# Hoffmann's Strange Stories/Chapter 4

THE WALLED-UP DOOR.
On the solitary banks of a northern lake, is still seen the ruins of an old manor house which bears the name of R—sitten. Arid heaths surround it on all sides. The horizon is shut in one side by water, calm, deep, and with a leaden color; on the other rises a wood of pine trees, which stretch out their black arms in the haze like spectres. The sky always in mourning, only opens to funereal birds. But at a quarter of a league from this mournful landscape, the aspect changes: a gay village appears suddenly in the flowery meadows. At the end of the village a wood of alders is growing greenly, not far from which is shown the first foundations of a castle that one of the lords of R—sitten proposed to erect in this oasis of natural planting and growth; but the heirs of this lord have forgotten this edifice already commenced, and the baron Roderick of R——, although he was resigned to sharing with the screech-owls the patrimonial castle, had in nowise busied himself about finishing the new castle projected by his ancestors. He had satisfied himself with repairing the most dilapidated parts of the old castle, to shut himself up in it as well as he could, with a handful of followers as taciturn and uncommunicative as their master. He killed time by riding here and there, on the borders of the lake; and very rarely showed himself at the village amongst his vassals, where his name alone served as a bugbear to the children. In one of the highest towers, Roderick had placed an observatory, ​furnished with all the astronomical instruments known at that time. It was there that he often passed days and nights, in company with an old steward who partook of all his singularities. There was attributed to him in the country round about, very extended acquaintance with the science of magic, and some went so far as to say that he had been driven from Courland for having had open relations with the evil spirit.
Roderick had a superstitious love for the lordly ruins of his family; he had the idea of entailing this property, in order to give it its feudal importance. But neither Hubert, the son of this Roderick, nor the actual inheritor, who bore the same name as his grandfather Roderick, would follow the example of their parent; and, instead of residing with him in the ruins of R—sitten, they had established themselves in their domain in Courland, where life was easier and not so gloomy. The baron Roderick took care of two sisters of his father, wrecks of nobility, to whom he extended his hospitality. These two ladies had to serve them only an aged female servant; all three of whom occupied a wing of the castle. The kitchen occupied the basement: a kind of dilapidated pigeon house served as habitation to an infirm hunter who filled the office of guard. The remainder of the servants lived in the village with the steward.
Every year, towards the last days of autumn, the castle quitted the lugubrious silence which weighed upon it like a cold shroud. The packs of dogs shook its old walls with their long barkings, and the friends of baron Roderick joyously celebrated the hunting parties of their host, who gave them an opportunity of capturing a large quantity of wolves and wild boars. These celebrations lasted for six weeks, during which the castle resembled a hotel open to every comer. For the rest, the baron Roderick never neglected his paramount duties. He administered justice to the vassals, aided in this part of his attributes by lawyer V——.
His family had exercised, from father to son, and from time almost immemorial, the jurisdiction of R—sitten. In the ​year 179–, the worthy advocate, whose silvered head counted more than sixty winters, said to me one day with a good natured smile on his face:
"Cousin," (I was his grand nephew, but he always called me cousin, on account of the similarity of our baptismal names,) "cousin, I have a desire to take thee to R—sitten. The north wind, the cold breezes from the water and the first frosts will give to thy organs a little of that vigor which would make thy health firmer. Thou wilt render me, there, more than one service in copying law papers, which accumulate every year more and more; and thou wilt learn, for thy personal gratification, the trade of a free huntsman."
God knows how joyous the proposition of my uncle made me! On the morrow we were rolling in a good coach, warmly equipped with ample furs, through a country which became at every step wilder, as we advanced towards the north, through great quantities of snow and interminable forests of pine. On the road, my great uncle related to me anecdotes of the life of baron Roderick, (the owner of the castle.) He told me with picturesque illustrations the habits and adventures of the old lord of R—sitten; and he complained at seeing that a taste for this savage life was forestalling all the thoughts of his actual successor, a young man, who until that time had shown himself to be good humored and in delicate health. For the rest, he recommended me to take my ease at the castle. He ended by describing the lodging that I should inhabit with him, which joined on one side the old audience hall of the lord of the castle, and on the other the habitation of the two ladies of whom I have already spoken. We arrived thus, in the middle of the night, on the territory of R—sitten.
There was a celebration at the village. The steward's house, illuminated from top to bottom, resounded to the music of dances, and the only tavern in the place was filled with gay guests. We soon found ourselves again on the road, already nearly impassable and covered with snow. The north ​wind made the waters of the lake moan and the branches of the pines crack with ominous sound; and in the midst of a kind of white sea was traced in black the profile of the manor, whose portcullis was down. A silence of death reigned in it; not a light escaped from its lattice-like loopholes.
"Hallo! Franz, Franz!" cried my great uncle, "Hallo! get up! The snow freezes in falling from the sky, and a fire even from hell would do us a great deal of good!"
A watch dog answered first to this appeal; then a little movement was heard; the reflection of a torch disturbed the shadows, keys turned heavily in the locks, and the old Franz saluted us with—
"Good morning, Master Justice; I give you a welcome this diabolical weather!"
Franz, accoutered with a livery in which his insignificant body moved about too much at ease, made one of the most comic faces on receiving us, as he was unbooted. A simple civility was impressed on his wrinkled features; but, in spite of all that, his ugliness was nearly compensated for, by the warmth of his welcome.
"My worthy sir," said Franz, "nothing is prepared to receive you; the chambers are frozen, and the beds are not furnished; and then, the wind blows from every quarter through the broken panes; you could not stay in them, even with fire!"
"How do you say, rascal," exclaimed my great uncle, shaking off the hoar frost from his furs, "how do you say, you the guardian of this barrack, and do you not watch over it and repair it when needful? So, my chamber is uninhabitable?"
"Very nearly," replied Franz, bowing to the ground, for I had just sneezed explosively. "The chamber of Mr. Justice is, at the present time, heaped with rubbish. Three days ago the ceiling of the audience hall fell with a violent shock."
My great uncle was about to swear like one possessed, but he restrained himself suddenly, and, turning towards me and tucking his ears under his foxskin cap:
​"Cousin," said he, "we will do as we can, and try, above all, not to risk another question on account of this accursed castle: otherwise it would be possible to tell us things a thousand times more discouraging; Now then," continued he, addressing himself to Franz, "can you not put in order another room for us?"
"Your desires, sir, have been anticipated," replied the old servant, quickly: and, walking before us to point out the way, he conducted us by a little narrow stairway into a long gallery, where the light of a single torch lent to the least objects fantastic forms. At the end of this gallery, which turned about in various directions, forming multiplied angles, he led us through several damp and unfurnished rooms; then opening a door, he introduced us into a chamber where there was an ample fire crackling on the hearth. This joyous sight put me in a good humor; but my great uncle stopped in the middle of the room, and, throwing around him a look agitated with some inquietude, said in a solemn and moving tone,
"Is this, then, the place that is to serve hereafter for receptions?"
Franz took several steps towards the other end of the room, and, by the light of the flambeau which he carried, I perceived on the wall a high and broad white spot which represented the dimensions of a walled-up door. In the meantime, Franz hastened to prepare all that was necessary for us. The table was diligently spread, and, after a comfortable supper, my great uncle set about brewing a bowl of punch, the contents of which was to procure for us with its last drops the reward of a long and peaceable slumber. When his service was no longer needed, Franz discreetly quitted us. Two wax candles and the expiring fire on the hearth, made the gothic ornaments of the room in which we were, dance about in a thousand capricious fashions. Paintings representing hunting and warlike scenes were suspended on the walls, and the vacillating fire seemed to cause the personages in these paintings to move. I remarked family portraits, the size of life, and which ​preserved, doubtlessly, the features of the most notable members of the feudal line of R—sitten. The old leather covered coffers, standing against the wainscotting, blackened by time, brought out with more character the white spot, the sight of which had first struck me. I supposed that it was simply on account of there having been formerly a communicating door, since walled up, without the workmen having taken care to hide the mason work with a coating of paint to correspond with the other decorations of the room. For the rest, my imagination was occupied much more with all kinds of dreams than with the least reality. I peopled the castle with supernatural apparitions, which I gradually became afraid of myself. Finally the chance or the occasion operated so, that I found in my pocket a book, from which the young people of that time were inseparable; it was the Visionary, by Schiller. This reading destroyed the activity of my imagination. I was plunged into a kind of half hallucination, produced by the scene which passed before my eyes, when light, but well timed footsteps, seemed to me to traverse the room. I listened: a dull groan is heard, stops, then re-commences; I think that I hear scratching behind the white spot which represents the walled-up door. There is no longer any doubt, it is some poor animal that has been shut in there. I go and strike my foot on the floor, and the noise will cease, or the captive animal will utter some cry. But, oh terror! the scratching is continued with a kind of savageness; but no other sign of life is given; my blood is already freezing in my veins; the most incoherent ideas assail me, and behold me nailed to my chair, without daring to make a movement, when at last, the mysterious claw ceases to scratch, and the footsteps commence again. I rise as if moved by a spring, I advance towards the end of the room, hardly lighted by an expiring torch; suddenly a current of cold air is felt on my cheeks, and at the same time the moon, piercing a cloud, lights up, with a trembling reflection, a full length portrait of a man with a very repulsive countenance; then voices, which have ​nothing of earth in them, murmur around me these words, resembling sobs:
"Go no farther, thou wilt fall into the abyss of the invisible world!"
Then the noise of a door which is violently shut, makes the apartment in which I am tremble; I hear distinctly some one running in the gallery; then the steps of a horse resound on the paving of the court; the portcullis is raised, and some one goes out, then re-enters almost immediately. Is all this reality, or is it nothing but a dream of my mind in its delirium? Whilst I am wrestling with my doubts, I hear my great uncle sighing in the neighboring chamber. Is he awake? I take my light and enter; he is struggling with the anguish of a cruel dream. I seize his hand, I awake him; he utters a stifled cry, but immediately recognizing me,
"Thanks, cousin," said he, "I had a bad dream on account of this lodging, and certain old things which I have seen take place in it. But, enough! it is better to go to sleep again, and not think longer about it."
With these words, he wrapped himself up in his covering, drew the sheet over his face, and appeared to go to sleep. But, when I had extinguished the fire and retired to my little bed, I heard the worthy great uncle say his prayers in a murmur, and mechanically I did the same.
On the morrow, at an early hour, we commenced our operations. Towards noon, my great uncle went with me to pay a visit to the ladies, to whom Franz was sent to announce us. After a long attendance, an old hump-backed female servant, dressed in a silk dress, dead leaf color, came to introduce us. The two ladies of the castle, dressed in the ancient style, looked to me like two puppets; they stared at me in such a manner, that I should have laughed in their faces, if my great uncle had not hastened to say, in his customary joyful manner, that I was a relation of his, a young law student, come to aid him at R—sitten. The faces of these two antique feminines lengthened in such a manner, as to prove that they had ​little confidence in the success of my first appearance. This whole visit nauseated me. Wholly under the impression of the incidents that had agitated me the night before, I was (one could not be more so) disposed to see witches under the finery with which these two ladies of R—sitten were spangled like church banners.
Then strange faces, their little eyes bordered with a bloody red, their pointed noses, and their nasal accents, could only legitimately belong to people from the other world.
The evening of this first day, as I was with my great uncle seated in our chamber, my feet on the fender, and my chin reclining on my breast,
"What the devil has bewitched thee since yesterday?" exclaimed the excellent counsellor. "Thou dost neither eat nor drink, and thou look'st like a grave digger."
I thought that it was my duty not to hide from my great uncle what caused my uneasiness. Whilst listening to me he became very serious.
"That is very strange," exclaimed he, "I saw in a dream all that thou hast just told me. I saw a hideous phantom enter the room, drag himself to the walled-up door, and scratch at that door with such fury, that its fingers were all torn and bleeding; then it descended, took a horse from the stable and put him back again immediately. It was at this time you awoke me, and that, come to myself, I surmounted the secret horror which always springs from the least communication with the invisible world."
I dared not question the old gentleman. He perceived it.
"Cousin," said he to me, "hast thou the courage to wait with me, with open eyes, the next visit of the phantom?"
I accepted resolutely this proposition.
"Very well, then, to-night," continued he; "I have confidence in the pious motive which leads me to wrestle with the evil genius of this castle. Whatever may be the result of my project, I wish that you may be present at all that may happen, in order to be able to bear witness to it. I hope, with God's aid, to ​break the charm which banishes from this domain the heirs of R—sitten. But, if I fail in my enterprise, I shall at least have sacrificed myself to the holiest of causes. As for thee, cousin, thou wilt be present, but no peril menaces thee. The evil spirit has no power over thee.
Franz served us, as the night before, with an excellent supper and a bowl of punch; then he returned. When we were alone, the full moon was shining with a most brilliant light; the north wind whistled through the forest trees, and every minute the glass creaked as it moved in the leaden sashes. My great uncle had placed his repeater on the table. It struck twelve. Then the door opened with a crash, and the steps that I had heard the night before commenced again to draw themselves along the floor. My great uncle turned pale, but he rose without faltering, and turned towards the direction from which the noise proceeded, the left arm leaning on his hip, and the right hand extended, in an heroic attitude. Sobs mingled with the noise of the steps, then was heard the forcible scratching against the walled-up door. Then my great uncle advanced towards it, and cried out in a loud voice:
"Daniel! Daniel! what doest thou here at this hour?"
A lamentable cry answered to these words, and was followed by the noise of a heavy fall. "Ask pardon, at the foot of God's throne," continued my great uncle, in a more and more animated tone of voice: "and if God does not pardon thee, go away from this castle, where there is no longer a place for thee!"
It seemed to me that a long groan lost itself outside amid the growling of the storm; my great-uncle came back slowly to his arm chair. He had an inspired look; his eyes sparkled like stars; he seated himself again before the fire, and his hands were joined, his eyes turned toward heaven; he appeared to pray.
After some moments of silence: "Well, cousin," said he to me, "what thinkest thou of all that?"
Seized with fear and respect, I kneeled before the old man, ​and covered his hands with tears. But he took me in his arms, pressed me closely to his heart and added,
"Let us go to rest now; calm is hereafter established near us."
In effect, nothing more troubled my dreams, and the following days I succeeded in making myself merry freely, and more than once, at the expense of the old baronesses, who in spite of their ridiculous appearance were none the less good creatures.
A short time after our installation, the baron Roderick himself arrived at the castle with his wife and equipages, for the hunting season. The invited guests hastened to the castle from every quarter, which took a festive appearance very different from that which it had during the remainder of the year. When the baron came to see us he appeared very much dissatisfied with the change of lodging that lawyer V—— had been obliged to submit to. On looking at the walled-up door, his look became gloomy, and he passed his hand over his forehead, as if to drive away a painful remembrance. He rudely scolded poor Franz for having chosen for us so dilapidated a domicil, and begged my great uncle to order whatever he wanted without stint, and to use every thing in the castle as if it were his own property. I remarked that the proceedings of the baron with the lawyer were not only very polite, but there was mixed with them a kind of filial respect, which might lead to the supposition that there existed between them more intimate relations than was manifested to the eyes of the world. As for myself, I was in no wise comprehended in the marks of cordiality. The baron affected towards me from day to day haughtier manners, and without the protecting intervention of my great uncle, our antipathy would have led to some bitter scene, or even to violence.
The wife of baron Roderick of R—sitten, had produced on me, at first sight, an impression that contributed not a little towards making me support with patience the rudeness ​of the master of the castle. Seraphine offered a delicious contrast by the side of her aged relatives, at whom I was tired of looking. Her beauty, enhanced by all the seductions of youth, had a stamp of surprising ideality. She appeared to me like an angel of light, more capable than all possible exorcisms to drive away forever all the evil spirits that haunted the castle. The first time that this adorable person addressed me, to ask how I amused myself in the mournful solitude of R—sitten, I was so struck with the charm of her voice and the celestial melancholy that dreamed in her eyes, that I could only answer her in monosyllables without connection, which must have made me appear to her eyes as the most timid or the most foolish of youths. The old aunts of the baroness, judging me of very little consequence, undertook to recommend me to the kindness of the young lady with looks so full of pride, that I could not refrain from paying them a few compliments that touched very nearly upon sarcasm. From that moment, in place of the pain that my position towards the baroness made me feel, I became aware that a burning passion animated my heart; and, however I might have been persuaded of the madness of such a sentiment, it was impossible for me to resist it; this became soon a kind of delirium, and during my long day dreams, I called to Seraphine with transports of despair. One fine night, my great uncle, suddenly awakened by my extravagant monologue, cried out to me from his bed,
"Cousin, cousin, are you losing your common sense? Be in love the whole day long, if that pleases thee; but there is a time for all things, and the night was made to sleep in!"
I trembled for fear that my uncle had heard the name of Seraphine escape from my lips, and that he would lecture me; but his conduct in this circumstance was filled with reserve and discretion; for the following day, as we were entering the hall, where every body had met for judicial trial, he said in a loud voice,
"May it please God that each one here knows how to watch over himself prudently!"
​Then as I was taking my place at the desk by his side, he leaned towards me to add,
"Cousin, try to write without trembling, in order that I may be able to decipher, without wearing my eyes, thy judicial scribbling."
The place of my great uncle at the table, was every day on the right of the beautiful baroness, and this favor made many jealous. I slid myself in here and there according to occurrences, among the other guests, who were composed frequently of officers of the neighboring garrison, with whom it was necessary to keep pace in drinking and talking. One day chance carried me near Seraphine, from whom I had been kept at a great distance. I had just offered my arm to her lady companion to go into the dining room: and when we turned around to salute each other, I noticed with a tremor that I was quite near the baroness. A sweet look welcomed me to my seat; and whilst the repast lasted, instead of eating, I did nothing but sustain a conversation with her lady companion, in which all that I found to say, tenderly and delicately, was addressed directly to the baroness, from whom I did not remove my eyes. After supper, Seraphine, in doing the honors of the hostess, approached towards me, and asked me graciously, as at first, if I amused myself at the castle. I answered as well as I could, that at first, this wild domain had offered me a pretty painful residence, but that, since the arrival of the baron, this sad aspect had changed very much, and that if I had a wish to express, it would be only that I might be excused from following the chase.
"But," said the baroness, "have I not heard that you were a musician, and that you composed verses? I love the art passionately, and I play pretty well on the harp; but that is a pleasure of which I must deprive myself here, for my husband detests music."
I hastened to reply, that the baroness could easily procure for herself, during the long hunts of her husband, the pleasure of making a little music. It must be impossible that there ​could not be found amongst the furniture of the castle some harpsichord. Miss Adelheid, the lady companion, in vain cried out and swore that, in the memory of man, nothing had been heard of at R—sitten, but the notes of the horn and the howling of packs. I was strong for succeeding in my project, when we saw Franz passing by.
"Truly," exclaimed Miss Adelheid, "he is the only man I know that is capable of giving good advice in the most embarrassing cases; and I defy you to make him pronounce the word impossible."
We called Franz. The good man, after turning his hat in his hands for some time, ended by remembering that the wife of the steward, who lived in the neighboring village, possessed a harpsichord, on which she formerly accompanied her singing with so pathetic an accent, that in listening to her every one wept, as if they had rubbed their eyes with onion peels.
"A harpsichord! we will have a harpsichord," exclaimed Miss Adelheid.
"Yes," said Franz, "but a little misfortune has happened to it; the organist of the village, having wished to try on it the air of a hymn of his own invention, dislocated the machine whilst playing."
"What a misfortune!" exclaimed the baroness and Adelheid, both at once.
"So that," continued Franz, "it has been necessary to carry the harpsichord to the neighboring city, to have it repaired."
"But has it been brought back?" interrupted Miss Adelheid, quickly.
"I do not doubt it, my gracious young lady," replied Franz, "and the steward's wife would be very much honored, very much pleased——"
At this moment the baron appeared, stopped before our group, and passed on, saying to his wife:—"Well, dear friend, old Franz is he still the man to give good advice?"
The baroness was speechless; Franz was immovable, his ​arms hanging down by his sides. The old aunts came and led off Seraphine. Miss Adelheid followed them. As for me, I remained for a long time in the same spot, thinking of the good fortune which had procured for me so sweet an interview, and cursing baron Roderick, who appeared to me nothing but a brutal tyrant, unworthy of possessing this admirable woman. I believe that I should be still standing, had it not been for my great uncle, who was seeking me, and touched me on the shoulder, saying, in his friendly manner,
"Cousin, don't show thyself so assiduous towards the baroness; leave this dangerous trade of sighing to be followed by madcaps who have nothing else to do."
I went into a long discourse to prove to my great uncle that I had allowed nothing to myself but what was admissable; but he shrugged his shoulders, went and put on his dressing gown, filled his pipe, and commenced talking about the hunt of the previous day.
That evening, there was a ball at the castle. Miss Adelheid had retained a whole orchestra of travelling musicians. My great uncle, very fond of his rest, had retired to his bed at his accustomed hour. My youth and my love made me worship this opportunity of an unexpected ball. I had finished my toilet, when Franz came and knocked at my door, to announce to me that the harpsichord had arrived on a sledge, and that the baroness had immediately ordered it to be placed in her room, where she was waiting for me with her lady companion. Judge of the joyful surprise which pervaded all my senses. I was drunk with love and desire; I hastened to Seraphine's room. Miss Adelheid was beside herself with joy; but the baroness, already dressed for the ball, was standing, in silence and in a melancholy attitude, near the case in which were reposing the notes that, in my quality of musician and poet, I was called to awaken.
"Theodore," said she to me, calling me by my baptismal name, according to the custom in the North, "Theodore, here is the instrument that we expected: God will that you keep your promise well."
​I approached towards it immediately; but hardly had I taken off the cover of the harpsichord, when several strings broke with violence; those which remained were of such bad quality that their sounds produced a discord sufficient to annoy the strongest ears.
"It is without doubt that the organist wishes to try again," exclaimed Miss Adelheid, with a joyous burst of laughter. But Seraphine was no longer disposed to be gay.
"Fatality!" said she in a low voice: "I can never have any pleasure here."
On examining the box of the harpsichord, I luckily found in it another sett of strings. "We are saved!" exclaimed I immediately. "Patience and courage aid me! the damage will soon be repaired." The baroness took hold and helped me with her pretty fingers, whilst Adelheid unrolled the strings, as I called them by the numbers on the key-board.
After twenty unsuccessful trials, our perseverance was crowned with a full success; harmony is established again, as if by enchantment. A little more labor, and the instrument is in tune! This zeal, this love of art that we had exercised in common, had made the distance that existed between us disappear. The beautiful baroness shared innocently with me the happiness of a success which promised to her pleasant distractions. The harpsichord had become a kind of electric bond between us; my timidity, my awkwardness disappeared; nothing remained but love, love which swallowed up my whole existence. I preluded on this dear instrument those tender symphonies, which paint with so much poetry the passions of the meridian countries. Seraphine, standing before me, listened to me with her whole soul; I saw her eyes sparkle, I breathed the shudderings which agitated her bosom; I felt her breath flying around me like the kiss of an angel, and my whole soul flew towards the skies! Suddenly her physiognomy appeared to become inflamed, her lips murmured, in cadence, sounds long since lost to her memory; a few escaped notes placed my fingers, without study or effort, on a known ​melody, and the voice of Seraphine broke out like a crystal bell.
It was a luxury of divine poetry; an ocean of harmony, in which my heart was lost in crying to God to call us to himself. When I came out of this ecstacy—
"Thanks," said Seraphine, "thanks for this hour which I owe you, and which I shall never forget."
With these words she held out her hand towards me; I fell on my knees to kiss it. It seemed to that me under my lips her nerves had trembled. Meanwhile the ball called us, the baroness had disappeared. I do not know how I found myself again in my great uncle's room; but that evening he said to me in a severe tone, that he was not ignorant of my interview with the baroness.
"But take care," added he, "take care, cousin, thou art running on thin ice which hides an abyss without bottom. May the devil take music, if it is only to serve to make thee commit folly, by troubling the peace of a young and romantic woman. Take care of thyself; none are so near death as a sick man who thinks that he is well."
"But my uncle," said I, with the intention of justifying myself, "do you think me capable of seeking to take the heart of the baroness by surprise?"
"Monkey that thou art," exclaimed my great uncle, stamping with his foot: "if I believed it for a minute, I would throw you out of the window!"
The arrival of the baron cut short this conversation, and for a long time the labor of justice did not leave me leisure to return to Seraphine. Meanwhile our intimacy was gradually renewed. Miss Adelheid was often charged with a secret message to me from her mistress, and we occupied the frequent absence of the baron in meetings around the harpsichord. The presence of the lady companion, whose character was trifling enough, prevented us from the least wandering towards sentiment. But I recognized, by certain signs, that Seraphine carried in her heart a fund of sadness that was slowly ​undermining her life. One day she did not appear at dinner. The guests hastened to enquire of the baron if the sufferings of his wife caused him any serious uneasiness.
"Oh, in no wise!" answered the baron. "The piercing air of this country, joined to a cold which might be produced by an abuse of music, has caused this passing illness."
Whilst saying this, the baron threw a side glance towards me, which signified much. Adelheid understood enough of it to cause her to blush. She did not raise her eyes, but for me her looks appeared to say, that for the future, it would be necessary to make use of some precaution, in order not to excite the jealousy of the baron, from whom we might expect some evil design. A great anxiety took possession of my mind; I did not know what course to take; the threatening look that the baron sullenly took, irritated me so much the more, for the reason that I had nothing to reproach myself with; but I feared to expose Seraphine to undergo his anger.
Ought I to quit the castle?—But to renounce the society of Seraphine, seemed to me a sacrifice beyond my strength. I learned that the whole company were going to the hunt after dinner. I announced to my great uncle my intention of joining them.
"Very good," said the old man to me; "that is an exercise proper for thee, and I immediately bequeath to thee my carbine and hunting knife."
We started; we were placed at a short distance from each other in the neighboring forest, to surround the wolves. The snow fell very fast, and when the day was declining, there came a fog that hid all objects at six paces distance. The cold overcame me; and I sought for shelter in a hedge, and, after leaning my gun against a pine tree, I commenced dreaming of Seraphine.
Soon reports of guns followed each other from distance to distance: and, at ten feet from the place where I had taken shelter, an enormous wolf presented itself. I took aim at him, ​and fired; I missed him; he sprang upon me, but my presence of mind did not abandon me; I received the furious animal on the point of my hunting knife, and he plunged it into himself up to the hilt. One of the foresters ran towards me on hearing the noise of his howling; the huntsmen gathered around us, and the baron sprang towards me.
"You are wounded?" said he.
"No sir," answered I; "my hand was surer than my aim."
It would be difficult to tell all the encomiums that were lavished upon me for this exploit. The baron insisted upon my leaning on his arm, to return to the castle. A forester carried my gun. These attentions, granted to me by the lord of R—sitten, touched me deeply. I judged of him from that time quite differently. He seemed to me to be a man of energy and courage. But at the same time I thought of Seraphine; I felt that the distance between us was growing less. I conceived the boldest hopes. But when, in the evening, swelled with pride, I related my adventure to my great uncle, he laughed in my face, saying,
"God shows his power by the hands of the weak."
The hour of repose had long since sounded, when, passing along the gallery to go to my bed, I met a white figure, that carried a night lamp.
It was Adelheid:—"Good evening," said she, laughing; "beautiful wolf-hunter! why do you run thus without a light, all alone, like a real spectre?"
At this word spectre, I trembled from head to foot, and I recalled the two first nights of my stay at the castle. Adelheid perceived the sudden emotion that agitated me.
"Well!" exclaimed she, taking my hand, "what is the matter with you? you are cold as marble; come, let me give you life and health. The baroness is waiting for you, she is dying of impatience."
I allowed myself to be led away without resistance, but without joy; I was under the empire of a fatal pre-occupation. ​The baroness, on seeing us enter, took several steps towards me, uttering an exclamation which she did not finish, for she stopped suddenly, as if struck with an after-thought. I took her hand and kissed it; she did not withdraw it, but she said to me:
"Theodore, why did you go to the hunt? The hand that creates such sweet accords, is it made to handle arms and commit murder?"
The sound of this adorable voice penetrated to my very soul; a veil extended itself over my sight, and I do not know how it happened, that instead of going to my seat at the harpsichord, I found myself on the sofa, talking with Seraphine of my singular hunting adventure. When I had told her the conduct of her husband, which contrasted strongly with his accustomed stiffness, she interrupted me, saying in her most affectionate voice,
"Do you not see, Theodore, that you are not yet acquainted with the baron? it is only here that his character shows itself so hard. Every time he comes here, a fixed idea pursues him; it is that this castle is going to become the theatre of some terrible calamity to our family and to his peace. He is convinced that an invisible enemy exercises in this domain a power, which sooner or later will commit an immense crime. They relate strange things of the founder of this entail, and I know myself that the castle holds a family secret; it is a tradition frightfully true, that a phantom comes here often to assail the proprietor, and does not permit him to make in this enclosure but a very limited residence. Every time that I come here with my husband, I feel almost continual terror, and it is only to your art, dear Theodore, that I am indebted for a little consolation. So that I cannot manifest to you too much gratitude."
Encouraged by this exchange of confidence, I related to Seraphine my own apprehensions. But as I hid from her the most frightful details, I saw her face become mortally pale, and I understood that it was better to reveal all to her, ​than to leave her imagination to exalt itself beyond measure. When I began to speak of this mysterious claw which scratched the walled-up door,
"Yes, yes," exclaimed Seraphine, "it is in that wall that is shut up the fatal mystery."
And hiding her beautiful face in her hands, she fell into a profound meditation. It was only then that I observed that Adelheid had left us. I spoke no longer, and Seraphine was still silent. I made an effort to rise and go to the harpsichord. A few accords that I drew from it awoke the baroness from her inactivity; she listened quietly to an air as sad as our souls, her eyes filled with tears. I kneeled before her, she leaned towards me, and our lips united in a celestial kiss; then she disengaged herself from my embrace, arose, and, when she reached the door of the room, she turned round and said to me,
"Dear Theodore, your uncle is a worthy man, who seems to be the protector of this house; tell him, I pray you, to pray for us every day, in order that it may please God to preserve us from all evil."
At these words, the lady companion re-entered. I could not answer Seraphine; I was too much moved to speak to her without forgetting the restraint which was imposed upon us. The baroness held out her hand to me.
"Good by," said she, "good by, dear Theodore; I shall long remember this evening."
When I went back to my great uncle's room, I found him asleep. My eyes were filled with tears; the love that I had for Seraphine pressed upon my heart with a painful heaviness; my sobs soon became so hurried and strong that the justice awoke.
"Cousin," exclaimed he, "do you wish decidedly to become mad? Do me the kindness to go to bed immediately!"
This prosy apostrophe brought me back disagreeably to real life; but I had to obey. A few moments had hardly elapsed, when I heard coming and going, the doors opening and ​shutting, and then steps in the gallery. They came and knocked at the door of our chamber. "Who is there?" asked I, in a loud and rude voice.
"Mr. V——," was the answer from without, "quick, get up!" It was the voice of old Franz.
"Is the castle on fire?" said I to myself. At the word fire, my great uncle, who awoke, jumped out of bed, and went to open the door.
"For God's sake, make haste," replied Franz, "the baron is asking for you; the baroness is dying!"
The poor servant was lividly pale. We had hardly lighted a lamp, when the voice of the baron was heard.
"Can I speak to you immediately, my dear V——?" said he.
"Devil!" said my great uncle, "who asked thee to dress thyself; what art thou about to do?"
"See her once more; tell her that I love her, and then die!" answered I in a low and broken voice.
"Oh! undoubtedly, I ought to have guessed it," replied the severe justice, shutting the door in my face, and putting the key into his pocket. Delirious with anger, I tried to break the lock; but, promptly reflecting on the consequences which such a scene would occasion, I resigned myself to await patiently the return of my great uncle, fully decided, nevertheless, to escape from him at all events, as soon as he returned. I heard him speaking to the baron, in the distance, with great vivacity; but I could not distinguish their words. My name was mixed up with it, and my anxiety became intolerable. Finally the baron went away; it seemed to me that some one had come precipitately to seek him. My great uncle came back, and appeared stupified at the delirious state in which he found me. "She is dead, then!" cried I, on seeing him. "I will go down, I will see her immediately, and, if you refuse me, I will blow out my brains before your eyes! My great uncle remained unmoved, and covering me with an icy look,
​"Dost thou think, then," said he, "that thy life has the least value for me, if it pleases thee to stake it upon a miserable threat? What hast thou to do with the baron's wife! By what right wouldst thou go to place thyself in a funeral chamber, from which thy ridiculous conduct excludes thee more than ever?"
I fell crushed, annihilated, into a seat. My great uncle took pity on me.
"Now," continued he, "I wish you to know that the pretended illness of the baroness was nothing but a dream. Adelheid becomes distracted when there is a thunder-storm, and the old aunts, attracted by the noise, are fatiguing poor Seraphine with their care and their elixirs. It is nothing but a fainting fit, a nervous crisis, attributed by the baron to the effects of music. Now, then, since thou art, as I hope, sufficiently tranquillized, I am going, with thy permission, to smoke a good pipe; for all the gold in the world I would not shut my eyes again until daylight. Look thou, cousin," continued he, after a pause, and blowing out enormous clouds of smoke, "I advise thee not to take seriously the heroic figure that thou hast had put upon thee since thy adventure at the wolf-hunt. A poor little devil like thee is often exposed to many misunderstandings, when he has the vanity to quit his own sphere. I remember that at the time when I was attending the university, I had for a friend a young man of a character mild, peaceable, and always equal. A chance having thrown him into an affair of honor, he conducted himself with such vigor that everybody was astonished. Unfortunately this success and the admiration with which he was caressed, changed his character completely. From firm and serious as he ought to have remained, he became a quarrelsome man and a bully: briefly, one fine day he insulted a comrade for the miserable pleasure of boasting; but he was killed like a fly. I only relate this story to thee to kill time; but it might be that thou wouldst have occasion to profit by it. And with that, here is my pipe finished; the sky is still covered with darkness, but we shall yet have two hours to sleep."
​At this moment the voice of Franz was heard. He came to bring us news of the sick lady.
"The baroness," said he, "has entirely recovered from her indisposition, which she attributes to an unpleasant dream."
At these words, I was about to utter an exclamation of happiness, but a look from my great uncle closed my mouth.
"It is well;" said he to Franz, "I was only waiting to hear that before taking a little repose, for at my age watchfulness is unwholesome. God preserve us until night is passed!"
Franz retired, and although the cocks were heard crowing in the neighboring village, the justice buried himself in the feathers.
On the morrow, very early, I crept down to ask Adelheid concerning the health of my dear Seraphine. But at the entrance of the apartment I found myself face to face with the baron; his piercing look measured me with all its haughtiness.
"What do you come to seek?" said he to me in a stifled voice. I concealed my emotion as well as I could, and taking courage, I announced pretty firmly, that I came from my uncle to inquire the state of the baroness.
"All goes well," replied the baron, coldly; "she has had a nervous attack, to which she is subject. She is now reposing; and I think that she will appear at table. Tell him that: Go."
The expression of the baron's face in making me this answer, revealed an impatience which made me judge him more uneasy than he wished to appear. I saluted him and was about retiring, when he took me by the arm, and said to me with a look that seemed blasting to me,
"I have something to say to you, young man."
The tone with which he said these words caused me to make very doubtful suppositions. I saw myself in the presence of an offended husband, who had guessed what was passing in my heart, and who was preparing to exact a ​rigorous account. I was without arms, except a little pocket-knife artistically wrought, which my great uncle had presented to me. I felt it in my pocket at this trying moment, and all my assurance was fortified. I followed the baron, decided to sell my life dearly if matters became serious. Arrived at his chamber, the baron shut the door with care, walked several times back and forth, and, stopping before me, with his arms folded upon his breast,
"Young man," continued he, "I have something to say to you."
All my energy blazed up, and my answer was as follows: "I hope, baron, that what you have to speak to me about, will not require on my part any reparation."
The baron looked at me as if he had not understood; then he looked down, and, with his hands behind him, recommenced his promenade. I saw him take the carbine and sound the charge. My blood boiled under the apprehension of danger, and I opened, in the bottom of my pocket, the little knife, stepping nearer to the baron to prevent his taking aim at me.
"Pretty arm," said the baron, and he deposited the carbine in a corner. I knew not what face to put on the matter, when the baron, coming back towards me, put his hand on my shoulder and said,
"Theodore, I must appear very extraordinary to you this morning. I am really entirely upset by the anguish of the past night. The nervousness of my wife had nothing in it to make me uneasy; but there exists in this castle, I know not what evil genius, which makes me look upon all things in the most gloomy light; this is the first time that the baroness has been taken sick here, and you are the sole cause of it."
"Truly," I said calmly, "I cannot explain myself——"
"I wish," interrupted the baron, "that the infernal harpsichord had been broken into a thousand pieces the day that it was brought to my house! But, after all, I ought to have watched, from the first day, over what was passing here. My ​wife is so delicately organized, that the least excess of sensation might cause her death. I had brought her here with the hope that this rude climate, joined to the occupations of a rough and strong mode of life, would produce on her a fortunate reaction: but you have taken it upon yourself to enervate her the more with your languishing melodies. Her exalted imagination was predisposed and subject to any shock, when you dealt her a fatal blow, in relating before her, I know not what stupid ghost story. Your great uncle has told me all; so you can deny nothing; I only wish you to repeat to me yourself all that you pretend to have seen."
The turn that our conversation took, re-assured me sufficiently, to enable me to obey the orders of the baron. He only interrupted my very detailed narration by short exclamations, which he immediately restrained. When I came to the scene in which my great uncle had so powerfully conjured the invisible phantom, he raised his joined hands to heaven and exclaimed,
"Yes, that was truly the tutelary genius of the family; and when God shall call back his soul, I wish that his remains may sleep with honor by the side of my ancestors!"
Then, as I remained silent, he took my hand and added,
"Young man, it was you who caused unwittingly the illness of my wife; from you must come her cure."
I felt the color come into my face at these words. The baron, who was observing me, smiled at my embarrassment, and continued in a tone which bordered upon irony,
"You are not called upon to attend a very sick person, and this is the service that I expect from you. The baroness is entirely under the influence of your music; it would be cruel to suppress it. I authorize you then, to continue it, but I require you to change the style of the pieces that you execute before her. Make a gradual choice of sonatas more and more energetic; mix skilfully the gay and the serious; and then, above all, speak to her often of the apparition which you have related to her. She will gradually become familiar ​with this idea, and will end by attaching no farther importance to it. You understand me well, do you not? I count on your exactness."
On finishing this species of instruction, the baron left me. I remained confounded to myself, judged as a being of so little consequence, that I was not even capable of awaking the jealousy of a man by my attentions to the most beautiful woman that it was possible to imagine. Now my heroic dream was broken, I fell to the level of the child who takes seriously in his amusements his gilt paper crown for real.
My great uncle, persuaded that I had been playing some trick, awaited my return with anxiety.
"From whence comest thou?" cried he, as I came in sight.
"I have just had," said I, quite disconcerted, "an interview with the baron."
"Alas!" said the worthy justice; "when I told thee that sooner or later it would end badly——"
The burst of laughter with which my great uncle accompanied this sally, proved clearly to me that on all sides I was turned into ridicule. I suffered violently, but I took good care not to allow it to be perceived; had I not the future open to revenge myself for the little that was granted to me? The baroness appeared at dinner, dressed in white, which color accorded with the paleness of her cheeks; her physiognomy breathed a melancholy milder than ever; I felt, at the sight of her, my heart melt in my breast; and besides, I felt against Seraphine herself, in despite of her divine beauty, something of the anger with which the baron had inspired me; it seemed to me that these two beings united together to mystify me; I thought I read, I know not what of ironical in the half veiled look of Seraphine, and all the graciousness of her former reception wounded me like an odious lie. I sought with extreme care to keep myself as far from her as possible, and I took my place between two soldiers, with whom I drank full glasses, and time after time. Towards the end of the meal, a servant presented me with a plate filled with sugar plums, and ​whispered these words in my ear: "From Adelheid." I took the plate, and on the largest of the sweetmeats I read these words, traced on the sugared envelope, with the point of a knife: "and Seraphine!" An ardent flame immediately circulated in my veins. I threw a fugitive look at Adelheid; she made a sign to me which seemed to say:
"Drinker, you forget nothing but the health of Seraphine?"
I immediately carried my glass to my lips; I emptied it at a single draught, and, on replacing it on the table, I perceived that the beautiful baroness had done the same; we had drank at the same instant; and, when our glasses touched the table, our eyes met! A cloud passed over my eyes, and the remorse of my ingratitude wounded my heart. Seraphine loves me; I have no longer any right to doubt; my happiness will become madness. But one of the guests arose, and, according to the custom of the North, proposed to drink to the health of the mistress of the castle. I know not how much spite, at finding myself anticipated, disturbed my brain: I take my glass, I raise it; I remain immovable; it seemed to me in this moment of fascination, that I was about to fall at the feet of my mistress.
"Well! what are you doing, my dear friend?" said my nearest neighbor.
This single word broke the charm; my eyes were opened—but Seraphine had disappeared.
After the repast, my intoxication became so insupportable, that I had to go out of the castle, in spite of the hurricane which was blowing, and the snow which was falling thickly. I took to running through the furze, along the borders of the lake, crying out with all my force:—"See how the devil makes the foolish child dance, who wished to pluck the forbidden fruit in the garden of love!"
And I ran, I ran until I lost my breath; and God knows how far I should have gone in this way, if I had not heard my name called out in the woods by a known voice, that of the master forester of R—sitten.
​"Hallo! my dear Theodore," exclaimed this honest man, "where the devil do you come from to wet your feet in the snow, at the risk of catching a fatal cold? I have been looking for you everywhere, for the justice has been waiting for you at the castle two long hours."
Recalled to the track of common sense by the remembrance of my great uncle, I followed, a little mechanically, the guide who had been sent to seek me.
On arriving, I found him gravely attending to his duties, in the audience hall. I counted on receiving a lecture; but the good man was very indulgent.
"Cousin," said he to me, smilingly, "thou didst well to go out and cool thyself to-day, but be more reasonable for the future; thou art not of an age to permit thyself those little excesses."
As I did not answer a word, and as, like a scholar caught in fault, I feigned an anxiety to set myself to work—
"Tell me then, in full," continued my great uncle, "what passed between the baron and thee."
I confessed all, without restriction.
"Very well," interrupted my great uncle, when he had heard enough of it; "the baron confided to thee a famous mission! Luckily for him we go away to-morrow."
At these words I thought that I should fall. But on the morrow the great uncle kept his word, and since then I have never seen Seraphine.
A few days after our return, the respectable justice was assailed by extremely violent attacks of the gout. His temper, on account of the sufferings that he endured, became suddenly morose and bitter; in spite of my care and the aid of medicine, the disease only grew worse.
One morning I was called to him in great haste; a crisis more painful than the others, nearly killed him; I found him lying on his bed; his hand held a crumpled letter, which he tightly pressed. I recognized the hand-writing of the steward of R—sitten; but my sorrow was so great that no curiosity was awakened in my mind; I trembled constantly, for ​fear that I should see this dear old relation expire, whose true affection for myself I was well acquainted with. Finally, after many hours of anguish, life gained the ascendant, the pulse commenced to beat, and the robust organization of the old man tired out the attacks of death. Gradually the danger disappeared; but he remained many months confined, without hardly moving, on his suffering bed. His health was so destroyed by this shaking, that it was necessary for him to retire from the practice of the law. There was no longer any hope of my return to R—sitten. The poor sick man could bear with no other care than mine, and, when his pain left him a moment of respite, all his consolation was to talk with me, but he never spoke of our stay at R—sitten, and I dared not myself recall it to his remembrance. When, by force of devotion and assiduous watching, I succeeded in restoring my great uncle to comparative health, the remembrance of Seraphine awoke in my heart, surrounded by a more powerful charm than ever. One day that I opened by chance, a portfolio, which I had used during my stay at R—sitten, something white fell from it. It was a silk ribbon that tied together a lock of Seraphine's hair. On examining this token of remembrance, given by secret love, that fate had crushed at its birth, I noticed a reddish spot on the ribbon. Was it blood? and this blood, was it a prognostic of some tragical event? My imagination abandoned itself to the most fatal suppositions, without having any means to verify its fears or putting a stop to them.
Meanwhile, my great uncle gradually regained his strength with the fine weather. During a mild evening, I had taken him to walk under the odorous lindens in our garden. He was in a joyous humor.
"Cousin," said he, "I feel myself exceedingly strong; but I do not deceive myself concerning the future; this return to health resembles the last vivid flashes of a lamp on the eve of going out. But, before going to sleep the last slumber, whose approach I feel with the calmness of a just ​man, I have to acquit myself of a debt towards thee. Dost thou remember our stay at R—sitten?"
This unexpected question threw me into inexpressible confusion. The old man perceived it, and continued without giving me time to seek for an answer.
"Cousin," said he, "thou wouldst have given thyself up without my aid, to a passion which might have plunged thee into an abyss of misfortune, if I had not withdrawn thee from R—sitten. There exists, concerning the master of that castle, a mysterious story, with which thy imprudence was near mixing thee. Now that the danger is past, listen to me; I wish, before death separates us, to reveal to thee strange facts. Perhaps thou wilt find, some day, occasion to profit by it."
And here is what the great uncle related to me, speaking of himself in the third person.
During a stormy night of 176–, the inhabitants of the manor of R—sitten were suddenly awakened by a shock like an earthquake. All the servants of this gloomy domain ran frightened through the rooms, to seek the cause of this event; but they found no vestige of destruction. All had returned to the secular calm, in which reposed the ancient family residence of R—sitten. Meanwhile, the old major-domo, Daniel, having gone up alone to the knight's hall, where baron Roderick, of R—sitten, retired every night after his labors in alchemy, to which he abandoned himself ardently, was seized with horror at the sight of a sorrowful spectacle. Between the door of Roderick's room and the door of another apartment, was a third door conducting to the summit of the castle-keep, into a pavilion that the baron had constructed for his experiments. Daniel having opened this door, a gust of wind extinguished his lamp; some bricks became detached from the wall, and fell into the gulf with a hoarse reverberation. Daniel fell upon his knees, exclaiming,
"Merciful heaven! our good master perished by a terrible death!"
​A short time after the body of the unfortunate lord was brought back in the arms of his weeping servants. They clothed him in his richest vestments, and they exposed him to view on a bier, constructed in the middle of the knight's hall.
An examination of the place showed that the upper arch of the keep had caved in. The weight of the stones forming the key of the arch had crushed in the floor; the beams carried down at the same time, had, under their weight, thrown down a part of the wall, and pierced like arrows the lower stories, so that on opening, in the darkness, the door of the great hall, you could not step into the tower, without falling into a hole more than a hundred feet deep.
The old baron Roderick had predicted the day of his death, and had announced it to Wolfgang, the eldest of his children, on whom fell the entail of R—sitten. This young lord, having received at Vienna the message of his father, started without delay to go to him. On his arrival he found his fears cruelly realized, and fell fainting by the side of the funeral couch.
"My poor father!" exclaimed he, in a voice broken by sobs, after a long pause of inanition and silent despair; "my poor father! the study of the mysteries of the world has not given thee the science of prolonging life."
After the funeral of the old lord, the young baron had narrated to him the details of the ruin of the turret by Daniel; and, as the major-domo asked for his orders for the reparation of it,
"No, never," said Wolfgang. "What to me is this old residence, where my father consumed, in the study of magic, the treasures that I had a right to inherit some day! I do not believe that the turret was destroyed by an ordinary accident. My father perished the victim of the explosion of his accursed crucibles, in which melted away my fortune. I will not give a florin to replace one stone of these ruins. I prefer finishing the villa that one of my ancestors has commenced in the valley."
​"But," said Daniel, "what will be the fate of the ancient and faithful followers, whose asylum this manor is? Shall they go and beg the bread of pity?"
"What is it to me!" replied the inheritor of the entail; "what have I to do with these old people. I shall give to each one a reward proportioned to the length of his services."
"Alas, alas!" exclaimed the major-domo, mournfully, "must I at my age be sent from this house, where I hoped that my bones would rest in peace!"
"Accursed dog," howled Wolfgang, his hand raised against Daniel; "damned hypocrite, dost thou expect any favor of me, and dost thou think to make me thy dupe, after having aided my father in his sorcery, which consumed gradually the best part of my inheritance; thou who excitedst in the heart of the old man all the extravagances of avarice! Ought I not, to reward thee worthily, kill thee?"
Great was, at these words, the fright of Daniel; he crawlingly threw himself at the feet of his new lord, who having no compassion upon him, knocked him down to the floor by a violent kick in the breast. The miserable major-domo uttered a stifled cry, like a wild beast wounded, and raised himself slowly, throwing a look full of hatred and vengeance towards his master, then went away without picking up a purse full of gold that baron Wolfgang had dropped, to pay for the ill treatment that had been inflicted upon his servant.
The first care of the new proprietor of R—sitten was to compute, with the assistance of his counsellor, the lawyer V——, my great uncle, the state of the revenues of the estate. This examination, finished with the most minute care, established in the mind of the lawyer that the old baron Roderick had not been able to spend the whole of the annual rent of his domain; and as they had found amongst his papers but very insignificant value in bills of exchange, it was manifest that the cash must have been secreted in some place, of which the major-domo, Daniel, confidant of the deceased, alone possessed the secret.
​The baron Wolfgang narrated to his counsellor the violent scene in which he had struck Daniel, and showed some fear that, to revenge himself, he would not discover the hiding-place where reposed, probably, the ducats of the old lord. The counsellor, like a sensible man, and like a skilful lawyer who knows how to make people communicative in spite of themselves, told Wolfgang not to trouble himself, and declared that he would take it upon himself to interrogate Daniel. But his first essays were unsuccessful. To every question Daniel answered, with a satanic smile—"Good heavens! Master Justice, I have no desire to make a mystery concerning a few miserable crowns! You will find a goodly number in a closet belonging to the bed-chamber of my poor master. As for the remainder," added he with flashing glances, "you must go and seek for them under the ruins of the turret. I engage that there could be enough gold found there to purchase a province."
Conformably to his directions, the closet was searched in presence of Daniel. There was found a large iron trunk, full of pieces of gold and silver, with a folded parchment under the cover. They read there the following lines, written by the old baron's own hand:
"He who shall inherit, after my death, the castle of R—sitten, will find here one hundred and fifty thousand ducats, of which it is my last wish that he should make use to construct, at the western angle of this castle, in the place of the turret that he will find destroyed, a light-house, whose light should burn every night, to warn those who sail upon the lake."
This singular will was signed with the name and seal of Roderick, baron of R—sitten, and dated St. Michaels eve, 176–.
After having verified the account of the ducats, Wolfgang turned towards Daniel.
"Thou hast been," said he to him, "a faithful servant, and I regret the violence with which I have used thee unjustly. ​To repay thee for it, I continue thee in thy office of major-domo. According to thy desire, thy bones shall rest in this castle; if thou wishest gold, stoop and fill thy hands."
Daniel only answered the young baron by a hoarse groan. The justice trembled at the extraordinary sound of that voice, which appeared to sob in an infernal language—"I want none of thy gold—I want thy blood!"
Wolfgang, dazzled by the sight of the treasure which rolled before his eyes, had not observed the equivocal look of Daniel, when the latter, with the cowardliness of a whipped dog, bent down to kiss the hand of his lord, and thank him for his gracious goodness,
Wolfgang shut the coffer, the key of which he put into his pocket; then he came out of the closet, saying to Daniel, with his face suddenly clouded—"Would it then be so difficult to recover the treasure buried under the ruins of the turret?"
Daniel answered by shaking his head, and opened the door which led to the keep. But hardly was it open, when a whirlwind of cold air forced into the room a mass of snow, and from the abyss arose an owl, who made several turns back and forth, and flew away frightened, uttering mournful cries.
The baron advanced towards the edge of the gulf, and could not refrain from shuddering, in measuring with a look its black depths. The justice, fearing a vertigo, drew Wolfgang back, whilst Daniel hastened to shut the fatal door, saying in a piteous tone—"Alas, yes, down there are buried and broken the instruments of the great art of my honored master, articles of the highest value!"
"But," exclaimed the baron, "thou hast spoken of moneyed treasures, of considerable sums——"
"Oh," continued Daniel, "I only meant to say that the telescopes, the retorts, the quarter circles, the crucibles, had cost considerable sums. I know nothing more."
No other reply could be elicited from the major-domo.
Baron Wolfgang felt quite joyful in having at his disposition pretty large sums to meet the expense of the construction ​of the new castle that he wished to finish. Architects of renown were called to R—sitten, to draw up plans for him to choose from; but the lord of the domain, not being able to decide upon any of those that were presented to him, decided upon drawing himself the sketch of the elegant habitation which he wished to erect for himself; and, for the rest, he spared no expense to pay liberally all the workmen that he employed.
Daniel appeared to have forgotten his feelings against Wolfgang, and acted towards the baron with a reserve full of respect.
A short time after these events, the peaceful life of the inhabitants of R—sitten was troubled by the arrival of a new personage, Hubert, the younger brother of Wolfgang. This unexpected visit produced on the inheritor of the castle a singular impression. He repulsed the embraces of his brother, and drew him violently into a distant room, where they remained shut up for several hours. At the end of this long interview, Hubert came out with a look of consternation, and asked for his horse;—but when he was about to depart, lawyer V——, thinking that this meeting would establish again, forever, harmony between two brothers, too long separated by family dissensions, begged Hubert to remain for a few hours longer at the castle: and, at the same time, baron Wolfgang arriving, joined his entreaties to those of the justice, saying to his brother,
"I hope that before long thou wilt reflect."
These words calmed, apparently, the agitation of Hubert; he decided upon remaining. Towards evening, my great uncle went up to Wolfgang's study, to consult with him concerning a detail of the administration of the affairs of the castle. He found him a prey to a violent anxiety, and walking the room hurriedly, like a man pre-occupied with a fixed and painful idea.
"My brother has just arrived," said Wolfgang, "and I have found in him, at first, evidences of that family aversion ​which has separated us for so many years. Hubert hates me because I am rich, and because he has spent, like a true prodigal, the greater part of his fortune. He comes to me with the most hostile disposition, as if I ought to become responsible for his folly. I cannot and will not dispossess myself of the smallest part of the revenues of my inheritance. But, like a good brother, I would consent to abandon to him a half that belongs to me, of a vast domain, that our father possessed in Courland. This sacrifice, on my part, would place Hubert in a position to pay the debts that he has contracted, and to withdraw from annoyance his wife and children, who are suffering now the consequences of his improvidence and misconduct. But, figure to yourself, my dear V——, that this prodigal madman has discovered, I know not by what sorcery, the existence in my hands of the coffer which contains the hundred and fifty thousand ducats, that we found in the vault. He pretends that he can force me to give up to him a half of this sum! But may the lightning strike me before I consent to it; and if he meditates any evil trick against me, God preserve me, and make his attempts unsuccessful."
The justice forgot nothing that would make Wolfgang look upon the visit of his brother in a less odious light. Charged by the baron with the negotiation of a transaction with Hubert, he acquitted himself of this confidential mission with infinite zeal. Hubert, pressed by a very active need of money, accepted the offers of Wolfgang with two conditions: the first, that Wolfgang should add to his part of the inheritance a present of four thousand ducats, which should be employed to calm the pursuit of the most pressing among his creditors; the second, that he should be permitted to pass several days at R—sitten, near his beloved brother.
To this demand Wolfgang loudly exclaimed, that he could never subscribe, his wife being on the point of arriving. For the rest, he counted out to Hubert two thousand pieces of gold, as a gift.
​On listening to the message of the justice, Hubert knit his brows:—"I will reflect upon it," said he; "but meanwhile, I am installed here, and I will not stir."
The justice exhausted himself in vain efforts to dissuade him from his resistance to the desires of the baron. Hubert could not tranquilly resign himself to seeing the inheritance in the hands of a brother, privileged by right of age. This law appeared to him supremely unjust and wounding. The generosity of Wolfgang appeared to him more difficult to support than an injury.
"So then," exclaimed he, "my brother treats me like a beggar! I will never forget it, and soon, I hope, he will appreciate the consequences of his proceedings as regards me.
Hubert installed himself, as he had announced, in one of the wings of the old castle. He passed his days in hunting, and often Daniel accompanied him; he was, besides, the only one of the inhabitants of the manor whose association appeared to agree with him. He lived, for the rest, in almost absolute solitude, avoiding, above all things, a meeting with his brother. The justice did not remain long without conceiving some suspicion, and without manifesting a certain distrust, in regard to Hubert and his mysterious life. One morning, Hubert entered his office, and announced that he had changed his opinion, that he was ready to quit R—sitten, provided that he counted out to him on the spot, the two thousand pieces of gold agreed upon.
"His departure," said he, "was fixed for the next night; and as he wished to travel on horseback, he asked that the sum might be given to him in a letter of credit, on the banker Isaac Lazarus, of the city of K., where it was his intention to establish himself.
This news caused ineffable joy in the heart of Wolfgang.
"My dear brother," said he, whilst signing the letters of credit, "has at last renounced his angry disposition towards me! Good harmony is forever re-established between us, or at least he will no longer sadden, by his presence, the occupation of this castle."
​In the middle of the following night, the justice V—— was suddenly awakened by a lamentable groan. He arose in bed and listened; but all had become silence again, and V—— imagined that he had had a bad dream: he left his bed and went to the window to calm his mind by breathing the cool night air. Hardly had he remained a few minutes leaning on the window-sill, than he saw the castle door open, creaking on its rusty hinges. Daniel, the major-domo, armed with a dark lantern, took from the stable a saddled horse, which he led into the yard; then another man, enveloped to the eyes in a furred cloak, came out of the castle; it was Hubert, who conversed several minutes with the major-domo, gesticulating animatedly, after which he re-entered the castle. Daniel conducted the horse back to the stable, shut it, also the door of the castle, and retired noiselessly. The justice made all kinds of conjectures concerning this failure to depart. He asked himself for what motive Hubert could have changed his mind; did there not exist between him and Daniel some understanding to produce an evil, that the future alone would make known? All possible suppositions were equally dangerous and painful; great sagacity and an indefatigable surveillance was necessary to thwart the evil projects that these two men could nourish between them, the last of whom above all, master Daniel, was already covered, in the eyes of the justice, with a coating of ineffacable wickedness. V—— passed the remainder of the night in the midst of singular reflections, which were something less than re-assuring. At day break, as he was about to go to sleep again, he heard a great noise of confused voices, and people who were running about in every direction; soon several distracted servants came and knocked at his door, and announced to him that the baron Wolfgang had disappeared, without their being able to tell what had become of him. He had retired the night before at his usual hour, then he must have gone out in his night dress with a light, for these articles were no longer to be found in his chamber, in the place where they were the night before.
​Struck with a sudden idea, which caused him the most cruel anguish, the justice V—— recollected the fact, of which he was rendered the involuntary witness the past night. He also recollected the mournful cry that he had heard. His heart a prey to the most fatal apprehensions, he ran to the knight's hall; the door which communicated with the keep was open! The justice pointed with his finger to the abyss of the tower, and said to the servants, chilled with fright,
"It is there that your unfortunate master has found death this night!"
And in fact, through a thick coating of snow, which had drifted during the night, on the ruins, was seen an arm stiffened by death, half extended from amongst the stones. Several hours were required, and at the risk of the greatest danger, to recover, by means of ladders fastened together, the body of baron Wolfgang. One of his hands starkly held the lamp which had served to light him; all his limbs were horribly dislocated in his fall, and torn by the angles of the rocks.
Hubert was amongst the first to make his appearance, offering on his face all the signs of a true despair. The body of Wolfgang was laid on a large table, in the same place, where a short time before they had placed that of the old baron Roderick. Hubert threw himself on the body weepingly.
"Brother," exclaimed he, "I did not ask this fatal vengeance of the demons who possessed me!"
The justice, who was present, did not understand what these mysterious words could signify, but a secret instinct which he could not repress, pointed Hubert out to him as the murderer, through jealousy of the title to the entail. A few hours after this painful scene, Hubert came to seek him in the council chamber. He seated himself, pale and unnerved, in an oak arm chair, and spoke in a voice, made tremulous by emotion.
"I was," said he, "the enemy of my brother, on account of that absurd law which enriches the eldest of a family to the disadvantage of the other children. A frightful ​misfortune has ended his days. I wish that this may not be a chastisement from heaven for the hardness of his heart. I am now the inheritor of the entail; God knows how much this change of fortune afflicts my heart; all happiness in this world has fled from me. As for yourself, sir, I confirm you fully in the charges and powers that were confided to you during the lifetime of my father and my brother; rule this domain according to your views, for my best interest. As for myself, I am about to leave this castle; I cannot live a single day longer amongst the scenes where such frightful events have taken place."
With these words, Hubert arose and left the apartment. Two hours afterwards he was galloping his horse towards K——.
Meanwhile they were busy making inquiries concerning the cause of the death of the unfortunate baron. The common opinion was that he had arisen during the night, to seek for some book in the library. Deceived by his half slumbering condition, he mistook the door, and had opened the middle one, which opened on the abyss. This explanation was not wholly satisfactory; the door leading to the turret must have been usually bolted with great care, and time and strength were necessary to open it. How then imagine that the young baron could have been the victim of such an error? The justice lost himself in reflections, when Franz, the favorite servant of Wolfgang, who listened to him as he was talking to himself, interrupted him to say,
"Ah! it was not thus, that his misfortune happened!"
But all the questions with which he was urged, could not draw from him the least explanation in presence of witnesses. He declared that he would only speak to the justice, and under promise of secrecy. He afterwards related, in a mysterious conversation, that the departed often spoke of treasures that he supposed were buried up under the ruins of the turret; that he had taken the key of the door from Daniel, and that often, in the middle of the night, he went and crouched over ​the gulf, to dream at leisure of the immense riches that his love of gold led him to imagine were buried up in this abyss. It was probable that during one of these perigrinations, he had been attacked with a dizziness, and fallen. Daniel, who appeared to feel, more sensibly than any other person, the horror of this accident, proposed to have the door walled-up, and his suggestion was immediately followed.
Hubert, invested with the title, returned to the province of Courland, leaving to justice V—— the necessary power for managing for him the domain of R—sitten. The project for the construction of a new castle was abandoned, and they solely occupied themselves in propping up the ruins of the old one.
Several years after these events, Hubert re-appeared one day at R—sitten: it was at the beginning of autumn. During the short stay that he made at the castle, he had frequent secret interviews with the justice, spoke of his approaching death, and announced that he had deposited his will in the hands of the magistrates of the city of K——. His presentiments were justified: he died the next year. His son, who bore his name, went immediately to R—sitten, to take possession of his inheritance; his mother and sisters were his companions. The young lord appeared to be inclined to all the vices. On his arrival at R—sitten, he drew upon himself the hatred of all his companions in the manor: the first act of his will was about to turn everything in the domain upside down, when the justice declared that he formally opposed the orders given by this young madman, until after the will of his father was read, which could alone confer upon him in a reasonable manner the rights that he so arrogantly assumed.
The unexpected resistance on the part of a man who was nothing in his eyes but an upper servant, transported the young lord with anger. But the justice knew how to hold his own against the storm, and maintained courageously the inviolability of his functions. He went so far as to order young Hubert to leave R—sitten until the day fixed for the ​reading of the will. Three months from that time, the parchments were opened at K——, in the presence of the magistrates of the city. Besides the witnesses necessary to this reading, justice V—— had brought a good looking young man, but simply dressed, and who might have been taken for his secretary. The future possessor of the title presented himself arrogantly, and claimed the immediate reading of the will, not having, as he said, much time to lose in foolish formalities.
The deceased baron Hubert of R—sitten declared that he had never possessed the title as the real inheritor, but that he had managed for the interest of the only son of his brother Wolfgang of R—sitten. This child bore, like his grandfather, the name of Roderick; he alone could be the legitimate heir to the title. The will related, besides, that the baron Wolfgang, in his travels, had been united at Geneva, by a secret marriage, with a young lady of noble family, but without fortune. His wife, at the end of a year, had left him a widower with a son, whose rights of birth no one could contest, and who found himself thus called to inherit the title. Finally, to explain his perpetual silence during his lifetime on the subject of this revelation, Hubert declared that a private agreement between Wolfgang and himself, had made this silence a sacred obligation.
The reading of the articles of the will being ended, the justice V—— arose and presented to the magistrates the young unknown that he had brought with him.
"Gentlemen," said he, "this is the baron Roderick of R——, legitimate son of Wolfgang of R——, and lord by right of the inheritance and title of R—sitten."
Hubert, hearing these words, appeared annihilated as if stunned by a thunder clap; then recovering himself by a kind of convulsion, he stretched out his hand like a threat against the young man who thus suddenly stood between him and his fortune, and sprang out of the hall with all the signs of a furious delirium.
​Meanwhile, by order of the magistrates, Roderick drew from his pockets the writings that established, indubitably, his identity; he also placed before their eyes the letters of his father to his mother. But, in the papers, Wolfgang had taken the standing of merchant, and the name of DeBorn; and his letters, although the resemblance of the hand-writing was evident, only bore for signature the initial W——. The judges were very much embarrassed to decide this grave question, and separated, to proceed to a vigorous study of the facts that had been submitted to them. Hubert, informed of what was passing, immediately addressed a request to the regent of the district, to be put into immediate possession of the inheritance, in default of sufficient proofs in favor of his adversary. The tribunal decided that it should be done as the baron Hubert of R—sitten solicited, if young Roderick did not, without delay, furnish undoubted evidence of the legitimacy of his claims.
Justice V—— gathered carefully all the papers left by Wolfgang of R——; he was once, towards midnight, in the bed-chamber of the deceased, at R—sitten, buried to the eyes in dust and old files of papers; the moon shone from outside with a sinister light, whose reflections furrowed the walls of the neighboring hall, of which the door was open. Suddenly the justice was drawn from his labor by a noise of footsteps that proceeded from the stairway, and by the jingling of a bunch of keys. He rose and went into the hall, listening attentively. A door opened, and a man partly dressed, carrying a dark lantern, entered staggeringly, his face pale and distorted. V—— recognized Daniel; he was about speaking to him, when on examining the features of the old major-domo, he perceived that he was suffering an attack of somnambulism, for he was walking with his eyes closed,—directed himself towards the walled-up door, placed his lantern on the floor, drew a key from the bunch hanging at his girdle, and began to scratch at the door, uttering hoarse groans. A few minutes after he placed his ear to the wall, as if to listen to ​some noise, and with an imperative gesture seemed to impose silence on some one. Finally, after all these mysterious demonstrations, he stooped, took up his lantern, and returned by the same way that he had come. The justice followed him carefully, Daniel descended, went to the stable, saddled a horse, conducted him to the court yard, and after having remained a short time with his head bent, in the posture of a servant who is receiving the orders of his master, he put the horse back into the stable, and went back to his chamber, of which he took care to bolt the door. This strange scene gave birth in the mind of the justice, to the idea that a crime had been committed, in the castle, and that Daniel had been either the accomplice or the witness of it.
The following day, towards dark, Daniel having presented himself in his room to perform certain details of his duty, the justice took him by both hands, and made him sit down in an arm-chair opposite to him.
"Tell me, now," said he to him, "my old Daniel, what you think of the disagreeable suit now pending between Hubert and young Roderick?"
"Ahem, ahem! what is it to me which of them shall be master here?" answered Daniel, winking his eyes and lowering his voice, as if he was afraid of being heard.
"What is the matter with you, Daniel?" continued the justice, "you tremble all over as if you had committed a crime. It would be said, on seeing you, that you had just passed a very restless night."
Daniel, instead of answering, arose heavily, and tried to go out of the room, throwing an unmeaning look around him. But the justice, forcing him into his chair again, said to him harshly,
"Stay, Daniel, and tell me immediately what, you did last night: or rather explain to me what I saw?"
"Well, in God's name, what did you see?" said the old man, shudderingly.
The justice related the nocturnal scene that I have just ​described. Whilst listening to him the old major-domo, stupified, sank back into the great chair, and covered his face with his hands, to hide himself from the penetrating look that interrogated him.
"It appears, Daniel," continued the justice, "that the desire takes you, during the night, to go and visit the treasures that the old baron Roderick had amassed in the turret. In their attacks, somnambulists answer, without equivocation, to the questions that are put to them; the next night we will speak of certain things."
As the justice spoke, Daniel was troubled; at the last words uttered by V——, he cried out loudly, and fell fainting. Some servants were called, and carried him immediately to his bed, insensible. He passed from this crisis to a state of complete lethargy, which lasted several hours. On awaking, he asked for drink, then sent away the servant, who was watching with him, and shut himself up in his room.
The following night, as the justice was thinking of making a decisive trial on Daniel, he heard a noise without, as if several panes of glass were being broke. He ran to the window: a thick vapor was issuing from the room occupied by Daniel, of which they had forced the door to save it from the fire. The old major-domo was found in a fainting fit on the floor. His broken lantern by his side, had communicated the fire to the bed curtains, and without the prompt aid which was rendered to him, he would have perished miserably. It had been necessary, in order to reach him, to break down the door, fastened by two enormous bolts. The justice understood that Daniel wished to make it impossible for him to get out of his room, but the blind instinct which directs somnambulists had been stronger than his will. He had awoke in the midst of the crisis, on finding an unaccustomed resistance; his lantern had fallen from his hand, had set fire, and the fright had made him lose the use of his senses. Come to himself, Daniel had a long and serious illness, from which he arose only to drag himself about in a frightfully languid condition.
​One evening that the justice, constantly occupied in seeking the proofs winch established the rights of Roderick, his protégé, was searching once more the archives of R—sitten, Daniel entered the room, walking with measured steps, like a spectre. He went directly towards the desk of the justice, on which he laid a portfolio of black leather; then he fell upon his knees, exclaiming:
"There is a Judge in heaven! I wished to have time to repent!"
Then he arose and went out of the chamber slowly, as he had come.
The black portfolio contained precious papers, all written by the hand of Wolfgang, and sealed with his seal. These papers established clearly the legitimacy of his son, and contained the history of his secret marriage. These proofs became indisputable. Hubert was obliged to recognize them when they were presented to him, and he declared before the judges that he desisted from all claims to the inheritance of his uncle Wolfgang of R—sitten. After this move he quitted the city and the country. It was known that he went to St. Petersburg, where he served in the Russian army, and had been sent to Persia. His mother and sister occupied themselves, after his departure, with putting in order the affairs of their domain in Courland. Roderick, violently smitten with the charms of Hubert's sister, followed these ladies to their homes, and the justice V—— having returned to K——, the castle of R—sitten became again more gloomy and deserted than ever.
Since the scene of the black portfolio, Daniel had become so ill, that it had been necessary to bestow his office upon another major-domo. Franz was invested with this employment, which was a just recompense for his faithful service. A short time after, all the judicial affairs relative to the entail were completely elucidated; the legal formalities were fulfilled by the care of justice V——, who gave himself no rest until he had seen the young Roderick installed securely, and sheltered from all ​further fears. But a short time elapsed before he had heard that Hubert, his competitor, had perished in a battle against the Persians; so that his property in Courland passed into the hands of the beautiful Seraphine, his sister, who reciprocated the love of Roderick, and who was soon united to him by the bonds of marriage. The wedding took place at R—sitten at the commencement of the month of November, and nothing was spared to give to this ceremony all the splendor which the high rank and riches of the parties required. The justice V——, who had looked upon himself for a number of years as inseparable from the lord of R—sitten, had chosen for his domicil at the castle, the old sleeping room of the ancient Roderick, in order, thought he, to be thus more able to spy into the secrets of the conduct of Daniel. One evening that the baron and his lawyer, seated in this chamber, one at each end of a table, placed before an enormous fire, were busy examining the condition of the revenues of the domain, the blast roared outside with great fury; the fir trees in the forest cracked like giant skeletons, and the howling of the wind, like sobs, pervaded the galleries.
"What frightful weather out there, and how comfortable it is here!" exclaimed V——.
"Yes, yes, frightful," repeated Roderick, mechanically, whom nothing had been able to abstract from his calculations until then. He arose to go to the window to observe the effect of the tempest: but hardly was he up, than he fell back into his chair, his mouth open, his look fixed, his hand extended towards the door which had just opened, to give entrance to a livid and fleshless figure, whose aspect would have inspired the bravest with terror. It was Daniel!
Paler than Daniel, and agitated by a feverish impatience on seeing the old major-domo scratch at the walled-up door, the baron Roderick sprang towards him, crying out:
"Daniel, Daniel! what doest thou here at this hour?"
Daniel uttered a groan and fell backwards. They tried to raise him, the unfortunate man was dead.
​"Great God!" exclaimed Roderick, clasping his hands, "what a crime a moment of fear has made me commit! this man was a somnambulist, and the physicians, do they not say that it is sufficient to call a man by his name, when he is in his fits of hallucination, to kill him suddenly?"
"Baron," said the justice, gravely, "do not accuse yourself of the punishment of this man who has just died, for he was the murderer of your father!"
"Of my father?"
"Yes, my lord; it was the hand of God which struck him when you spoke; the terror which seized upon you, is the instinct of odious repulsion, which takes possession of us at the aspect, at the touch of a scoundrel. The words that you spoke to Daniel, and which killed him like a clap of thunder, are the last that your unfortunate father pronounced."
The justice, taking then from his pocket a writing carefully sealed, which was wholly from the hand of Hubert, brother of Wolfgang of R—sitten, he set himself about unveiling to the eyes of Roderick, the mysteries of hate and vengeance which had already drawn so many misfortunes upon the family of R—sitten. He read a kind of autograph confession, in which Hubert, (the one who had just died in Persia,) declared that his animosity against his brother Wolfgang, dated from the institution of the entail of R—sitten. This act of the will of their father which deprived him, Hubert, of the best part of his fortune for the advantage of his elder brother, had left in his heart the germs of a resentment which nothing could destroy. Since that epoch, Hubert, yielding to an irresistable desire for vengeance, had concerted with Daniel the most effectual means to create a misunderstanding between Wolfgang and the old baron Roderick. The old man wished to render more illustrious the new title of the alliance of his eldest son with one of the oldest families in the country. His astrological observations had even made him read in the starry heavens the certainty of this union; so that any choice that Wolfgang could have made against his ​will, would have become for him a cause of mortal grief and malediction. Wolfgang, suddenly taken with a violent passion for a young girl of noble lineage, but entirely without fortune, had flattered himself with leading, by force of time and care, his old father to approve the marriage that he had contracted secretly with the woman whom he adored.
Meanwhile the old baron, having found in the constellations the prediction of his approaching death, had written to Geneva to order Wolfgang to come to him immediately. But when he arrived, his father was dead, as we have seen at the commencement of this story. A little later, when Hubert came to R—sitten, to settle with his brother the affairs of the succession, Wolfgang frankly told him the mystery of his marriage, expressing his joy at having been blessed with a son, and with being able soon to discover to his beloved wife, that the merchant DeBorn, to whom she had united her fate, was the rich and powerful heir of the barons of R—sitten. He confided to him, at the same time, his project of returning to Geneva, to bring back the baroness Seraphine of R——. But death surprised him at the moment he was about to set out. Hubert profited by his death, to assure his direct succession to the inheritance, since nothing established the rights of the son of Wolfgang. Nevertheless, as he had in him a fund of loyalty, remorse was not long in taking possession of his mind. An accident which he looked upon as providential, awoke in him the fear of heavenly punishment. He had two children already eleven or twelve years of age, who gave continual proofs of misunderstanding. One day, the eldest of these two children said to the other,
"Thou art nothing but a miserable fellow; I shall be some day the lord of R—sitten, and then it will be necessary, my dear youngster, to come humbly to ask me for enough to buy a new doublet."
The younger, irritated by this pleasantry, struck his brother a blow with his knife, the consequences of which were fatal. Hubert, frightened by this misfortune, sent his remaining son ​to Petersburg, where he was placed in a regiment, under the command of Suvarow. The grief which troubled him made him reflect seriously. He collected, with religious care, the rents of the estate, and sent to Geneva, under the fictitious name of a relation of the merchant DeBorn, abundant pecuniary aid, to provide for the maintenance of the young son of Wolfgang. As to the death of Wolfgang, it long remained a frightful mystery, that the madness of Daniel gave hardly a glimpse of. Here is the explanation given by the confession of Hubert.
On the night of his departure, Daniel, who doubtlessly wished to profit by the animosity which existed between the two brothers, retained him as he was mounting his horse, by saying that he ought not to abandon thus a magnificent inheritance to the avarice of Wolfgang.
"Well! what can I do about it?" exclaimed Hubert, angrily, striking his forehead; then he had added, making a menacing gesture with his carbine—"ah! why have I not been able, in the confusion of a hunt, to find the opportunity to send the sure lead!"
"Fortunate are you not to have committed this imprudence!" continued Daniel, pressing his arm. "But would you be decided upon taking possession of this domain, if you had not the responsibility of the means?"
"Yes, at any price," hoarsely murmured the savage Hubert.
"Remain then here, from this time," said Daniel: you are in your own house, baron of R—sitten; for the former lord of the castle is dead, crushed this night under the ruins of the turret!"
This is the manner in which this fatal drama was accomplished; Daniel, who was pursuing his project of appropriating a good sum of money, without counting the presents of the new baron, had observed that Wolfgang came every night to meditate on the edge of the abyss, that had been hollowed out by the fall of the key-stone to the vault of the turret. One night then, after being acquainted with the approaching ​departure of Hubert, he went and posted himself in an obscure angle of the knight's hall, to wait until Wolfgang appeared at the accustomed hour; and when the unfortunate baron had opened the door of the tower, he had pushed him by the shoulders into the gulf. His sordid avarice thus touched the realization of his hopes, and his hate was satiated with vengeance.
Cruelly moved by these horrible revelations, baron Roderick could no longer live in this castle, over which hung a bloody veil. He returned to his estates in Courland, from whence he came no more to R—sitten, except in the hunting season.
Franz, the new major-domo, related, during my stay at R—sitten, that from time to time, during the nights lighted by the full moon, the shade of Daniel was perceived wandering through the galleries and large halls of the manor.
Such was the recital given to me by my great uncle, the justice. I risked then timidly a question concerning Seraphine.
"Cousin," said the good old man to me in a trembling voice, "the cruel destiny which struck the family of R—sitten did not spare this poor young woman. Two days after our departure, she was tumbled down among the rocks in a sledging party; her skull was fractured. The baron is inconsolable for his loss. Cousin, we shall never return to R—sitten. At these words, the voice of my great-uncle was extinguished in tears. I left him with a lacerated heart.
Many years after these events, the justice had long slept in the tomb. The war of Napoleon ravaged the North, and I was returning from St. Petersburg along the sea coast. In passing near the little city of K——, I perceived at a great distance a starlike flame. As I approached it, I distinguished a very considerable blaze. I asked the postillion if it was a fire.
"No, sir," answered he, "it is the light-house of R—sitten!"
The light-house of R—sitten! this name awoke all the souvenirs of my heart. I saw in a pale halo my adored ​Seraphine! I drove to the village where the steward of the domain lived, I asked to see him.
"Sir," said a clerk in royal livery to me, taking out his pipe, "there is no longer here any steward of the domain of R—sitten. It is a domain sequestered to the crown by the death of the last baron without heirs, deceased sixteen years ago."
I went up to the manor; it was in ruins. They had employed the best materials in the construction of a light-house on the rock. A peasant whom I met in the wood of fir trees told me, with a frightened look, that at the return of the full moon, was often seen white shadows pursuing each other among the ruins uttering mournful cries.
Sweet soul of my Seraphine, thou shalt not go into those desolate places! God has recalled thee to Himself, to sing holy hymns among the angels!
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