Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1912-07-26
WALLENSTEIN'S GHOST.

Not far from the town of Gitschin, in
beautiful Bohemia" there rises. on a
declivity surrounded in every direction
by groves and clumps of trees broad
spreading building, the regular archi-
lecture and massive antique walls of
which at once proclaim that it was
erected ages ago. and for no ordinary
purpose. The solemn silence which
reigns around-a silence broken only by
the melancholy signing of the wind
through the oaks and frs, is well
adapted to bring the soul into unison
with the scene. This building is the
Walditzer Carthusian convent, built by
the great Wallenstein of Frieland, and
held his remains until it was suppressed,
together with many other religious insti-
tutions, by Joseph the Second
1t was on a pleasant autumnal morn
ing in the year 1640 when a troop of
horsemen were seen approaching the
convent. The distant view of the
stately building quickened their pace, for
they hoped a hospitable reception from
the monks, which should recompense
them for their forced marches and many
privations which they had of late un-
dergone. In vain, however, did their
leader, on approaching, seek for the
faintest trace of human being or any
indication that the house was held by
friend or foe.
But the stamping of the horses feet
upon the plank-laid entrance at last
attracted the only dweller whom the
house contained. This was an old
white bearded man, who cheerfully babe
them welcome
Hey, there, old fellow" cried many
voices as he appeared" up with the
breakfast! Bring us wine, and all Of
the best! No hunger or thirst, you
know, In a cloister!"
we come from affair." gentlemen, and
know not that your comrades have long
since emptied both larder and cellar.
growing in the courtyard, but Burgundy
and Rhine wine flow not back again as
readily as they run away"
stop your foolery!" cried one of the
soldiers, angriy. Were used to such
speeches and don't believe them Bring
your keys and do as you're bid"
mo keys are needed" exclaimed the
old man sadly. Bolts and bars have
long since been borne away, and but
few of our doors hold their hinges. Ye
are far from the first who have search
ed in vain"
The soldiers had in the meantime dis
mounted, and were just disposed to
make an excellent breakfast, when thus
disconnected by the speech Of the guard
hope of a can of wine, and these of all
soldiers were the most unlikely to be
satisfied with the words of an old man.
Here, thou old rogue!" exclaimed one
whose general appearance, however, in
dicated better disposition and a great
er degree of respectability than were pos
sessed by his companions. Drive no
untimely jests with us, but show us
where the cellar lies. Wen spare thee
the trouble of drawing the wine-only
bring candles and cans"
The old man obeyed, and shortly APP
peared with a lantern. The party went
with him. The cool subterranean air
blew pleasantly in their faces, for It re-
minded them of ancient vintages stored
away In cool places. At last they could
see, half hidden in the darkness, the
round brown sides OF the immense old
fashioned casks.
Hurry on. comrades. they are waiting
for relief Quick with the cans" cried
younger soldier.
Tap them first" replied the old man
quietly.
At least 20 sets of fingers, well ac-
customed to broaching plundered casks
OF conventual wine, were speedily busted
with boring the slaves; but no wine
poured forth. and the sides raped as
last question. gave back a mournful.
hollow ring. which spoke as plainly as