ORDEAL AND EXECUTION.
As he spoke one of the strangest looking men I ever beheld, entered the
chapel at the door through which Carmilla had made her entrance and her
exit. He was tall, narrow-chested, stooping, with high shoulders, and
dressed in black. His face was brown and dried in with deep furrows; he
wore an oddly-shaped hat with a broad leaf. His hair, long and grizzled,
hung on his shoulders. He wore a pair of gold spectacles, and walked
slowly, with an odd shambling gait, with his face sometimes turned up to
the sky, and sometimes bowed down toward the ground, seemed to wear a
perpetual smile; his long thin arms were swinging, and his lank hands,
in old black gloves ever so much too wide for them, waving and
gesticulating in utter abstraction.
"The very man!" exclaimed the General, advancing with manifest delight.
"My dear Baron, how happy I am to see you, I had no hope of meeting you
so soon." He signed to my father, who had by this time returned, and
leading the fantastic old gentleman, whom he called the Baron to meet
him. He introduced him formally, and they at once entered into earnest
conversation. The stranger took a roll of paper from his pocket, and
spread it on the worn surface of a tomb that stood by. He had a pencil
case in his fingers, with which he traced imaginary lines from point to
point on the paper, which from their often glancing from it, together,
at certain points of the building, I concluded to be a plan of the
chapel. He accompanied, what I may term, his lecture, with occasional
readings from a dirty little book, whose yellow leaves were closely
written over.
They sauntered together down the side aisle, opposite to the spot where
I was standing, conversing as they went; then they begun measuring
distances by paces, and finally they all stood together, facing a piece
of the side-wall, which they began to examine with great minuteness;
pulling off the ivy that clung over it, and rapping the plaster with
the ends of their sticks, scraping here, and knocking there. At length
they ascertained the existence of a broad marble tablet, with letters
carved in relief upon it.
With the assistance of the woodman, who soon returned, a monumental
inscription, and carved escutcheon, were disclosed. They proved to be
those of the long lost monument of Mircalla, Countess Karnstein.
The old General, though not I fear given to the praying mood, raised his
hands and eyes to heaven, in mute thanksgiving for some moments.
"To-morrow," I heard him say; "the commissioner will be here, and the
Inquisition will be held according to law."
Then turning to the old man with the gold spectacles, whom I have
described, he shook him warmly by both hands and said:
"Baron, how can I thank you? How can we all thank you? You will have
delivered this region from a plague that has scourged its inhabitants
for more than a century. The horrible enemy, thank God, is at last
tracked."
My father led the stranger aside, and the General followed. I knew that
he had led them out of hearing, that he might relate my case, and I saw
them glance often quickly at me, as the discussion proceeded.
My father came to me, kissed me again and again, and leading me from the
chapel, said:
"It is time to return, but before we go home, we must add to our party
the good priest, who lives but a little way from this; and persuade him
to accompany us to the schloss."
In this quest we were successful: and I was glad, being unspeakably
fatigued when we reached home. But my satisfaction was changed to
dismay, on discovering that there were no tidings of Carmilla. Of the
scene that had occurred in the ruined chapel, no explanation was offered
to me, and it was clear that it was a secret which my father for the
present determined to keep from me.
The sinister absence of Carmilla made the remembrance of the scene more
horrible to me. The arrangements for that night were singular. Two
servants, and Madame were to sit up in my room that night; and the
ecclesiastic with my father kept watch in the adjoining dressing-room.
The priest had performed certain solemn rites that night, the purport of
which I did not understand any more than I comprehended the reason of
this extraordinary precaution taken for my safety during sleep.
I saw all clearly a few days later.
The disappearance of Carmilla was followed by the discontinuance of my
nightly sufferings.
You have heard, no doubt, of the appalling superstition that prevails in
Upper and Lower Styria, in Moravia, Silisia, in Turkish Servia, in
Poland, even in Russia; the superstition, so we must call it, of the
Vampire.
If human testimony, taken with every care and solemnity, judicially,
before commissions innumerable, each consisting of many members, all
chosen for integrity and intelligence, and constituting reports more
voluminous perhaps than exist upon any one other class of cases, is
worth anything, it is difficult to deny, or even to doubt the existence
of such a phenomenon as the Vampire.
For my part I have heard no theory by which to explain what I myself
have witnessed and experienced, other than that supplied by the ancient
and well-attested belief of the country.
The next day the formal proceedings took place in the Chapel of
Karnstein. The grave of the Countess Mircalla was opened; and the
General and my father recognised each his perfidious and beautiful
guest, in the face now disclosed to view. The features, though a hundred
and fifty years had passed since her funeral, were tinted with the
warmth of life. Her eyes were open; no cadaverous smell exhaled from
the coffin. The two medical men, one officially present, the other on
the part of the promoter of the inquiry, attested the marvellous fact,
that there was a faint but appreciable respiration, and a corresponding
action of the heart. The limbs were perfectly flexible, the flesh
elastic; and the leaden coffin floated with blood, in which to a depth
of seven inches, the body lay immersed. Here then, were all the admitted
signs and proofs of vampirism. The body, therefore, in accordance with
the ancient practice, was raised, and a sharp stake driven through the
heart of the vampire, who uttered a piercing shriek at the moment, in
all respects such as might escape from a living person in the last
agony. Then the head was struck off, and a torrent of blood flowed from
the severed neck. The body and head were next placed on a pile of wood,
and reduced to ashes, which were thrown upon the river and borne away,
and that territory has never since been plagued by the visits of a
vampire.
My father has a copy of the report of the Imperial Commission, with the
signatures of all who were present at these proceedings, attached in
verification of the statement. It is from this official paper that I
have summarized my account of this last shocking scene.