comed straight from Dresden;

a"--("Oh, that's fine!" interrupted the Baroness)--"a beautiful

instrument," went on the old man, "but a little weakly; for not long

ago, when the organist began to play on it the hymn 'In all Thy

works,'[5] he broke it all to pieces, so that"--("Good gracious!"

exclaimed both the Baroness and Lady Adelheid)--"so that," went on the

old man again, "it had to be taken to R---- to be mended, and cost a

lot of money." "But has it come back again?" asked Lady Adelheid

impatiently. "Aye, to be sure, my lady, and the steward's lady will

reckon it a high honour----" At this moment the Baron chanced to pass.

He looked across at our group rather astonished, and whispered with a

sarcastic smile to the Baroness, "So you have to take counsel of

Francis again, I see?" The Baroness cast down her eyes blushing, whilst

old Francis breaking off terrified, suddenly threw himself into

military posture, his head erect, and his arms close and straight down

his side. The old aunts came sailing down upon us in their stuff gowns

and carried off the Baroness. Lady Adelheid followed her, and I was

left alone as if spell-bound. A struggle began to rage within me

between my rapturous anticipations of now being able to be near her

whom I adored, who completely swayed all my thoughts and feelings, and

my sulky ill-humour and annoyance at the Baron, whom I regarded as a

barbarous tyrant. If he were not, would the grey-haired old servant

have assumed such a slavish attitude?

"Do you hear? Can you see, I say?" cried my great-uncle, tapping me on

the shoulder;--we were going upstairs to our own apartments. "Don't

force yourself so on the Baroness's attention," he said when we reached

the room. "What good can come of it? Leave that to the young fops who

like to pay court to ladies; there are plenty of them to do it." I

related how it had all come about, and challenged him to say if I had

deserved his reproof. His only reply to this, however, was, "Humph!

humph!" as he drew on his dressing-gown. Then, having lit his pipe, he

took his seat in his easy-chair and began to talk about the adventures

of the hunt on the preceding day, bantering me on my bad shots. All was

quiet in the castle; all the visitors, both gentlemen and ladies, were

busy in their own rooms dressing for the evening. For the musicians

with the twanging fiddles, untuned violoncellos, and braying oboes, of

whom Lady Adelheid had spoken, were come, and a merrymaking of no less

importance than a ball, to be given in the best possible style, was in

anticipation. My old uncle, preferring a quiet sleep to such foolish

pastimes, stayed in his chamber. I, however, had just finished dressing

when there came a light tap at our door, and Francis entered. Smiling

in his self-satisfied way, he announced to me that the manichord had

just arrived from the land-steward's lady in a sledge, and had been

carried into the Baroness's apartments. Lady Adelheid sent her

compliments and would I go over at once. It may be conceived how my

pulse beat, and also with what a delicious tremor at heart I opened the

door of the room in which I was to find _her_. Lady Adelheid came to

meet me with a joyful smile. The Baroness, already in full dress for

the ball, was sitting in a meditative attitude beside the mysterious

case or box, in which slumbered the music that I was called upon to

awaken. When she rose, her beauty shone upon me with such glorious

splendour that I stood staring at her unable to utter a word. "Come,

Theodore"--(for, according to the kindly custom of the North, which is

found again farther south, she addressed everybody by his or her

Christian name)--"Come, Theodore," she said pleasantly, "here's the

instrument come. Heaven grant it be not altogether unworthy of your

skill!" As I opened the lid I was greeted by the rattling of a score of

broken strings, and when I attempted to strike a chord, the effect was

hideous and abominable, for all the strings which were not broken were

completely out of tune. "I doubt not our friend the organist has been

putting his delicate little hands upon it again," said Lady Adelheid

laughing; but the Baroness was very much annoyed and said, "Oh, it

really is a slice of bad luck! I am doomed, I see, never to have any

pleasure here." I searched in the case of the instrument, and

fortunately found some coils of strings, but no tuning-key anywhere.

Hence fresh laments. "Any key will do if the ward will fit on the

pegs," I explained; then both Lady Adelheid and the Baroness ran

backwards and forwards in gay spirits, and before long a whole magazine

of bright keys lay before me on the sounding-board.

Then I set to work diligently, and both the ladies assisted me all they

could, trying first one peg and then another. At length one of the

tiresome keys fitted, and they exclaimed joyfully, "This will do! it

will do!" But when I had drawn the first creaking string up to just

proper pitch, it suddenly snapped, and the ladies recoiled in alarm.

The Baroness, handling the brittle wires with her delicate little

fingers, gave me the numbers as I wanted them, and carefully held the

coil whilst I unrolled it. Suddenly one of them coiled itself up again

with a whirr, making the Baroness utter an impatient "Oh!" Lady

Adelheid enjoyed a hearty laugh, whilst I pursued the tangled coil to

the corner of the room. After we had all united our efforts to extract

a perfectly straight string from it, and had tried it again, to our

mortification it again broke; but at last--at last we found some good

coils; the strings began to hold, and gradually the discordant jangling

gave place to pure melodious chords. "Ha! it will go! it will go! The

instrument is getting in tune!" exclaimed the Baroness, looking at me

with her lovely smile. How quickly did this common interest banish all

the strangeness and shyness which the artificial manners of social

intercourse impose. A kind of confidential familiarity arose between

us, which, burning through me like an electric current, consumed the

timorous nervousness and constraint which had lain like ice upon my

heart. That peculiar mood of diffused melting sadness which is

engendered of such love as mine was had quite left me; and accordingly,

when the pianoforte was brought into something like tune, instead of

interpreting my deeper feelings in dreamy improvisations, as I had

intended, I began with those sweet and charming canzonets which have

reached us from the South. During this or the other _Senza di te_

(Without thee), or _Sentimi idol mio_ (Hear me, my darling), or _Almen

se nonpos'io_ (At least if I cannot), with numberless _Morir mi sentos_

(I feel I am dying), and _Addios_ (Farewell), and _O dios!_ (O

Heaven!), a brighter and brighter brilliancy shone in Seraphina's

eyes. She had seated herself close beside me at the instrument; I felt

her breath fanning my cheek; and as she placed her arm behind me

on the chair-back, a white ribbon, getting disengaged from her

beautiful ball-dress, fell across my shoulder, where by my singing and

Seraphina's soft sighs it was kept in a continual flutter backwards and

forwards, like a true love-messenger. It is a wonder how I kept from

losing my head.

As I was running my fingers aimlessly over the keys, thinking of a new

song, Lady Adelheid, who had been sitting in one of the corners of the

room, ran across to us, and, kneeling down before the Baroness, begged

her, as she took both her hands and clasped them to her bosom, "Oh,

dear Baroness! darling Seraphina! now you must sing too." To this she

replied, "Whatever are you thinking about, Adelheid? How could I dream

of letting our virtuoso friend hear such poor singing as mine?" And she

looked so lovely, as, like a shy good child, she cast down her eyes and

blushed, timidly contending with the desire to sing. That I too added

my entreaties can easily be imagined; nor, upon her making mention of

some little Courland _Volkslieder_ or popular songs, did I desist from

my entreaties until she stretched out her left hand towards the

instrument and tried a few notes by way of introduction. I rose to make

way for her at the piano, but she would not permit me to do so,

asserting that she could not play a single chord, and for that reason,

since she would have to sing without accompaniment, her performance

would be poor and uncertain. She began in a sweet voice, pure as a

bell, that came straight from her heart, and sang a song whose simple

melody bore all the characteristics of those _Volkslieder_ which

proceed from the lips with such a lustrous brightness, so to speak,

that we cannot help perceiving in the glad light which surrounds us our

own higher poetic nature. There lies a mysterious charm in the

insignificant words of the text which converts them into a hieroglyphic

scroll representative of the unutterable emotions which throng our

hearts. Who does not know that Spanish canzonet the substance of which

is in words little more than, "With my maiden I embarked on the sea; a

storm came on, and my timid maiden was tossed up and down: nay, I will

never again embark on the sea with my maiden?" And the Baroness's

little song contained nothing more than, "Lately I was dancing with my

sweetheart at a wedding; a flower fell out of my hair; he picked it up

and gave it me, and said, 'When, sweetheart mine, shall we go to a

wedding again?'" When, on her beginning the second verse of the song, I

played an _arpeggio_ accompaniment, and further when, in the

inspiration which now took possession of me, I at once stole from the

Baroness's own lips the melodies of the other songs she sang, I

doubtless appeared in her eyes, and in those of the Lady Adelheid, to

be one of the greatest of masters in the art of music, for they

overwhelmed me with enthusiastic praise. The lights and illuminations

from the ball-room, situated in one of the wings of the castle, now

shone across into the Baroness's chamber, whilst a discordant bleating

of trumpets and French horns announced that it was time to gather for

the ball. "Oh, now I must go," said the Baroness. I started up from the

pianoforte. "You have afforded me a delightful hour; these have been

the pleasantest moments I have ever spent in R--sitten," she added,

offering me her hand; and as in the extreme intoxication of delight I

pressed it to my lips, I felt her fingers close upon my hand with a

sudden convulsive tremor. I do not know how I managed to reach my

uncle's chamber, and still less how I got into the ball-room. There was

a certain Gascon who was afraid to go into battle since he was all

heart, and every wound would be fatal to him. I might be compared to

him; and so might everybody else who is in the same mood that I

was in; every touch was then fatal. The Baroness's hand--her tremulous

fingers--had affected me like a poisoned arrow; my blood was burning in

my veins.

On the following morning my old uncle, without asking any direct

questions, had soon drawn from me a full account of the hour I had

spent in the Baroness's society, and I was not a little abashed when

the smile vanished from his lips and the jocular note from his words,

and he grew serious all at once, saying, "Cousin, I beg you will resist

this folly which is taking such a powerful hold upon you. Let me tell

you that your present conduct, as harmless as it now appears, may lead

to the most terrible consequences. In your thoughtless fatuity you are

standing on a thin crust of ice, which may break under you ere you are

aware of it, and let you in with a plunge. I shall take good care not

to hold you fast by the coat-tails, for I know you will scramble out

again pretty quick, and then, when you are lying sick unto death, you

will say, 'I got this little bit of a cold in a dream.' But I warn you

that a malignant fever will gnaw at your vitals, and years will pass

before you recover yourself, and are a man again. The deuce take your

music if you can put it to no better use than to cozen sentimental

young women out of their quiet peace of mind." "But," I began,

interrupting the old gentleman, "but have I ever thought of insinuating

myself as the Baroness's lover?" "You puppy!" cried the old gentleman,

"if I thought so I would pitch you out of this window." At this

juncture the Baron entered, and put an end to the painful conversation;

and the business to which I now had to turn my attention brought me

back from my love-sick reveries, in which I saw and thought of nothing

but Seraphina.

In general society the Baroness only occasionally interchanged a few

friendly words with me; but hardly an evening passed in which a secret

message was not brought to me from Lady Adelheid, summoning me to

Seraphina. It soon came to pass that our music alternated with

conversations on divers topics. Whenever I and Seraphina began to get

too absorbed in sentimental dreams and vague aspirations, the Lady

Adelheid, though now hardly young enough to be so naive and droll as

she once was, yet intervened with all sorts of merry and somewhat

chaotic nonsense. From several hints she let fall, I soon discovered

that the Baroness really had something preying upon her mind, even as I

thought I had read in her eyes the very first moment I saw her; and I

clearly discerned the hostile influence of the apparition of the

castle. Something terrible had happened or was to happen. Although I

was often strongly impelled to tell Seraphina in what way I had come in

contact with the invisible enemy, and how my old uncle had banished

him, undoubtedly for ever, I yet felt my tongue fettered by a

hesitation which was inexplicable to myself even, whenever I opened my

mouth to speak.

One day the Baroness failed to appear at the dinner table; it was said

that she was a little unwell, and could not leave her room. Sympathetic

inquiries were addressed to the Baron as to whether her illness was of

a grave nature. He smiled in a very disagreeable way, in fact, it was

almost like bitter irony, and said, "Nothing more than a slight

catarrh, which she has got from our blustering sea-breezes. They can't

tolerate any sweet voices; the only sounds they will endure are the

hoarse 'Halloos' of the chase." At these words the Baron hurled a keen

searching look at me across the table, for I sat obliquely opposite to

him. He had not spoken to his neighbour, but to me. Lady Adelheid, who

sat beside me, blushed a scarlet red. Fixing her eyes upon the plate in

front of her, and scribbling about on it with her fork, she whispered,

"And yet you must see Seraphina to-day; your sweet songs shall to-day

also bring soothing and comfort to her poor heart." Adelheid addressed

these words to me; but at this moment it struck me that I was almost

apparently entangled in a base and forbidden intrigue with the

Baroness, which could only end in some terrible crime. My old uncle's

warning fell heavily upon my heart. What should I do? Not see her

again? That was impossible so long as I remained in the castle; and

even if I might leave the castle and return to K----, I had not the

will to do it Oh! I felt only too deeply that I was not strong enough

to shake myself out of this dream, which was mocking one with delusive

hopes of happiness. Adelheid I almost regarded in the light of a common

go-between; I would despise her, and yet, upon second thoughts, I could

not help being ashamed of my folly. Had anything ever happened during

those blissful evening hours which could in the least degree lead to

any nearer relation with Seraphina than was permissible by propriety

and morality? How dare I let the thought enter my mind that the

Baroness would ever entertain any warm feeling for me? And yet I was

convinced of the danger of my situation.

We broke up from dinner earlier than usual, in order to go again after

some wolves which had been seen in the fir-wood close by the castle. A

little hunting was just the thing I wanted in the excited frame of mind

in which I then was. I expressed to my uncle my resolve to accompany

the party; he gave me an approving smile and said, "That's right; I am

glad you are going out with them for once. I shall stay at home, so you

can take my firelock with you, and buckle my whinger round your waist;

in case of need it is a good and trusty weapon, if you only keep your

presence of mind." That part of the wood in which the wolves were

supposed to lie was surrounded by the huntsmen. It was bitterly cold;

the wind howled through the firs, and drove the light snow-flakes right

in my face, so that when at length it came on to be dusk I could

scarcely see six paces before me. Quite benumbed by the cold, I left

the place that had been assigned to me and sought shelter deeper in the

wood. There, leaning against a tree, with my firelock under my arm, I

forgot the wolf-hunt entirely; my thoughts had travelled back to

Seraphina's cosy room. After a time shots were heard in the far

distance; but at the same moment there was a rustling in the reed-bank,

and I saw not ten paces from me a huge wolf about to run past me. I

took aim, and fired, but missed. The brute sprang towards me with

glaring eyes; I should have been lost had I not had sufficient presence

of mind to draw my hunting-knife, and, just as the brute was flying at

me, to drive it deep into his throat, so that the blood spurted out

over my hand and arm. One of the Baron's keepers, who had stood not far

from me, came running up with a loud shout, and at his repeated

"Halloo!" all the rest soon gathered round us. The Baron hastened up to

me, saying, "For God's sake, you are bleeding--you are bleeding. Are

you wounded?" I assured him that I was not Then he turned to the keeper

who had stood nearest to me, and overwhelmed him with reproaches for

not having shot after me when I missed. And notwithstanding that the

man maintained this to have been perfectly impossible, since in the

very same moment the wolf had rushed upon me, and any shot would have

been at the risk of hitting me, the Baron persisted in saying that he

ought to have taken especial care of me as a less experienced hunter.

Meanwhile the keepers had lifted up the dead animal; it was one of the

largest that had been seen for a long time; and everybody admired my

courage and resolution, although to myself what I had done appeared

quite natural I had not for a moment thought of the danger I had run.

The Baron in particular seemed to take very great interest in the

matter; I thought he would never be done asking me whether, though I

was not wounded by the brute, I did not fear the ill effects that would

follow from the fright As we went back to the castle, the Baron took me

by the arm like a friend, and I had to give my firelock to a keeper to

carry. He still continued to talk about my heroic deed, so that

eventually I came to believe in my own heroism, and lost all my

constraint and embarrassment, and felt that I had established myself

in the Baron's eyes as a man of courage and uncommon resolution. The

schoolboy had passed his examination successfully, was now no longer a

schoolboy, and all the submissive nervousness of the schoolboy had left

him. I now conceived I had earned a right to try and gain Seraphina's

favour. Everybody knows of course what ridiculous combinations the

fancy of a love-sick youth is capable of. In the castle, over the

smoking punchbowl, by the fireside, I was the hero of the hour. Besides

myself the Baron was the only one of the party who had killed a

wolf--also a formidable one; the rest had to be content with ascribing

their bad shots to the weather and the darkness, and with relating

thrilling stories of their former exploits in hunting and the dangers

they had escaped. I thought, too, that I might reap an especial share

of praise and admiration from my old uncle as well; and so, with a view

to this end, I related to him my adventure at pretty considerable

length, nor did I forget to paint the savage brute's wild and

bloodthirsty appearance in very startling colours. The old gentleman,

however, only laughed in my face and said, "God is powerful even in the

weak."

Tired of drinking and of the company, I was going quietly along the

corridor towards the justice-hall when I saw a figure with a light slip

in before me. On entering the hall I saw it was Lady Adelheid. "This is

the way we have to wander about like ghosts or night-walkers in order

to catch you, my brave slayer of wolves," she whispered, taking my arm.

The words "ghosts" and "sleep-walkers," pronounced in the place where

we were, fell like lead upon my heart; they immediately brought to my

recollection the ghostly apparitions of those two awful nights. As

then, so now, the wind came howling in from the sea in deep organ-like

cadences, rattling the oriel windows again and again and whistling

fearfully through them, whilst the moon cast her pale gleams exactly

upon the mysterious part of the wall where the scratching had been

heard. I fancied I discerned stains of blood upon it. Doubtless Lady

Adelheid, who still had hold of my hand, must have felt the cold icy

shiver which ran through me. "What's the matter with you?" she

whispered softly; "what's the matter with you? You are as cold as

marble. Come, I will call you back into life. Do you know how very

impatient the Baroness is to see you? And until she does see you she

will not believe that the ugly wolf has not really bitten you. She is

in a terrible state of anxiety about you. Why, my friend,--oh! how have

you awakened this interest in the little Seraphina? I have never seen

her like this. Ah!--so now the pulse is beginning to prickle; see how

quickly the dead man comes to life! Well, come along--but softly,

still! Come, we must go to the little Baroness." I suffered myself to

be led away in silence. The way in which Adelheid spoke of the Baroness

seemed to me undignified, and the innuendo of an understanding between

us positively shameful. When I entered the room along with Adelheid,

Seraphina, with a low-breathed "Oh!" advanced three or four paces

quickly to meet me; but then, as if recollecting herself, she stood

still in the middle of the room. I ventured to take her hand and press

it to my lips. Allowing it to rest in mine, she asked, "But, for

Heaven's sake! is it your business to meddle with wolves? Don't you

know that the fabulous days of Orpheus and Amphion are long past, and

that wild beasts have quite lost all respect for even the most

admirable of singers?" But this gleeful turn, by which the Baroness at

once effectually guarded against all misinterpretation of her warm

interest in me, I was put immediately into the proper key and the

proper mood. Why I did not take my usual place at the pianoforte I

cannot explain, even to myself, nor why I sat down beside the Baroness

on the sofa. Her question, "And what were you doing then to get into

danger?" was an indication of our tacit agreement that conversation,

not music, was to engage our attention for that evening. After I had

narrated my adventure in the wood, and mentioned the warm interest

which the Baron had taken in it, delicately hinting that I had not

thought him capable of so much feeling, the Baroness began in a tender

and almost melancholy tone, "Oh! how violent and rude you must think

the Baron; but I assure you it is only whilst we are living within

these gloomy, ghostly walls, and during the time there is hunting going

on in the dismal fir-forests, that his character completely changes, at

least his outward behaviour does. What principally disquiets him in

this unpleasant way is the thought, which constantly haunts him, that

something terrible will happen here. And that undoubtedly accounts for

the fact of his being so greatly agitated by your adventure, which

fortunately has had no ill consequences. He won't have the meanest of

his servants exposed to danger, if he knows it, still less a new-won

friend whom he has come to like; and I am perfectly certain that

Gottlieb, whom he blames for having left you in the lurch, will be

punished; even if he escapes being locked up in a dungeon, he will yet

have to suffer the punishment, so mortifying to a hunter, of going out

the next time there is a hunt with only a club in his hand instead of a

rifle. The circumstance that hunts like those which are held here are

always attended with danger, and the fact that the Baron, though always

fearing some sad accident, is yet so fond of hunting that he cannot

desist from provoking the demon of mischief, make his existence here a

kind of conflict, the ill effects of which I also have to feel. Many

queer stories are current about his ancestor who established the

entail; and I know myself that there is some dark family secret locked

within these walls like a horrible ghost which drives away the

owners, and makes it impossible for them to bear with it longer than a

few weeks at a time--and that only amid a tumult of jovial guests. But

I--Oh! how lonely I am in the midst of this noisy, merry company! And

how the ghostly influences which breathe upon me from the walls stir

and excite my very heart! You, my dear friend, have given me, through

your musical skill, the first cheerful moments I have spent here. How

can I thank you sufficiently for your kindness!" I kissed the hand she

offered to me, saying, that even on the very first day, or rather

during the very first night, I had experienced the ghostliness of the

place in all its horrors. The Baroness fixed her staring eyes upon my

face, as I went on to describe the ghostly character of the building,

discernible everywhere throughout the castle, particularly in the

decorations of the justice-hall, and to speak of the roaring of the

wind from the sea, &c. Possibly my voice and my expressions indicated

that I had something more in my mind than what I said; at any rate when

I concluded, the Baroness cried vehemently, "No, no; something dreadful

has happened to you in that hall, which I never enter without

shuddering. I beg you--pray, pray, tell me all."

Seraphina's face had grown deadly pale; and I saw plainly that it would

be more advisable to give her a faithful account of all that I had

experienced than to leave her excited imagination to conjure up some

apparition that might perhaps, in a way I could not foresee, be far

more horrible than what I had actually encountered. As she listened to

me her fear and strained anxiety increased from moment to moment; and

when I mentioned the scratching on the wall she screamed, "It's

horrible! Yes, yes, it's in that wall that the awful secret is

concealed!" But as I went on to describe with what spiritual power and

superiority of will my old uncle had banished the ghost, she sighed

deeply, as though she had shaken off a heavy burden that had weighed

oppressively upon her. She leaned back in the sofa and held her hands

before her face. Now I first noticed that Adelheid had left us. A

considerable pause ensued, and as Seraphina still continued silent, I

softly rose, and going to the pianoforte, endeavoured in swelling

chords to invoke the bright spirits of consolation to come and deliver

Seraphina from the dark influence to which my narration had subjected

her. Then I soon began to sing as softly as I was able one of the Abbe

Steffani's[6] canzonas. The melancholy strains of the _Ochi, perche

piangete_ (O eyes, why weep you?) roused Seraphina out of her reverie,

and she listened to me with a gentle smile upon her face, and bright

pearl-like tears in her eyes. How am I to account for it that I kneeled

down before her, that she bent over towards me, that I threw my arms

about her, that a long ardent kiss was imprinted on my lips? How am I

to account for it that I did not lose my senses when she drew me softly

towards her, how that I tore myself from her arms, and, quickly rising

to my feet, hurried to the pianoforte? Turning from me, the Baroness

took a few steps towards the window, then she turned round again and

approached me with an air of almost proud dignity, which was not at all

usual with her. Looking me straight in the face, she said, "Your uncle

is the most worthy old man I know; he is the guardian-angel of our

family. May he include me in his pious prayers!" I was unable to utter

a word; the subtle poison that I had imbibed with her kiss burned and

boiled in every pulse and nerve. Lady Adelheid came in. The violence of

my inward conflict burst out at length in a passionate flood of tears,

which I was unable to repress. Adelheid looked at me with wonder and

smiled dubiously;--I could have murdered her. The Baroness gave me her

hand, and said with inexpressible gentleness, "Farewell, my dear

friend. Fare you right well; and remember that nobody perhaps has ever

understood your music better than I have. Oh! these notes! they will

echo long, long in my heart." I forced myself to utter a few stupid,

disconnected words, and hurried up to my uncle's room. The old

gentleman had already gone to bed. I stayed in the hall, and falling

upon my knees, I wept aloud; I called upon my beloved by name, I gave

myself up completely and regardlessly to all the absurd folly of a

love-sick lunatic, until at last the extravagant noise I made awoke my

uncle. But his loud call, "Cousin, I believe you have gone cranky, or

else you're having another tussle with a wolf. Be off to bed with you

if you will be so very kind"--these words compelled me to enter his

room, where I got into bed with the fixed resolve to dream only of

Seraphina.

It would be somewhere past midnight when I thought I heard distant

voices, a running backwards and forwards, and an opening and banging of

doors--for I had not yet fallen asleep. I listened attentively; I heard

footsteps approaching the corridor; the hall door was opened, and soon

there came a knock at our door. "Who is there?" I cried. A voice from

without answered, "Herr Justitiarius, Herr Justitiarius, wake up, wake

up!" I recognised Francis's voice, and as I asked, "Is the castle on

fire?" the old gentleman woke up in his turn and asked, "Where--where

is there a fire? Is it that cursed apparition again? where is it?" "Oh!

please get up, Herr Justitiarius," said Francis, "Please get up; the

Baron wants you." "What does the Baron want me for?" inquired my uncle

further; "what does he want me for at this time of night? does he not

know that all law business goes to bed along with the lawyer, and

sleeps as soundly as he does?" "Oh!" cried Francis, now anxiously;

"please, Herr Justitiarius, good sir, please get up. My lady the

Baroness is dying." I started up with a cry of dismay. "Open the door

for Francis," said the old gentleman to me. I stumbled about the room

almost distracted, and could find neither door nor lock; my uncle had

to come and help me. Francis came in, his face pale and troubled, and

lit the candles. We had scarcely thrown on our clothes when we heard

the Baron calling in the hall, "Can I speak to you, good V----?" "But

what have you dressed for, cousin? the Baron only wanted me," asked the

old gentleman, on the point of going out. "I must go down--I must see

her and then die," I replied tragically, and as if my heart were rent

by hopeless grief. "Ay, just so; you are right, cousin," he said,

banging the door to in my face, so that the hinges creaked, and locking

it on the outside. At the first moment, deeply incensed at this

restraint, I thought of bursting the door open; but quickly reflecting

that this would entail the disagreeable consequences of a piece of

outrageous insanity, I resolved to await the old gentleman's return;

then however, let the cost be what it might, I would escape his

watchfulness. I heard him talking vehemently with the Baron, and

several times distinguished my own name, but could not make out

anything further. Every moment my position grew more intolerable. At

length I heard that some one brought a message to the Baron, who

immediately hurried off. My old uncle entered the room again. "She is

dead!" I cried, running towards him, "And you are a stupid fool," he

interrupted coolly; then he laid hold upon me and forced me into a

chair. "I must go down," I cried, "I must go down and see her, even

though it cost me my life." "Do so, good cousin," said he, locking the

door, taking out the key, and putting it in his pocket. I now flew into

a perfectly frantic rage; stretching out my hand towards the rifle, I

screamed, "If you don't instantly open the door I will send this bullet

through my brains." Then the old gentleman planted himself immediately

in front of me, and fixing his keen piercing eyes upon me said, "Boy,

do you think you can frighten me with your idle threats? Do you think I

should set much value on your life if you can go and throw it away in

childish folly like a broken plaything? What have you to do with the

Baron's wife? who has given you the right to insinuate yourself, like a

tiresome puppy, where you have no claim to be, and where you are not

wanted? do you wish to go and act the love-sick swain at the solemn

hour of death?" I sank back in my chair utterly confounded After a

while the old gentleman went on more gently, "And now let me tell you

that this pretended illness of the Baroness is in all probability

nothing. Lady Adelheid always loses her head at the least little thing.

If a rain-drop falls upon her nose, she screams, 'What fearful weather

it is!' Unfortunately the noise penetrated to the old aunts, and they,

in the midst of unseasonable floods of tears, put in an appearance

armed with an entire arsenal of strengthening drops, elixirs of life,

and the deuce knows what. A sharp fainting-fit"---- The old gentleman

checked himself; doubtless he observed the struggle that was going on

within me. He took a few turns through the room; then again planting

himself in front of me, he had a good hearty laugh and said, "Cousin,

cousin, what nonsensical folly have you now got in your head? Ah well!

I suppose it can't be helped; the devil is to play his pretty games

here in divers sorts of ways. You have tumbled very nicely into his

clutches, and now he's making you dance to a sweet tune," He again took

a few turns up and down, and again went on, "It's no use to think of

sleep now; and it occurred to me that we might have a pipe, and so

spend the few hours that are left of the darkness and the night." With

these words he took a clay pipe from the cupboard, and proceeded to

fill it slowly and carefully, humming a song to himself; then he

rummaged about amongst a heap of papers, until he found a sheet,

which he picked out and rolled into a spill and lighted. Blowing the

tobacco-smoke from him in thick clouds, he said, speaking between his

teeth, "Well, cousin, what was that story about the wolf?"

I know not how it was, but this calm, quiet behaviour of the old

gentleman operated strangely upon me. I seemed to be no longer in

R--sitten, and the Baroness was so far, far distant from me that I

could only reach her on the wings of thought. The old gentleman's last

question, however, annoyed me. "But do you find my hunting exploit so

amusing?" I broke in,--"so well fitted for banter?" "By no means," he

rejoined, "by no means, cousin mine; but you've no idea what a comical

face such a whipper-snapper as you cuts, and how ludicrously he acts as

well, when Providence for once in a while honours him by putting him in

the way to meet with something out of the usual run of things. I once

had a college friend who was a quiet, sober fellow, and always on good

terms with himself. By accident he became entangled in an affair of

honour,--I say by accident, because he himself was never in any way

aggressive; and although most of the fellows looked upon him as a poor

thing, as a poltroon, he yet showed so much firm and resolute courage

in this affair as greatly to excite everybody's admiration. But from

that time onwards he was also completely changed. The sober and

industrious youth became a bragging, insufferable bully. He was always

drinking and rioting, and fighting about all sorts of childish trifles,

until he was run through in a duel by the Senior[7] of an exclusive

corps. I merely tell you the story, cousin; you are at liberty to think

what you please about it But to return to the Baroness and her

illness"---- At this moment light footsteps were heard in the hall; I

fancied, too, there was an unearthly moaning in the air. "She is dead!"

the thought shot through me like a fatal flash of lightning. The old

gentleman quickly rose to his feet and called out, "Francis, Francis!"

"Yes, my good Herr Justitiarius," he replied from without. "Francis,"

went on my uncle, "rake the fire together a bit in the grate, and if

you can manage it, you had better make us a good cup or two of tea."

"It is devilish cold," and he turned to me, "and I think we had better

go and sit round the fire and talk a little." He opened the door, and I

followed him mechanically. "How are things going on below?" he asked.

"Oh!" replied Francis; "there was not much the matter. The Lady

Baroness is all right again, and ascribes her bit of a fainting-fit to

a bad dream." I was going to break out into an extravagant

manifestation of joy and gladness, but a stern glance from my uncle

kept me quiet "And yet, after all, I think it would be better if we lay

down for an hour or two. You need not mind about the tea, Francis." "As

you think well, Herr Justitiarius," replied Francis, and he left the

room with the wish that we might have a good night's rest, albeit the

cocks were already crowing. "See here, cousin," said the old gentleman,

knocking the ashes out of his pipe on the grate, "I think, cousin, that

it's a very good thing no harm has happened to you either from wolves

or from loaded rifles." I now saw things in the right light, and was

ashamed at myself to have thus given the old gentleman good grounds for

treating me like a spoiled child.

Next morning he said to me, "Be so good as to step down, good cousin,

and inquire how the Baroness is. You need only ask for Lady Adelheid;

she will supply you with a full budget, I have no doubt" You may

imagine how eagerly I hastened downstairs. But just as I was about to

give a gentle knock at the door of the Baroness's anteroom, the Baron

came hurriedly out of the same. He stood still in astonishment, and

scrutinised me with a gloomy searching look. "What do you want here?"

burst from his lips. Notwithstanding that my heart beat, I controlled

myself and replied in a firm tone, "To inquire on my uncle's behalf how

my lady, the Baroness, is?" "Oh! it was nothing--one of her usual

nervous attacks. She is now having a quiet sleep, and will, I am sure,

make her appearance at the dinner-table quite well and cheerful. Tell

him that--tell him that." This the Baron said with a certain degree of

passionate vehemence, which seemed to me to imply that he was more

concerned about the Baroness than he was willing to show. I turned to

go back to my uncle, when the Baron suddenly seized my arm and said,

whilst his eyes flashed fire, "I have a word or two to say to you,

young man." Here I saw the deeply injured husband before me, and feared

there would be a scene which would perhaps end ignominiously for me. I

was unarmed; but at that moment I remembered I had in my pocket the

ingeniously-made hunting-knife which my uncle had presented to me after

we got to R--sitten. I now followed the Baron, who led the way rapidly,

with the determination not even to spare his life if I ran any risk of

being treated dishonourably.

We entered the Baron's own room, the door of which he locked behind

him. Now he began to pace restlessly backwards and forwards, with his

arms folded one over the other; then he stopped in front of me and

repeated, "I have a word or two to say to you, young man." I had wound

myself up to a pitch of most daring courage, and I replied, raising my

voice, "I hope they will be words which I may hear without resentment."

He stared hard at me in astonishment, as though he had failed to

understand me. Then, fixing his eyes gloomily upon the floor, he threw

his arms behind his back, and again began to stride up and down the

room. He took down a rifle and put the ramrod down the barrel to see

whether it were loaded or not. My blood boiled in my veins; grasping my

knife, I stepped close up to him, so as to make it impossible for him

to take aim at me. "That's a handsome weapon," he said, replacing the

rifle in the corner. I retired a few paces, the Baron following me.

Slapping me on the shoulder, perhaps a little more violently than was

necessary, he said, "I daresay I seem to you, Theodore, to be excited

and irritable; and I really am so, owing to the anxieties of a

sleepless night. My wife's nervous attack was not in the least

dangerous; that I now see plainly. But here--here in this castle, which

is haunted by an evil spirit, I always dread something terrible

happening; and then it's the first time she has been ill here. And

you--you alone were to blame for it." "How that can possibly be I have

not the slightest conception," I replied calmly. "I wish," continued

the Baron, "I wish that damned piece of mischief, my steward's wife's

instrument, were chopped up into a thousand pieces, and that you--but

no, no; it was to be so, it was inevitably to be so, and I alone am to

blame for all. I ought to have told you, the moment you began to play

music in my wife's room, of the whole state of the case, and to have

informed you of my wife's temper of mind." I was about to speak; "Let

me go on," said the Baron, "I must prevent your forming any rash

judgment. You probably regard me as an uncultivated fellow, averse to

the arts; but I am not so by any means. There is a particular

consideration, however, based upon deep conviction, which constrains me

to forbid the introduction here as far as possible of such music as can

powerfully affect any person's mind, and to this I of course am no

exception. Know that my wife suffers from a morbid excitability, which

will finally destroy all the happiness of her life. Within these

strange walls she is never quit of that strained over-excited

condition, which at other times occurs but temporarily, and then

generally as the forerunner of a serious illness. You will ask me, and

quite reasonably too, why I do not spare my delicate wife the necessity

of coming to live in this weird castle, and mix amongst the wild

confusion of a hunting-party. Well, call it weakness--be it so; in a

word, I cannot bring myself to leave her behind. I should be tortured

by a thousand fears, and quite incapable of any serious business,

for I am perfectly sure that I should be haunted everywhere, in the

justice-hall as well as in the forest, by the most horrid ideas of all

kinds of fatal mischief happening to her. And, on the other hand, I

believe that the sort of life led here cannot fail to operate upon the

weakly woman like strengthening chalybeate waters. By my soul, the

sea-breezes, sweeping keenly after their peculiar fashion through the

fir-trees, and the deep baying of the hounds, and the merry ringing

notes of our hunting-horns _must_ get the better of all your sickly

languishing sentimentalisings at the piano, which no man ought play in

_that way_. I tell you, you are deliberately torturing my wife to

death." These words he uttered with great emphasis, whilst his eyes

flashed with a restless fire. The blood mounted to my head; I made a

violent gesture against the Baron with my hand; I was about to speak,

but he cut me short "I know what you are going to say," he began, "I

know what you are going to say, and I repeat that you are going the

right road to kill my wife. But that you intended this I cannot of

course for a moment maintain; and yet you will understand that I must

put a stop to the thing. In short, by your playing and singing you work

her up to a high pitch of excitement, and then, when she drifts without

anchor and rudder on the boundless sea of dreams and visions and vague

aspirations which your music, like some vile charm, has summoned into

existence, you plunge her down into the depths of horror with a tale

about a fearful apparition which you say came and played pranks with

you up in the justice-hall. Your great-uncle has told me everything;

but, pray, repeat to me all you saw, or did not see, heard, felt,

divined by instinct."

I braced myself up and narrated calmly how everything had happened from

beginning to end, the Baron merely interposing at intervals a few words

expressive of his astonishment. When I came to the part where my old

uncle had met the ghost with trustful courage and had exorcised him

with a few powerful words, the Baron clasped his hands, raised them

folded towards Heaven, and said with deep emotion, "Yes, he is the

guardian-angel of the family. His mortal remains shall rest in the

vault of my ancestors." When I finished my narration, the Baron

murmured to himself, "Daniel, Daniel, what are you doing here at this

hour?" as he folded his arms and strode up and down the room. "And was

that all, Herr Baron?" I asked, making a movement as though I would

retire. Starting up as if out of a dream, the Baron took me kindly by

the hand and said, "Yes, my good friend, my wife, whom you have dealt

so hardly by without intending it--you must cure her again; you alone

can do so." I felt I was blushing, and had I stood opposite a mirror

should undoubtedly have seen in it a very blank and absurd face. The

Baron seemed to exult in my embarrassment; he kept his eyes fixed

intently upon my face, smiling with perfectly galling irony. "How in

the world can I cure her?" I managed to stammer out at length with an

effort "Well," he said, interrupting me, "you have no dangerous patient

to deal with at any rate. I now make an express claim upon your skill.

Since the Baroness has been drawn into the enchanted circle of your

music, it would be both foolish and cruel to drag her out of it all of

a sudden. Go on with your music therefore. You will always be welcome

during the evening hours in my wife's apartments. But gradually select

a more energetic kind of music, and effect a clever alternation of the

cheerful sort with the serious; and above all things, repeat your story

of the fearful ghost very very often. The Baroness will grow familiar

with it; she will forget that a ghost haunts this castle; and the story

will have no stronger effect upon her than any other tale of

enchantment which is put before her in a romance or a ghost-story book.

Pray, do this, my good friend." With these words the Baron left me. I

went away. I felt as if I were annihilated, to be thus humiliated to

the level of a foolish and insignificant child. Fool that I was to

suppose that jealousy was stirring his heart! He himself sends me to

Seraphina; he sees in me only the blind instrument which, after he has

made use of it, he can throw away if he thinks well. A few minutes

previously I had really feared the Baron; deep down within my heart

lurked the consciousness of guilt; but it was a consciousness which

allowed me to feel distinctly the beauty of the higher life for which I

was ripe. Now all had disappeared in the blackness of night; and I saw

only the stupid boy who in childish obstinacy had persisted in taking

the paper crown which he had put on his hot temples for a real golden

one. I hurried away to my uncle, who was waiting for me. "Well, cousin,

why have you been so long? Where have you been staying?" he cried as

soon as he saw me. "I have been having some words with the Baron!" I

quickly replied, carelessly and in a low voice, without being able to

look at the old gentleman. "God damn it all," said he, feigning

astonishment "Good gracious, boy! that's just what I thought. I suppose

the Baron has challenged you, cousin?" The ringing peal of laughter

which the old gentleman immediately afterwards broke out into taught me

that this time too, as always, he had seen me through and through. I

bit my lip, and durst not speak a word, for I knew very well that it

would only be the signal for the old gentleman to overwhelm me beneath

the torrent of teasing which was already hovering on the tip of his

tongue.

The Baroness appeared at the dinner-table in an elegant morning-robe,

the dazzling whiteness of which exceeded that of fresh-fallen snow. She

looked worn and low-spirited; but she began to speak in her soft and

melodious accents, and on raising her dark eyes there shone a sweet and

yearning look full of aspiration in their voluptuous glow, and a

fugitive blush flitted across her lily-white cheeks. She was more

beautiful than ever. But who can fathom the follies of a young man who

has got too hot blood in his head and heart? The bitter pique which the

Baron had stirred up within me I transferred to the Baroness. The

entire business seemed to me like a foul mystification; and I would now

show that I was possessed of alarmingly good common-sense and also of

extraordinary sagacity. Like a petulant child, I shunned the Baroness

and escaped Adelheid when she pursued me, and found a place where I

wished, right at the bottom end of the table between the two officers,

with whom I began to carouse right merrily. We kept our glasses going

gaily during dessert, and I was, as so frequently is the case in moods

like mine, extremely noisy and loud in my joviality. A servant brought

me a plate with some bonbons on it, with the words, "From Lady

Adelheid." I took them; and observed on one of them, scribbled in

pencil, "and Seraphina." My blood coursed tumultuously in my veins. I

sent a glance in Adelheid's direction, which she met with a most sly

and archly cunning look; and taking her glass in her hand, she gave me

a slight nod. Almost mechanically I murmured to myself, "Seraphina!"

then taking up my glass in my turn, I drained it at a single draught.

My glance fell across in _her_ direction; I perceived that she also had

drunk at the very same moment and was setting down her glass. Our eyes

met, and a malignant demon whispered in my ear, "Unhappy wretch, she

does love you!" One of the guests now rose, and, in conformity with the

custom of the North, proposed the health of the lady of the house. Our

glasses rang in the midst of a tumult of joy. My heart was torn with

rapture and despair; the wine burned like fire within me; everything

spun round in circles; I felt as if I must hasten and throw myself at

her feet and there sigh out my life. "What's the matter with you, my

friend?" asked my neighbour, thus recalling me to myself; but Seraphina

had left the hall. We rose from the table. I was making for the door,

but Adelheid held me fast, and began to talk about divers matters; I

neither heard nor understood a single word. She grasped both my hands

and, laughing, shouted something in my ear. I remained dumb and

motionless, as though affected by catalepsy. All I remember is that I

finally took a glass of liqueur out of Adelheid's hand in a mechanical

way and drank it off, and then I recollect being alone in a window, and

after that I rushed out of the hall, down the stairs, and ran out into

the wood. The snow was falling in thick flakes; the fir-trees were

moaning as they waved to and fro in the wind. Like a maniac I ran round

and round in wide circles, laughing and screaming loudly, "Look, look

and see. Aha! Aha! The devil is having a fine dance with the boy who

thought he would taste of strictly forbidden fruit!" Who can tell what

would have been the end of my mad prank if I had not heard my name

called loudly from the outside of the wood? The storm had abated; the

moon shone out brightly through the broken clouds; I heard dogs

barking, and perceived a dark figure approaching me. It was the old man

Francis. "Why, why, my good Herr Theodore," he began, "you have quite

lost your way in the rough snow-storm. The Herr Justitiarius is

awaiting you with much impatience." I followed the old man in silence.

I found my great-uncle working in the justice-hall. "You have done

well," he cried, on seeing me, "you have done a very wise thing to go

out in the open air a little and get cool. But don't drink quite so

much wine; you are far too young, and it's not good for you." I did not

utter a word in reply, and also took my place at the table in silence.

"But now tell me, good cousin, what it was the Baron really wanted you

for?" I told him all, and concluded by stating that I would not lend

myself for the doubtful cure which the Baron had proposed. "And

it would not be practicable," the old gentleman interrupted, "for

to-morrow morning early we set off home, cousin." And so it was that I

never saw Seraphina again.

As soon as we arrived in K---- my old uncle complained that he felt

the effects of the wearying journey this time more than ever. His

moody silence, broken only by violent outbreaks of the worst possible

ill-humour, announced the return of his attacks of gout. One day I was

suddenly called in; I found the old gentleman confined to his bed and

unable to speak, suffering from a paralytic stroke. He held a letter in

his hand, which he had crumpled up tightly in a spasmodic fit. I

recognised the hand-writing of the land-steward of R--sitten; but,

quite upset by my trouble, I did not venture to take the letter out of

the old gentleman's hand. I did not doubt that his end was near. But

his pulse began to beat again, even before the physician arrived; the

old gentleman's remarkably tough constitution resisted the mortal

attack, although he was in his seventieth year. That selfsame day the

doctor pronounced him out of danger.

We had a more severe winter than usual; this was followed by a rough

and stormy spring; and hence it was more the gout--a consequence of the

inclemency of the season--than his previous accident which kept him for

a long time confined to his bed. During this period he made up his mind

to retire altogether from all kinds of business. He transferred his

office of Justitiarius to others; and so I was cut off from all hope of

ever again going to R--sitten. The old gentleman would allow no one to

attend him but me; and it was to me alone that he looked for all

amusement and every cheerful diversion. And though, in the hours when

he was free from pain, his good spirits returned, and he had no lack of

broad jests, even making mention of hunting exploits, so that I fully

expected every minute to hear him make a butt of my heroic deed, when I

had killed the wolf with my whinger, yet never once did he allude to

our visit to R--sitten, and as may well be imagined, I was very

careful, from natural shyness, not to lead him directly up to the

subject. My harassing anxiety and continual attendance upon the old

gentleman had thrust Seraphina's image into the background. But as soon

as his sickness abated somewhat, my thoughts returned with more

liveliness to that moment in the Baroness's room, which I now looked

upon as a star--a bright star--that had set, for me at least, for ever.

An occurrence which now happened, by making me shudder with an ice-cold

thrill as at sight of a visitant from the world of spirits, revived

all the pain I had formerly felt. One evening, as I was opening the

pocket-book which I had carried whilst at R--sitten, there fell out of

the papers I was unfolding a dark curl, wrapped about with a white

ribbon; I immediately recognised it as Seraphina's hair. But, on

examining the ribbon more closely, I distinctly perceived the mark of a

spot of blood on it! Perhaps Adelheid had skilfully contrived to

secrete it about me during the moments of conscious insanity by which I

had been affected during the last days of our visit; but why was the

spot of blood there? It excited forebodings of something terrible in my

mind, and almost converted this too pastoral love-token into an awful

admonition, pointing to a passion which might entail the expenditure of

precious blood. It was the same white ribbon that had fluttered about

me in light wanton sportiveness as it were the first time I sat near

Seraphina, and which Mysterious Night had stamped as an emblem of

mortal injury. Boys ought not to play with weapons with the dangerous

properties of which they are not familiar.

At last the storms of spring had ceased to bluster, and summer asserted

her rights; and if the cold had formerly been unbearable, so now too

was the heat when July came in. The old gentleman visibly gathered

strength, and following his usual custom, went out to a garden in the

suburbs. One still, warm evening, as we sat in the sweet-smelling

jasmine arbour, he was in unusually good spirits, and not, as was

generally the case, overflowing with sarcasm and irony, but in a gentle

and almost soft and melting mood. "Cousin," he began, "I don't know how

it is, but I feel so nice and warm and comfortable all over to-day; I

have not felt like it for many years. I believe it is an augury that I

shall die soon." I exerted myself to drive these gloomy thoughts from

his mind. "Never mind, cousin," he said, "in any case I'm not long for

this world; and so I will now discharge a debt I owe you. Do you still

remember our autumn in R--sitten?" This question thrilled through me

like a lightning-flash, so before I was able to make any reply he

continued, "It was Heaven's will that your entrance into that castle

should be signalised by memorable circumstances, and that you should

become involved against your own will in the deepest secrets of the

house. The time has now come when you must learn all. We have often

enough talked about things which you, cousin, rather dimly guessed at

than really understood. In the alternation of the seasons nature

represents symbolically the cycle of human life. That is a trite

remark; but I interpret it differently from everybody else. The dews of

spring fall, summer's vapours fade away, and it is the pure atmosphere

of autumn which clearly reveals the distant landscape, and then finally

earthly existence is swallowed in the night of winter. I mean that the

government of the Power Inscrutable is more plainly revealed in the

clear-sightedness of old age. It is granted glimpses of the promised

land, the pilgrimage to which begins with the death on earth. How

clearly do I see at this moment the dark destiny of that house, to

which I am knit by firmer ties than blood relationship can weave!

Everything lies disclosed to the eyes of my spirit. And yet the things

which I now see, in the form in which I see them--the essential

substance of them, that is--this I cannot tell you in words; for no

man's tongue is able to do so. But listen, my son, I will tell you

as well as I am able, and do you think it is some remarkable story

that might really happen; and lay up carefully in your soul the

knowledge that the mysterious relations into which you ventured to

enter, not perhaps without being summoned, might have ended in your

destruction--but--that's all over now."

The history of the R---- entail, which my old uncle told me, I retain

so faithfully in my memory even now that I can almost repeat it in his

own words (he spoke of himself in the third person).

One stormy night in the autumn of 1760 the servants of R--sitten were

startled out of the midst of their sleep by a terrific crash, as if the

whole of the spacious castle had tumbled into a thousand pieces. In a

moment everybody was on his legs; lights were lit; the house-steward,

his face deadly pale with fright and terror, came up panting with his

keys; but as they proceeded through the passages and halls and rooms,

suite after suite, and found all safe, and heard in the appalling

silence nothing except the creaking rattle of the locks, which

occasioned some difficulty in opening, and the ghost-like echo of their

own footsteps, they began one and all to be utterly astounded. Nowhere

was there the least trace of damage. The old house-steward was

impressed by an ominous feeling of apprehension. He went up into the

great Knight's Hall, which had a small cabinet adjoining where Freiherr

Roderick von R---- used to sleep when engaged in making his

astronomical observations. Between the door of this cabinet and

that of a second was a postern, leading through a narrow passage

immediately into the astronomical tower. But directly Daniel (that was

the house-steward's name) opened this postern, the storm, blustering

and howling terrifically, drove a heap of rubbish and broken pieces of

stones all over him, which made him recoil in terror; and, dropping

the candles, which went out with a hiss on the floor, he screamed, "O

God! O God! The Baron! he's miserably dashed to pieces!" At the same

moment he heard sounds of lamentation proceeding from the Freiherr's

sleeping-cabinet, and on entering it he saw the servants gathered

around their master's corpse. They had found him fully dressed and more

magnificently than on any previous occasion, and with a calm earnest

look upon his unchanged countenance, sitting in his large and richly

decorated arm-chair as though resting after severe study. But his rest

was the rest of death. When day dawned it was seen that the crowning

turret of the tower had fallen in. The huge square stones had broken

through the ceiling and floor of the observatory-room, and then,

carrying down in front of them a powerful beam that ran across the

tower, they had dashed in with redoubled impetus the lower vaulted

roof, and dragged down a portion of the castle walls and of the narrow

connecting-passage. Not a single step could be taken beyond the postern

threshold without risk of falling at least eighty feet into a deep

chasm.

The old Freiherr had foreseen the very hour of his death, and had sent

intelligence of it to his sons. Hence it happened that the very next

day saw the arrival of Wolfgang, Freiherr von R----, eldest son of the

deceased, and now lord of the entail. Relying confidently upon the

probable truth of the old man's foreboding, he had left Vienna, which

city he chanced to have reached in his travels, immediately he received

the ominous letter, and hastened to R--sitten as fast as he could

travel. The house-steward had draped the great hall in black, and had

had the old Freiherr laid out in the clothes in which he had been

found, on a magnificent state-bed, and this he had surrounded with tall

silver candlesticks with burning wax-candles. Wolfgang ascended the

stairs, entered the hall, and approached close to his father's corpse,

without speaking a word. There he stood with his arms folded on his

chest, gazing with a fixed and gloomy look and with knitted brows, into

his father's pale countenance. He was like a statue; not a tear came

from his eyes. At length, with an almost convulsive movement of the

right arm towards the corpse, he murmured hoarsely, "Did the stars

compel you to make the son whom you loved miserable?" Throwing his

hands behind his back and stepping a short pace backwards, the Baron

raised his eyes upwards and said in a low and well-nigh broken voice,

"Poor, infatuated old man! Your carnival farce with its shallow

delusions is now over. Now you no doubt see that the possessions which

are so niggardly dealt out to us here on earth have nothing in common

with Hereafter beyond the stars. What will--what power can reach over

beyond the grave?" The Baron was silent again for some seconds, then he

cried passionately, "No, your perversity shall not rob me of a grain of

my earthly happiness, which you strove so hard to destroy," and

therewith he took a folded paper out of his pocket and held it up

between two fingers to one of the burning candles that stood close

beside the corpse. The paper was caught by the flame and blazed up

high; and as the reflection flickered and played upon the face of the

corpse, it was as though its muscles moved and as though the old man

uttered toneless words, so that the servants who stood some distance

off were filled with great horror and awe. The Baron calmly finished

what he was doing by carefully stamping out with his foot the last

fragment of paper that fell on the floor blazing. Then, casting yet

another moody glance upon his father, he hurriedly left the hall.

On the following day Daniel reported to the Freiherr the damage that

had been done to the tower, and described at great length all that had

taken place on the night when their dear dead master died; and he

concluded by saying that it would be a very wise thing to have the

tower repaired at once, for, if a further fall were to take place,

there would be some danger of the whole castle--well, if not tumbling

down, at any rate suffering serious damage.

"Repair the tower?" the Freiherr interrupted the old servant curtly,

whilst his eyes flashed with anger, "Repair the tower? Never, never!

Don't you see, old man," he went on more calmly, "don't you see that

the tower could not fall in this way without some special cause? How if

it was my father's own wish that the place where he carried on his

unhallowed astrological labours should be destroyed--how if he had

himself made certain preparations by which he was enabled to bring down

the turret whenever he pleased and so occasion the ruin of the interior

of the tower! But be that as it may. And if the whole castle tumbles

down, I shan't care; I shall be glad. Do you imagine I am going to

dwell in this weird owls' nest? No; my wise ancestor who had the

foundations of a new castle laid in the beautiful valley yonder--he has

begun a work which I intend to finish." Daniel said crestfallen, "Then

will all your faithful old servants have to take up their bundles and

go?" "That I am not going to be waited upon by helpless, weak-kneed old

fellows like you is quite certain; but for all that I shall turn none

away. You may all enjoy the bread of charity without working for it."

"And am I," cried the old man, greatly hurt, "am I, the house-steward,

to be forced to lead such a life of inactivity?" Then the Freiherr, who

had turned his back upon the old man and was about to leave the room,

wheeled suddenly round, his face perfectly ablaze with passion, strode

up to the old man as he stretched out his doubled fist towards him, and

shouted in a thundering voice, "You, you hypocritical old villain, it's

you who helped my old father in his unearthly practices up yonder; you

lay upon his heart like a vampire; and perhaps it was you who basely

took advantage of the old man's mad folly to plant in his mind those

diabolical ideas which brought me to the brink of ruin. I ought, I tell

you, to kick you out like a mangy cur." The old man was so terrified at

these harsh terrible words that he threw himself upon his knees beside

the Freiherr; but the Baron, as he spoke these last words, threw

forward his right foot, perhaps quite unintentionally (as is frequently

the case in anger, when the body mechanically obeys the mind, and what

is in the thought is imitatively realised in action) and hit the old

man so hard on the chest that he rolled over with a stifled scream.

Rising painfully to his feet and uttering a most singular sound, like

the howling whimper of an animal wounded to death, he looked the

Freiherr through and through with a look that glared with mingled rage

and despair. The purse of money which the Freiherr threw down as he

went out of the room, the old man left lying on the floor where it

fell.

Meanwhile all the nearest relatives of the family who lived in the

neighbourhood had arrived, and the old Freiherr was interred with much

pomp in the family vault in the church at R--sitten; and now, after the

invited guests had departed, the new lord of the entail appeared to

shake off his gloomy mood, and to be prepared to duly enjoy the

property that had fallen to him. Along with V----, the old Freiherr's

Justitiarius, who won his full confidence in the very first interview

they had, and who was at once confirmed in his office, the Baron made

an exact calculation of his sources of income, and considered how large

a part he could devote to making improvements and how large a part to

building a new castle. V---- was of opinion that the old Freiherr could

not possibly have spent all his income every year, and that there must

certainly be money concealed somewhere, since he had found nothing

amongst his papers except one or two bank-notes for insignificant

sums, and the ready-money in the iron safe was but very little more

than a thousand thalers, or about L150. Who would be so likely to

know anything about it as Daniel, who in his obstinate self-willed way

was perhaps only waiting to be asked about it? The Baron was now

not a little concerned at the thought that Daniel, whom he had so

grossly insulted, might let large sums moulder somewhere sooner

than discover them to him, not so much, of course, from any motives of

self-interest,--for of what use could even the largest sum of money be

to him, a childless old man, whose only wish was to end his days in the

castle of R--sitten?--as from a desire to take vengeance for the

affront put upon him. He gave V---- a circumstantial account of the

entire scene with Daniel, and concluded by saying that from several

items of information communicated to him he had learned that it was

Daniel alone who had contrived to nourish in the old Freiherr's mind

such an inexplicable aversion to ever seeing his sons in R--sitten. The

Justitiarius declared that this information was perfectly false, since

there was not a human creature on the face of the earth who would have

been able to guide the Freiherr's thoughts in any way, far less

determine them for him; and he undertook finally to draw from Daniel

the secret, if he had one, as to the place in which they would be

likely to find money concealed. His task proved far easier than he had

anticipated, for no sooner did he begin, "But how comes it, Daniel,

that your old master has left so little ready-money?" than Daniel

replied, with a repulsive smile, "Do you mean the few trifling

thalers, Herr Justitiarius, which you found in the little strong box?

Oh! the rest is lying in the vault beside our gracious master's

sleeping-cabinet. But the best," he went on to say, whilst his

smile passed over into an abominable grin, and his eyes flashed

with malicious fire, "but the best of all--several thousand gold

pieces--lies buried at the bottom of the chasm beneath the ruins." The

Justitiarius at once summoned the Freiherr; they proceeded there, and

then into the sleeping-cabinet, where Daniel pushed aside the wainscot

in one of the corners, and a small lock became visible. Whilst the

Freiherr was regarding the polished lock with covetous eyes, and making

preparations to try and unlock it with the keys of the great bunch

which he dragged with some difficulty out of his pocket, Daniel drew

himself up to his full height, and looked down with almost malignant

pride upon his master, who had now stooped down in order to see the

lock better. Daniel's face was deadly pale, and he said, his voice

trembling, "If I am a dog, my lord Freiherr, I have also at least a

dog's fidelity." Therewith he held out a bright steel key to his

master, who greedily snatched it out of his hand, and with it he

easily succeeded in opening the door. They stepped into a small and

low-vaulted apartment, in which stood a large iron coffer with the

lid open, containing many money-bags, upon which lay a strip of

parchment, written in the old Freiherr's familiar handwriting, large

and old-fashioned.

One hundred and fifty thousand Imperial thalers in old _Fredericks

d'or_,[8] money saved from the revenues of the estate-tail of

R--sitten; this sum has been set aside for the building of the

castle. Further, the lord of the entail who succeeds me in the

possession of this money shall, upon the highest hill situated

eastward from the old tower of the castle (which he will find in

ruins), erect a high beacon tower for the benefit of mariners, and

cause a fire to be kindled on it every night. R--sitten, on

Michaelmas Eve of the year 1760.

RODERICK, FREIHERR von R.

The Freiherr lifted up the bags one after the other and let them fall

again into the coffer, delighted at the ringing clink of so much gold

coin; then he turned round abruptly to the old house-steward, thanked

him for the fidelity he had shown, and assured him that they were only

vile tattling calumnies which had induced him to treat him so harshly

in the first instance. He should not only remain in the castle, but

should also continue to discharge his duties, uncurtailed in any way,

as house-steward, and at double the wages he was then having. "I owe

you a large compensation; if you will take money, help yourself to one

of these bags." As he concluded with these words, the Baron stood

before the old man, with his eyes bent upon the ground, and pointed to

the coffer; then, approaching it again, he once more ran his eyes over

the bags. A burning flush suddenly mounted into the old house-steward's

cheeks, and he uttered that awful howling whimper--a noise as of an

animal wounded to death, according to the Freiherr's previous

description of it to the Justitiarius. The latter shuddered, for the

words which the old man murmured between his teeth sounded like, "Blood

for gold." Of all this the Freiherr, absorbed in the contemplation of

the treasure before him, had heard not the least. Daniel tottered in

every limb, as if shaken by an ague fit; approaching the Freiherr with

bowed head in a humble attitude, he kissed his hand, and drawing his

handkerchief across his eyes under the pretence of wiping away his

tears, said in a whining voice, "Alas! my good and gracious master,

what am I, a poor childless old man, to do with money? But the doubled

wages I accept with gladness, and will continue to do my duty

faithfully and zealously."

The Freiherr, who had paid no particular heed to the old man's words,

now let the heavy lid of the coffer fall to with a bang, so that the

whole room shook and cracked, and then, locking the coffer and

carefully withdrawing the key, he said carelessly, "Very well, very

well, old man." But after they entered the hall he went on talking to

Daniel, "But you said something about a quantity of gold pieces buried

underneath the ruins of the tower?" Silently the old man stepped

towards the postern, and after some difficulty unlocked it. But so soon

as he threw it open the storm drove a thick mass of snow-flakes into

the hall; a raven was disturbed and flew in croaking and screaming and

dashed with its black wings against the window, but regaining the open

postern it disappeared downwards into the chasm. The Freiherr stepped

out into the corridor; but one single glance downwards, and he started

back trembling. "A fearful sight!--I'm giddy!" he stammered as he sank

almost fainting into the Justitiarius' arms. But quickly recovering

himself by an effort, he fixed a sharp look upon the old man and asked,

"Down there, you say?" Meanwhile the old man had been locking the

postern, and was now leaning against it with all his bodily strength,

and was gasping and grunting to get the great key out of the rusty

lock. This at last accomplished, he turned round to the Baron,

and, changing the huge key about backwards and forwards in his

hands, replied with a peculiar smile, "Yes, there are thousands

and thousands down there--all my dear dead master's beautiful

instruments--telescopes, quadrants, globes, dark mirrors, they all lie

smashed to atoms underneath the ruins between the stones and the big

balk." "But money--coined money," interrupted the Baron, "you spoke of

gold pieces, old man?" "I only meant things which had cost several

thousand gold pieces," he replied; and not another word could be got

out of him.

The Baron appeared highly delighted to have all at once come into

possession of all the means requisite for carrying out his favourite

plan, namely, that of building a new and magnificent castle. The

Justitiarius indeed stated it as his opinion that, according to the

will of the deceased, the money could only be applied to the repair and

complete finishing of the interior of the old castle, and further, any

new erection would hardly succeed in equalling the commanding size and

the severe and simple character of the old ancestral castle. The

Freiherr, however, persisted in his intention, and maintained that in

the disposal of property respecting which nothing was stated in the

deeds of the entail the irregular will of the deceased could have no

validity. He at the same time led V---- to understand that he should

conceive it to be his duty to embellish R--sitten as far as the

climate, soil, and environs would permit, for it was his intention to

bring home shortly as his dearly loved wife a lady who was in every

respect worthy of the greatest sacrifices.

The air of mystery with which the Freiherr spoke of this alliance,

which possibly had been already consummated in secret, cut short all

further questions from the side of the Justitiarius. Nevertheless he

found in it to some extent a redeeming feature, for the Freiherr's

eager grasping after riches now appeared to be due not so much to

avarice strictly speaking as to the desire to make one dear to him

forget the more beautiful country she was relinquishing for his sake.

Otherwise he could not acquit the Baron of being avaricious, or at any

rate insufferably close-fisted, seeing that, even though rolling in

money and even when gloating over the old _Fredericks d'or_, he could

not help bursting out with the peevish grumble, "I know the old rascal

has concealed from us the greatest part of his wealth, but next spring

I will have the ruins of the tower turned over under my own eyes."

The Freiherr had architects come, and discussed with them at great

length what would be the most convenient way to proceed with his

castle-building. He rejected one drawing after another; in none of them

was the style of architecture sufficiently rich and grandiose. He now

began to draw plans himself, and, inspirited by this employment, which

constantly placed before his eyes a sunny picture of the happiest

future, brought himself into such a genial humour that it often

bordered on wild exuberance of spirits, and even communicated itself to

all about him. His generosity and profuse hospitality belied all

imputations of avarice at any rate. Daniel also seemed to have now

forgotten the insult that had been put upon him. Towards the Freiherr,

although often followed by him with mistrustful eyes on account of the

treasure buried in the chasm, his bearing was both quiet and humble.

But what struck everybody as extraordinary was that the old man

appeared to grow younger from day to day. Possibly this might be,

because he had begun to forget his grief for his old master, which had

stricken him sore, and possibly also because he had not now, as he once

had, to spend the cold nights in the tower without sleep, and got

better food and good wine such as he liked; but whatever the cause

might be, the old greybeard seemed to be growing into a vigorous man

with red cheeks and well-nourished body, who could walk firmly and

laugh loudly whenever he heard a jest to laugh at.

The pleasant tenor of life at R--sitten was disturbed by the arrival of

a man whom one would have judged to be quite in his element there. This

was Wolfgang's younger brother Hubert, at the sight of whom Wolfgang

had screamed out, with his face as pale as a corpse's, "Unhappy wretch,

what do you want here?" Hubert threw himself into his brother's arms,

but Wolfgang took him and led him away up to a retired room, where he

locked himself in with him. They remained closeted several hours, at

the end of which time Hubert came down, greatly agitated, and called

for his horses. The Justitiarius intercepted him; Hubert tried to pass

him; but V----, inspired by the hope that he might perhaps stifle in

the bud what might else end in a bitter life-long quarrel between the

brothers, besought him to stay, at least a few hours, and at the same

moment the Freiherr came down calling, "Stay here, Hubert! you will

think better of it." Hubert's countenance cleared up; he assumed an air

of composure, and quickly pulling off his costly fur coat, and throwing

it to a servant behind him, he grasped V----'s hand and went with him

into the room, saying with a scornful smile, "So the lord of the entail

will tolerate my presence here, it seems." V---- thought that the

unfortunate misunderstanding would assuredly be smoothed away now, for

it was only separation and existence apart from each other that would,

he conceived, be able to foster it. Hubert took up the steel tongs

which stood near the fire-grate, and as he proceeded to break up a

knotty piece of wood that would only sweal, not burn, and to rake the

fire together better, he said to V----, "You see what a good-natured

fellow I am, Herr Justitiarius, and that I am skilful in all domestic

matters. But Wolfgang is full of the most extraordinary prejudices,

and--a bit of a miser." V---- did not deem it advisable to attempt to

fathom further the relations between the brothers, especially as

Wolfgang's face and conduct and voice plainly showed that he was shaken

to the very depths of his nature by diverse violent passions.

Late in the evening V---- had occasion to go up to the Freiherr's room

in order to learn his decision about some matter or other connected

with the estate-tail. He found him pacing up and down the room with

long strides, his arms crossed on his back, and much perturbation in

his manner. On perceiving the Justitiarius he stood still, and then,

taking him by both hands and looking him gloomily in the face, he said

in a broken voice, "My brother is come. I know what you are going to

say," he proceeded almost before V---- had opened his mouth to put a

question. "Unfortunately you know nothing. You don't know that my

unfortunate brother--yes, I will not call him anything worse than

unfortunate--that, like a spirit of evil, he crosses my path

everywhere, ruining my peace of mind. It is not his fault that I have

not been made unspeakably miserable; he did his best to make me so, but

Heaven willed it otherwise. Ever since he has known of the conversion

of the property into an entail, he has persecuted me with deadly

hatred. He envies me this property, which in his hands would only be

scattered like chaff. He is the wildest spendthrift I ever heard of.

His load of debt exceeds by a long way the half of the unentailed

property in Courland that fell to him, and now, pursued by his

creditors, who fail not to worry him for payment, he hurries here to me

to beg for money." "And you, his brother, refuse to give him any?"

V---- was about to interrupt him; but the Freiherr, letting V----'s

hands fall, and taking a long step backwards, went on in a loud and

vehement tone. "Stop! yes; I refuse. I neither can nor will give away a

single thaler of the revenues of the entail. But listen, and I will

tell you what was the proposal which I made the insane fellow a few

hours ago, and made in vain, and then pass judgment upon the feelings

of duty by which I am actuated. Our unentailed possessions in Courland

are, as you are aware, considerable; the half that falls to me I am

willing to renounce, but in favour of his family. For Hubert has

married, in Courland, a beautiful lady, but poor. She and the children

she has borne him are starving. The estates should be put under trust;

sufficient should be set aside out of the revenues to support him, and

his creditors be paid by arrangement. But what does he care for a quiet

life--a life free of anxiety?--what does he care for wife and child?

Money, ready-money, and large quantities, is what he will have, that he

may squander it in infamous folly. Some demon has made him acquainted

with the secret of the hundred and fifty thousand thalers, half of

which he in his mad way demands, maintaining that this money is movable

property and quite apart from the entailed portion. This, however, I

must and will refuse him, but the feeling haunts me that he is plotting

my destruction in his heart."

No matter how great the efforts which V---- made to persuade the

Freiherr out of this suspicion against his brother, in which, of

course, not being initiated into the more circumstantial details of the

disagreement, he could only appeal to broad and somewhat superficial

moral principles, he yet could not boast of the smallest success. The

Freiherr commissioned him to treat with his hostile and avaricious

brother Hubert. V---- proceeded to do so with all the circumspection he

was master of, and was not a little gratified when Hubert at length

declared, "Be it so then; I will accept my brother's proposals, but

upon condition that he will now, since I am on the point of losing both

my honour and my good name for ever through the severity of my

creditors, make me an advance of a thousand _Fredericks d'or_ in hard

cash, and further grant that in time to come I may take up my

residence, at least for a short time occasionally, in our beautiful

R--sitten, along with my good brother." "Never, never!" exclaimed

the Freiherr violently, when V---- laid his brother's amended

counter-proposals before him. "I will never consent that Hubert stay

in my house even a single minute after I have brought home my wife. Go,

my good friend, tell this mar-peace that he shall have two thousand

_Fredericks d'or_, not as an advance, but as a gift--only, bid him go,

bid him go." V---- now learned at one and the same time that the ground

of the quarrel between the two brothers must be sought for in this

marriage. Hubert listened to the Justitiarius proudly and calmly, and

when he finished speaking replied in a hoarse and hollow tone, "I will

think it over; but for the present I shall stay a few days in the

castle." V---- exerted himself to prove to the discontented Hubert that

the Freiherr, by making over his share of their unentailed property,

was really doing all he possibly could do to indemnify him, and that on

the whole he had no cause for complaint against his brother, although

at the same time he admitted that all institutions of the nature

of primogeniture, which vested such preponderant advantages in the

eldest-born to the prejudice of the remaining children, were in many

respects hateful. Hubert tore his waistcoat open from top to bottom

like a man whose breast was cramped and he wanted to relieve it by

fresh air. Thrusting one hand into his open shirt-frill and planting

the other in his side, he spun round on one foot in a quick pirouette

and cried in a sharp voice, "Pshaw! What is hateful is born of hatred."

Then bursting out into a shrill fit of laughter, he said, "What

condescension my lord of the entail shows in being thus willing to

throw his gold pieces to the poor beggar!" V---- saw plainly that all

idea of a complete reconciliation between the brothers was quite out of

the question.

To the Freiherr's annoyance, Hubert established himself in the rooms

that had been appointed for him in one of the side wings of the castle

as if with the view to a very long stay. He was observed to hold

frequent and long conversations with the house-steward; nay, the latter

was sometimes even seen to accompany him when he went out wolf-hunting.

Otherwise he was very little seen, and studiously avoided meeting his

brother alone, at which the latter was very glad. V---- felt how

strained and unpleasant this state of things was, and was obliged to

confess to himself that the peculiar uneasiness which marked all that

Hubert both said and did was such as to destroy intentionally and

effectually all the pleasure of the place. He now perfectly understood

why the Freiherr had manifested so much alarm on seeing his brother.

One day as V---- was sitting by himself in the justice-room amongst his

law-papers, Hubert came in with a grave and more composed manner than

usual, and said in a voice that bordered upon melancholy, "I will

accept my brother's last proposals. If you will contrive that I have

the two thousand _Fredericks d'or_ today, I will leave the castle this

very night--on horseback--alone." "With the money?" asked V----. "You

are right," replied Hubert; "I know what you would say--the weight!

Give it me in bills on Isaac Lazarus of K----. For to K---- I am going

this very night. Something is driving me away from this place. The old

fellow has bewitched it with evil spirits." "Do you mean your father,

Herr Baron?" asked V---- sternly. Hubert's lips trembled; he had to

cling to the chair to keep from falling; but then suddenly recovering

himself, he cried, "To-day then, please, Herr Justitiarius," and

staggered to the door, not, however, without some exertion. "He now

sees that no deceptions are any longer of avail, that he can do nothing

against my firm will," said the Freiherr whilst drawing up the bills on

Isaac Lazarus in K----. A burden was lifted off his heart by the

departure of his inimical brother; and for a long time he had not been

in such cheerful spirits as he was at supper. Hubert had sent his

excuses; and there was not one who regretted his absence.

The room which V---- occupied was somewhat retired, and its windows

looked upon the castle-yard. In the night he was suddenly startled up

out of his sleep, and was under the impression that he had been

awakened by a distant and pitiable moan. But listen as he would, all

remained still as the grave, and so he was obliged to conclude that the

sound which had fallen upon his ears was the delusion of a dream. But

at the same time he was seized with such a peculiar feeling of

breathless anxiety and terror that he could not stay in bed. He got up

and approached the window. It was not long, however, before the castle

door was opened, and a figure with a blazing torch came out of the

castle and went across the court-yard. V---- recognised the figure as

that of old Daniel, and saw him open the stable-door and go in, and

soon afterwards bring out a saddle horse. Now a second figure came into

view out of the darkness, well wrapped in furs, and with a fox-skin cap

on his head. V---- perceived that it was Hubert; but after he had

spoken excitedly with Daniel for some minutes, he returned into the

castle. Daniel led back the horse into the stable and locked the

door, and also that of the castle, after he had returned across the

court-yard in the same way in which he crossed it before. It was

evident Hubert had intended to go away on horseback, but had suddenly

changed his mind; and no less evident was it that there was a dangerous

understanding of some sort between Hubert and the old house-steward.

V---- looked forward to the morning with burning impatience; he would

acquaint the Freiherr with the occurrences of the night. Really it was

now time to take precautionary measures against the attacks of Hubert's

malice, which V---- was now convinced, had been betrayed in his

agitated behaviour of the day before.

Next morning, at the hour when the Freiherr was in the habit of rising,

V---- heard people running backwards and forwards, doors opened and

slammed to, and a tumultuous confusion of voices talking and shouting.

On going out of his room he met servants everywhere, who, without

heeding him, ran past him with ghastly pale faces, upstairs,

downstairs, in and out the rooms. At length he ascertained that the

Freiherr was missing, and that they had been looking for him for hours

in vain. As he had gone to bed in the presence of his personal

attendant, he must have afterwards got up and gone away somewhere in

his dressing-gown and slippers, taking the large candlestick with him,

for these articles were also missed. V----, his mind agitated with dark

forebodings, ran up to the ill-fated hall, the cabinet adjoining which

Wolfgang had chosen, like his father, for his own bedroom. The postern

leading to the tower stood wide open, with a cry of horror V----

shouted, "There--he lies dashed to pieces at the bottom of the ravine."

And it was so. There had been a fall of snow, so that all they could

distinctly make out from above was the rigid arm of the unfortunate man

protruding from between the stones. Many hours passed before the

workmen succeeded, at great risk of life, in descending by means of

ladders bound together, and drawing up the corpse by the aid of ropes.

In the last agonies of death the Baron had kept a tight hold upon the

silver candlestick; the hand in which it was clenched was the only

uninjured part of his whole body, which had been shattered in the most

hideous way by rebounding on the sharp stones.

Just as the corpse was drawn up and carried into the hall, and laid

upon the very same spot on the large table where a few weeks before old

Roderick had lain dead, Hubert burst in, his face distorted by the

frenzy of despair. Quite overpowered by the fearful sight he wailed,

"Brother! O my poor brother! No; this I never prayed for from the

demons who had entered into me." This suspicious self-exculpation made

V---- tremble; he felt impelled to proceed against Hubert as the

murderer of his brother. Hubert, however, had fallen on the floor

senseless; they carried him to bed; but on taking strong restoratives

he soon recovered. Then he appeared in V----'s room, pale and

sorrow-stricken, and with his eyes half clouded with grief; and unable

to stand owing to his weakness, he slowly sank down into an easy-chair,

saying, "I have wished for my brother's death, because my father had

made over to him the best part of the property through the foolish

conversion of it into an entail. He has now found a fearful death. I am

now lord of the estate-tail, but my heart is rent with pain--I can--I

shall never be happy. I confirm you in your office; you shall be

invested with the most extensive powers in respect to the management of

the estate, upon which I cannot bear to live." Hubert left the room,

and in two or three hours was on his way to K----.

It appeared that the unfortunate Wolfgang had got up in the night,

probably with the intention of going into the other cabinet where there

was a library. In the stupor of sleep he had mistaken the door, and had

opened the postern, taken a step out, and plunged headlong down. But

after all had been said, there was nevertheless a good deal that was

strained and unlikely in this explanation. If the Baron was unable to

sleep and wanted to get a book out of the library, this of itself

excluded all idea of sleep-stupor; but this condition alone could

account for any mistaking of the postern for the door of the cabinet.

Then again, the former was fast locked, and required a good deal of

exertion to unlock it. These improbabilities V---- accordingly put

before the domestics, who had gathered round him, and at length the

Freiherr's body-servant, Francis by name, said, "Nay, nay, my good Herr

Justitiarius; it couldn't have happened in that way." "Well, how then?"

asked V---- abruptly and sharply. But Francis, a faithful, honest

fellow, who would have followed his master into his grave, was

unwilling to speak out before the rest; he stipulated that what he had

to say about the event should be confided to the Justitiarius alone in

private. V---- now learned that the Freiherr used often to talk to

Francis about the vast treasure which he believed lay buried beneath

the ruins of the tower, and also that frequently at night, as if goaded

by some malicious fiend, he would open the postern, the key of which

Daniel had been obliged to give him, and would gaze with longing eyes

down into the chasm where the supposed riches lay. There was now no

doubt about it; on that ill-omened night the Freiherr, after his

servant had left him, must have taken one of his usual walks to the

postern, where he had been most likely suddenly seized with dizziness,

and had fallen over. Daniel, who also seemed much upset by the

Freiherr's terrible end, thought it would be a good thing to have the

dangerous postern walled up; and this was at once done.

Freiherr Hubert von R----, who had then succeeded to the entail, went

back to Courland without once showing himself at R--sitten again.

V---- was invested with full powers for the absolute management of the

property. The building of the new castle was not proceeded with; but

on the other hand the old structure was put in as good a state of

repair as possible. Several years passed before Hubert came again to

R--sitten, late in the autumn, but after he had remained shut up in his

room with V---- for several days, he went back to Courland. Passing on

his way through K----, he deposited his will with the government

authorities there.

The Freiherr, whose character appeared to have undergone a complete

revolution, spoke more than once during his stay at R--sitten of

presentiments of his approaching death. And these apprehensions were

really not unfounded, for he died in the very next year. His son,

named, like the deceased Baron, Hubert, soon came over from Courland to

take possession of the rich inheritance; and was followed by his mother

and his sister. The youth seemed to unite in his own person all the bad

qualities of his ancestors: he proved himself to be proud, arrogant,

impetuous, avaricious, in the very first moments after his arrival at

R--sitten. He wanted to have several things which did not suit his

notions of what was right and proper altered there and then: the cook

he kicked out of doors; and he attempted to thrash the coachman, in

which, however, he did not succeed, for the big brawny fellow had the

impudence not to submit to it. In fact, he was on the high road to

assuming the _role_ of a harsh and severe lord of the entail, when

V---- interposed in his firm earnest manner, declaring most explicitly

that not a single chair should be moved, that not even a cat should

leave the house if she liked to stay in it, until after the will had

been opened. "You have the presumption to tell me, the lord of the

entail," began the Baron. V----, however, cut short the young man, who

was foaming with rage, and said, whilst he measured him with a keen

searching glance, "Don't be in too great a hurry, Herr Baron. At all

events, you have no right to exercise authority here until after the

opening of your father's will. It is I--I alone--who am now master

here; and I shall know how to meet violence with violent measures.

Please to recollect that by virtue of my powers as executor of your

father's will, as well as by virtue of the arrangements which have been

made by the court, I am empowered to forbid your remaining in R--sitten

if I think fit to do so; and so, if you wish to spare me this

disagreeable step, I would advise you to go away quietly to K----." The

lawyer's earnestness, and the resolute tone in which he spoke, lent the

proper emphasis to his words. Hence the young Baron, who was charging

with far two sharp-pointed horns, felt the weakness of his weapons

against the firm bulwark, and found it convenient to cover the shame of

his retreat with a burst of scornful laughter.