Year: 1868

met him, several times while taking her
morning walk upon the parapet. the in
terest ripened into love, and they silently
betrothed themselves to each other and
we're happy. So things stood, when one
evening, Sir John invited Marcel to take
supper with them. The meal was spread
within the left wing of the castle, in a
lofty hall. the walls of which we're decor
ated with ancient suits of arms while the
panels between we're all hung with we'll
dressed head and horns of a sturdy deer.
At one end of the hall, set deep within
the wall, was capacious fireplace. we'll
filled with oaken logs, which, as the nights
were chilly. Sir John bad ordered the SER
wants to light. and it now threw cheer
full light upon the table and its surround
ings.


At bountiful spread board were Sir
John, Marcel and the Lady Isadore; the
supper was over and the wine circulated
very freely around. Ladies were not so
charry of its use in those days. And the
old knight. made merry by the copious
draughts of Rhenish he bad used to wash
down his food, cracked his jokes, sang
and laughed as only an old man and a
soldier can laugh. At last. perceiving
that the fire, which ere now was burning
cheerfully, had nearly disappeared. he
asked Marcel to rouse it up, he, willing
to oblige arose, but finding nothing where
with to rake the ashes, he drew his sword
and with it coaxed the stubborn fire to
blaze.
At that moment he heard his name call
ed in tones of thunder by Sir John; for
getting that he had been called, leaving
his sword still in the fire, be advanced to-
wards Sir John. There he stood, clutch
ing his daughter tightly by the arm. his
face distorted by passion.


"Sirrah!' he cried, as Marcel approach
ed, "dost thou love my daughter?''
Marcel did not reply, but looked at
j Eaay Isaadore- She alasi poor girl l-Aas-
ing never seen him in merry mood be-
fore-while Marcel was engaged in ar
ranging the fre-she told her father of
his love for her, and asked him to give
his consent to their marriage. The re-
suit being as was mentioned above


"Sirrah!" shouted the greatly enraged
Lord, "canst thou not speak7 Answer
me; dost thou love my daughter?''
The young man boldly confronting him.
replied:


Sir, l love your daughter-we are
betrothed.


All the fury that ever entered in the
soul of man was combined within Sir
Johns soul. He felt at his belt for his
dagger he usually wore; be had lain it a.
side when about sitting down to supper !;
be looked around for some weapon with
which to kill Marcel; his gaze rested on
Marceps sword, which rested in the fire,
the blade of which was nearly a red hue
in another moment it was in bis hands !;
in his blind fury he thought not of its
heat, but rushed upon Marcel and was a.
bout to plunge it nto'his body, when Isa
dore threw herself upon her lover and re-
ceived the fiery blade in her now pure
breast. Sir John gazed but for one mo-
ment on the scene before him, and then,
with the blood gushing from his mouth
and nostrils, fell to the floor.


When the retainers entered about an
hour after, they found father and daugh-
ter dead and Marcel a gibbering maniac
The servants removed him to safe asy-
lum, where he shortly after died. The
bodies of the father and daughter were
buried among their ancestors in the cha
pei, and masses were said for the repose
Of their souls; but yet they did not rest;
for often at night they are seen, the
daughter pursuing the father and making
the most hideous lamentations. Such is
the legend of Ehlenburg. Ifyou 60 there
now you will find remaining of that once
lofty pile but the old gray ruins.