The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1879-12-03
THE PROUD LADY OF THE CASTLE.
FROM HARPER's WEEKLY.

Last of the mighty race of Windeck,
famed for brave men and lovely women,
was Adelheid. heiress of the castle and
broad lands that had been owned by her
ancestors, and, so far as beauty went,
she was worthy of her lineage, but of a
proud and naughty temper. So proud
was she that among all the mobiles of
Brisgan she could find none whom she
thought worthy to call her lord and
year after year passed on, finding her
still unwedded, and every year some I'M
fortunate lover or other turned from
the castle gates with looks of scorn and
words of ridicule.
Among those whom she should, after
her fashion, first attach to her by every
art and afterward repealed with bitter
derision, was young man of noble fam
iIy, but slender fortune, who had long
been in her service as page or squire, as
the fashion of those days demanded.
After years of patient waiting and
hope, the youth ventured to declare
himself, and was received by the lady
with a storm of sarcasms that literally
overwhelmed him. Stung to the heart
by her hard speeches, and by the sense
of his own folly and presumption, which
suddenly poured in upon him ike a
flood, he left his mistress presence only
to write a word of farewell to his
mother, whose son he was, and whom
he tenderly loved, then threw himself
into the Rhine.
A few days afterward. a woman, mad
dened with rage and sorrow, widow
ho1 1a'S
death, ght the Lady Adelheid in her
castle on the hill, accused her of being
the murderess of her boy, and heaped
upon her head the bitterest curses that
her outraged mother-heart could devise
or her woman's tongue utter.
''Unloved YOU shall live" she cried,
land unregretted die. Even in the
grave you shall find no peace; even
there my revenge shall follow you, and
send you forth to wander, a restless,
miserable ghost-restless foreverl"
"Ah !" cried Lady Adelheid, with
white face and scared eyes, all her
haughtiness flown, edo not utter
such terrible words Have you no
mercy ?"
The wretched mother smiled grimIy.
eyes, / have mercy" she said. "Thus
shall your spirit wander through these
very halls until you find a lover as
true, as honest, as pure-hearted as my
poor lost son, willing to WOO the phan-
tom for his bride. Then only shall you
rest in peace"
Under this curse, says the legend the
Lady of Windeck lived and died. She
was the last of her race, and not many
years after her death the castle, unin-
habited and deserted, fell into ruins
Its new owners had indeed, made many
attempts to inhabit it, but had been alb
solutely driven out of the place by the
unearthly sounds which disturbed the
stiffness of night, and which scarcely
allowed living soul in the building so
much as to close an eye from midnight
to cock-crow. Doors would open and
shut mysteriously, footsteps resound
through the silent corridors, lights,
illumined by no visible hand, suddenly
burn in the windows, while over every
mirror in the house the shadowy form
black hair hanging below her shoulders,
would be seen-would pass disappear
ing in one place only to appear the next
moment in another.
1t happened, however, that one day
young hunter of noble family, a
stranger guest in one the neighboring
castles, was led, in the excitement of
the chase, up to the very gate of the
deserted mansion. The deer which he
was pursuing rushed by him into the
very ruins, as though it were taking
sanctuary. The young man, by name
Kurt Won Stein, had heard some curious
legends as connected with a ruined
castle on the height, and possibly, half
from curiosity and half because he was
hot and tired with a day of specially
poor sport, he dismounted and led his
horse, tired like himself, through the
brambles and brushes that had over
grown the ruined gateway, into the
grass-grown courtyard.
ga curious place, to be sure" said
the young man, seating himself for a
moments rest on a fallen mass of
brick-work OVERLAND with soft moss, and
letting his horse meantime Craze at his
will from the rank growth of the
courtyard. "a very curious place
Looks as if no one had been here for
hundred years. | wonder whether this
can be the haunted castle my uncle was
speaking about the other night IF
So" he added, 81 wish to goodness
the spiritually would have the hospital
ity to welcome me to her domains, and
offer me a drink of something this
hot day. And as he took off his hunt
ing cap to air his heated brow, his
thoughts reverted lovingly to q certain
glass tankard in his uncle's house,
which when filed with yellow Stras-
bourg beer, was about as pleasant a
sight to Kurt Won Stein as the world
could offer.
After 3 while the idea occurred to
the young man that as chance had
brought him to the castle, he might as
well pay his respects to the owner Of it,
whether she were phantom or not.
A turret stair, broken and worn, was
close at hand to the spot which he had
chosen for q resting-place. Twilight
was beginning to fall as he reached the
castle; now, suddenly, darkness SEEM
ed to have come, and as he mounted
the winding turret stairs he noticed
that lights were already showing
through many of the windows of what
appeared to be ! less ruinous part Of
the building than that by which he had
entered.
That il al right, said Kurt to him
~ 4 ~