The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1874-12-31

| OF the towers, the western one, had
lately been repaired and fitted up, and
even sleps IN, for a time at least. Only
he wondered, for his part, at my caring
to stay in so dull a place some persons
wouldn't fancy it at all. AS for himself,
he was used to it-and an honest man,
They never, never troubled him.
g had not at first attended to the
closing words of this soliloquy but. as
viii sometimes happen, their meaning
came back upon me q moment later, and
[ asked my guide, who still half-reluc-
family led the way into the interior of
| the castle, to what species OF molesta-
tion he alluded. My query was, how.
ever, unheard, or he didn't care to an
swer it, as q gruffish Helm 2 followed
BY caution to look down at my feet
and not mp at the stars, as we passed by
the sunken well at the corner of the
court, was the only reply 1t received,
and scarcely liked to try again.
-" We had by this time entered won
derfully fine desolate old place (sadly
ont of keeping with it's traditionary and
festive name, however, the knights
feasting-hall,' as my conductor called
it,, and where rude arches, still power
ful In their extreme old age, and mas
sive pillars of unpublished stone, cast
rOugh, rich shadows all around, while
half the stars In heaven peered in
through the lofty but dismantlsd roof.
g All this grand preface led TO nothing
more, however, than few narrow and
empty passages. How often have grand
prefaces to other things IN life done Just
the same Who won the first pupils
prize at Dusseldorf To which among
all those pupils did Peter Cornelius in
trust the finishing of Lazarus winding
sheet that time in Rome Not to Roth
man, not to Wilhelm, not to Franz, but
to me There was a fair beginning
preface, if you willard TO what did it
| all lead ? To nothing at all, or to poor
empty passages at best. We passed.
then, straight from the grand old feast
| iug-hall to the low-roofed cell, niched
| among the buttresses, which the guar
| dian called his own. Here a sable cat,
with witch like eyes, eat pensively be-
side the hearth, and a gaudy red-and-
/ yellow print of the holy st. Cunde-
! gonde, pinned away over the mante1-
piece, gave what we call the only touch
Of color to the place.
| " It v as now beginning to grow dark
and my unwilling host took down from
| the shelf a damaged mineral-water bot
tie, with a candle end stuck in it, which
| 40 II LAtNN az s1C CLABGG6- 4ACtlg EALu-
ing to me, Good sir said he, as it
seems no other inn will serve your turn
this night. I suppose you must try
mine ; and he led the way accordingly
| to the apartments of the western tower,
in which, he once more repeated, ac-
commodation was not the one thing
wanted. What was it, theng I
| thought The rooms of the western
! tower had, he said, been refitted with
old family furniture only two years age
by master, Baron G., of Mannheim,
who was himself partial to the place,
and had tried-had in fact, spent some
weeks at the castle last vintage time,
With other members of the family but
he adCe None of the young ladies
throve there, nor, indeed, my hOnored
mistress either. Ike wind blows cold
and damp from the river of night
They said it was always blowing theil
candles ont as they crossed the gallery
to their chambers so one fine day they
all went back to Mannheim.
There was something in this one
particular passage of thu old retaintr's
discourse which took my fancy-for
was then still fancy free, and neither
your charming face, my Margaret, nol
that dear smile of yours, had yet taken
I sD1aCoeAOA Va Ii ChC4I GAOuAAA-hL1l
as / followed my old guide up the creak-
ing staircase I seemed to see before me
those fair young maidens, with their
wind-bloWn lights, wreaLhed together in
their graceful fear-nymph-like, as the
exquisite creations of the English artist
Flaxman.
IS When we had got to the top of the
old stone stairway. Fritz, as he told me
he was called by friends and foes alike,
fumbled In some hidden corner, and
having found rusty key there, applied
| 1t to the lock of a black-paneled door,
which opened to his touch, as doors are
| apt to DO that are not often asked to
| take that trouble, slowly and unwill-
ingly, nay, even more than that, as il
some one held it back from within.
Who's in there said I, in low voice,
to Fritz. Helm was the sole reply.
AS last, however, the door yielded tc
bis pushing. In We went, and there
was no one there after all.
1t was dismal chamber, and 6
large one. It had tapestries and sci
of pondTOus high backed benches, and
seemed to serve as ante-chamber 10 the
rest. Through it we passed on int
another, and another after that, an6
yet one more-all dim, chill, and silen
as the grave and at last we came to the
furthest one of them all, in which
huge, unwieldy- looking bed of antique
form, with sweeping draperies of darl
serge, o'ershadOWed half the floor. A
quivering mountain ash that grew with
out cheekered the lozenge- shaped lat
tce-panes with the shadow of its tremb
ling LEAVES, forever, as it were. plead
ing for admittanos while the chill au
tumn wind, toying with some loos,
rubbish in the grim old chimney corner
seemed to stir up kind of false, drearl
life within its hollow.
This, however, was ali. There wal
no mysterious family portrait with pur
suing eye upon the wall no stern sui
of hollow armor in the room no des
perate, bloody single combat on the
faded arras.
"I have been befers aud since, il
many Roman palace or ancient Flor
entine dwelling-house, chambers of
far more striking aspect, which brough
before one more wildly the charaSte
and traditions OF the romantic ages, anC
were more fitting scenes for dark do
mestic tragedies and hidden family his
tory but never, no, never, have [ be
held any human habitation havin,
about it precisely what this one had
J The first glance at it sent an ice lik
chill through all my veins. The yer,
remembrance of it does SO still.
This, then, said the old retainer
lifting, as he spoke, the somber curtain
of the bed this will be your bed to
night, and it is perhaps better. after all
to lie here than at the mercy of tn
thieves and the winds by the riverside.
And having arrived at this conclusion
he added, more cheerfully, Nov, then
. I aIr ~ vT~il1 81,
with me, and share my bit of sausag
and my fire, you are welcome t,
BOTH
, ST gladly accepted the offer, and W
returned accordingly to his humble cell
Transformed by comparison into a per
feet snugery. We supped together b,
his little fragrant pine-wOod fire; ",
drank to the health of the Baron an,
his fair daughters IN a flask of his owl
good Rhenish; but it failed to max
, my heart merry. Ny spirits had beel
I L 1