The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1875-03-03

turn things were taking, lifted his cap and
treated me to a smile. l must add that
these excellent people, once the ice bros
ken, tried in every way to compensate nae,
by thousand eager attentions, for the ex>
cessiye caution of their reception. They
wished to give up to me their own room,
adorned with the Adventures of Telema>
chus, but / preferred-as Mentor would
have done-a cell of austere nudity. of
which the window, with small, lozenge,
shaped panes, opens on the ruined portal
of the church and the horizon of the for
est. o.. o. l.f... .-.f ?. els.. -..-.-..i
Had been few years younger, would
have enjoyed keenly this poetic installa-
ton; but am turning gray, friend Paul,
or at least / fear so, though l nm trying
still to attribute to a mere effect of light
the doubtful shades that dot my beard
under the rays of the MONDAY sum- New
ertheless, ifmy reverie has changed its OBJ
ject, it still lasts, and still has its charms
for me. Ny poetic feeling has become
modified and, / think, more elevated. -
The image of woman is no longer the
indispensable element of my dreams; my
heart, peaceful now, and striving to become
more so, is gradually Withdrawing from
the field of my minds labors. cannot,
/ confess, find enough pleasure in the pure
| and dry medtations of the intellect; my
imagination must speak first and set my
brain in motion, for | was born romantic,
and romantic shall die; and all that can
be asked of me, all | can obtain OF myself,
at an age when propriety already COM
mands gravity, is to build romances with
out love.
Up to this time, ennui has spared me in
my solitude. Shall confess to you that
l even experience in it singular feeling
of contentment? 1t seems as though |
were a thousand leagues away from the
things of the world, and that there is a
sort of truce and respite in the miserable
routine of my existence, at once so agitated
and so commonplace. | relish my CON-
plete independence with the naive joy oil
twelve-year-old Robinson Cruseo.
sketch when feel like it; the rest of the
| time / walk here and there at random, be-
ing careful only never to go beyond the
bounds of the sacred valley. | cit down
upon the parapet of the bridge, and
watch the running water; go on voyages
of discovery among the ruins; | dive into
the underground vaults; scale the shat
tered steps of the belfry, and being unable
to come down again the same way, re-
main astride gargoyle, cutting a rather
sorry figure, until the miller brings me a
ladder 1 wander at night through the
forest, and l see deer running by in the
moonlight. All these things have sooth.
ing influence on my mind, and produce the
effect of a child's dream in middle age.
Your letter dated from Cologne, and
which was forwarded to me here accord
ing to my instructions, has alone disturb.
ed my beatitude. l console myself with
some difficulty for having left Paris almost
on the eve Of your return. May Heaven
confound your whims and your want OF de-
cisionl All can do now is to hurry my
work; but where shall / find the historical
documents still need? am exceeding
ly anxious to save these ruins. There il
here a rare landscape, valuable picture
which it would be sheer vandalism to al
low to perishs =
And then l admire the old monksl
wish to offer up to their departed shade:
this homage of my sympathy. Yes, haC
lived some thousand years ago, would
certainly have sought among them the re-
pose Of the cloister while waiting for the
peace of heaven. What existence couC
have suited me better? Free from thu
cares of this world, and assured of the
other free from any agitations of the hear
or the mind, would have placidly writ
ten simple legends which would hay,
been credulous enough to believe; woulC
have unravelledi with intense curiosity
some unknown manuscripts, and discover
ed with tears of joy the Illiad or the Eneid
| would have sketched imaginary cathe
drals; would have heated alembics-anC
perhaps have invented gunpowder; which
is by no means the best thing l nigh
have done.
Come! It's midnight; brother, we mus
sleepl
| PoStScriptam:-There are ghostsl I wa
closing this letter, my dear friend, in tn
midst of solemn silence, when suddenl,
my ears were filled with mysterious an,
confueed sounds that seemed to come from
the outside, and among which | though
| could distinguish the buzzing murmu
of large crowd. approached, quite sur
prised, the window OF my cell. and l coul
not exactly tell you the nature of tn
emotion | felt on discovering the ruins G
the church illuminated with resplend
ent blaze; the vast portal and the yawnin
ogives cast floods of light as far as tn
distant woods. 1t was not, it could nc
be, an accidental conhagration. Beside:
/ could see, through the stone trefoil;
shadows of superhuman size fitting thrC
the nave, apparently performing. with
sort of rhythm. some mysterious ceremo
ny. thre1 my window abruptly oper
at the same instant, loud blast brok
: forth in the ruins, and rang again throug
all the echoes Of the valley; after which
: saw issuing from the church double fl
, of horsemen bearing torches and BLOWN
, horns, some dressed in red, others drape
l in black, with plumes waving over thel
heads. This strange procession followed
: still in the same order, amid the sam
dazzling light and the same clangor {
? trumpets, the shaded path that skirts tn
! edge of the meadows. Having reache
the little bridge, it stopped; | saw tn
i torches rise, wave, and cast showers {
: sparks; the horns sounded a weird an
4 prolonged blast; then suddenly every ligt
; disappeared, every noise ceased, and Ii
valley was again wrapped in the darknes
I and the deep silence of the night, Ths
f is what saw and heard. You who ha,
: just arrived from Germany, did. you me-
e the Black Huntsman2 MOI Hangyo
J; self, then!
8 II.
10TH SEPTEMBER
: The forest which once formed part
-