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Ipttrg.
The Knight's Leap at Altenahr.
"So the foeman has fired the gate, men of mine,
And the water is spent and done;
Then bring me a cup of the red Ahr•winc;
never shall drink but this one.
"And fetch me my harness, and saddle my horse,
An lead him me round to the door;
JI e must take such a leap to-night perforce
As horse never took before.
"1 have lived by the saddle for years a score,
And if I must die on tree,
The old saddle tree, which has borne me of yore,
Is the properest timber for me.
have lived my life, I have fought my fight,
I have drnnlc my share of wine;
From Trier to Coln there was never a Knight
Lived a merrier life than mine.
.So now to show bishop and burgher and priest
How the Altenahr hawk can die.
If they smoke the old falcon out of his nest,
Ile most take talcs to his wings and fly."
lie harnest himself by the clear moonshine,
And he mounted his horse at the door,
And he took such a pull at the red Ahr•wine
As man never took before.
lie spurred the old horse, and he held him tight,
And he leapt him out over the wall;
Out over the cliff, out into the night,
Three hundred feet of full.
;lazy found him nest morning, below in the glen,
4nenever xi bone in him whole:
put hcp,vest may yet have more mercy than mcn
On such a bold rider's soul.
gthttitrito.
Legend of the Fatal Ring
A GERMAN STORY.
We were three friends—Ferdinand W—,
a celebrated lawyer; Auerbach, the court
physieitn;. and myself.
Having no particular calling, I spent most
of my time in reading the various publica
tions that issued from the German press.—
I became of the opinion that thero was
hardly one that made an effort to raise the
public taste. With the intention of fulfil
ling, in a more effectual manner, the duties
required of a journal, my friends and I es
tablished a periodical. Whether we ever
realized our fond hopes, is not for me to
say. Ferdinand was to contribute the
learned leaves; Auerbach the elegant; and
I, who could.not boast of either learning or
elegance, to attend to the minor depart-
Wats,
We had our meetings as our more ad-
vanced• cotemporaries. - As soon as my
companions had finished their professional
sivdelitiOns— * ono is distracting the minds of
his 'clifints, while the other' performed the
same charitable function to their bodies—
they usually met at my house; and with
our tobacco pipes, and over our glass of
good Rhenish wine, we made our criticisms.
One evening, when Ferdinand was more
than usually late, and had wearied our pa
tience waiting, we resolved to commence
proceedings without , him. The two newest
publications lay on the table —Preidenker,
a favorite German periodical, and llfochent-
Zeitung, then" in its zenith. With the
uncut leaves, of these before us, we bad no
time to loose. I seized Die Trochentliehe
Zeitung. The first few pages contained an
unfescusble review of a story in the -Frei
&nicer. m 1164440 "Gray Zoom." I read it
wide ; pleasure, as this subjeot WI been
the cause more than one dispute between
ine and my friend Auerbach; and I now
hoped. with • this, allTiAoahake his firm-root
ed • belief in the -appearance of spirits. I
conanienced with the remark. "That of all
the piriodiooli , ,1 had , the greatest respect
for the .Fl4telir and could not imagine
how they lad given their.pages to such in
areditiluatories as the 'Gray Room.' I was
carious to sea how they, answered the ob
jections, to my mind most reasonably urged
against them, by 'the Wockentliche
"How will they answer them?" cried Au
erbach. "With -Centeinptuous silence sus
they deserre."
eau see him now, Withhis head resting
on •the back of-his obtain-44s pipe in his
hand; his hair throarn . beck, and his deep
leiing eyes looking Biedly before hini,,as
if be was then holding communion with the
invisible. "Bat," said I, •who can believe
the nonsense . that is put forward in that
paper about • the appearance of Gertrude!"
"Only account, then, - for all that is rela
ted," said my friend eagerly. "-Either the
fedi have taken place, or the author is
guilty of falsehood; and I think even you
would be slow to acknowledge that Gual
fredo would relate a thing. for a fact that
had not occurred. Believe me, you cannot
know, and have not the opportunity of
knowing what we medical men learn, Com
ing in contact as we do with the caprices
of nature. What she can or cannot do, is
not for us to say."
"I never met with any one," said I, "who
had himself seen a spirit; and though, as
you say, I have every confidence in Gual
fredo, still he does not say, that Gertrude
ever appeared to him. It seems from the
whole tenor of the story, to have been re
lated to him; neither does he pledge him
self for its veracity, except in the negative
way of repeating the story. Now, be hon
est," I continued; "have you ever spoken,
face to face, with any one who saw a spirit?"
Ile remained silent for a time; and at
last, having taken a turn up and down the
room, and drawn a whiff from his pipe, and
a sip from his glass, he turned full upon
me, and said, "I have sen a spirit. Mind, I
don't pass for a Csisterseher; but I have in
deed seen a spirit once—a time never to be
forgotten, for it made a change in me that I
have never recovered. And, strange enough
the room with which it was connected was
called the 'black chamber.'"
31 30
Much as I had vaunted my disbelief of
ghost stories, I confess that as we were then
sitting in the dim twilight in that still sum
mer evening, with the shadows lengthening
through the deep recesses of the window,
my companion's enthusiastic nature quite
carried me with him; and with rapt atten
tion, and an undefined feeling of pleasure,
mingled with fear, I proposed to hear the
horrors of the "black chamber," which I
now relate in his own words: -
I had concluded my university education,
and to finish my studies in medicine, be
came, for some years, the in-door pupil of
the famous Dr. IV—, who at that time
enjoyed the most extensive practice in Blen
heim. My progress in my profession was
so great, that in a few years my old master
made over a number of his remote country
patients to my care, his advanced ago ren
dering it impossible for him to take long
journeys. One evening I was hastily sum
moned to the the country residence of the
Count Albrecht Von Silberstein, who had
lately returned from Italy, with his second
wife a beautiful young heiress, whom he
had just married; his first; it was said, had
died at Milan, only a few months before the
second marriage. It was, however, to at
tend the Count's sister that I was sum
moned; she was dying of nervous fever. I
could render but little assistance, as I saw
she was beyond earthly help; but I ordered
some sedatives, and left written directions,
to be followed till my return next day. I
was preparing to take leave, when the Count
rushed in, and begged of me, as I valued
his friendship, not to leave the house that
night. lie was devotedly attached to his
sister; and, as I had no particular engage
ment, I consented to remain. The Lady
Von Silberstein gave orders to have a room
prepared for me, and begged me- to take
rest while my patient slept, as she knew the
Count would require my attendance the mo
ment the Lady Theresa awoke. Saying
this, she -wished me good night, and left the
[Fraser's Magazine
room
When left alone I could not help reflect
ing on that gloomy castle, with its dark
heavy towers, frowning, as if in anger with
its inmates. It had u.ot even a cheerful
prospect, situated as it was, in a barren flat
country, more like the stronghold of a tribe
of banditti than what one would expect to
see as the dwelling of a nobleman. The
interior was not one whit more inviting or
cheerful. The room I was in was fearfully
sombre; it was a long narrow chamber, on
ly half-lighted by the small loop-hole win
dows; the furniture and drapery old and
faded.
What could have induced the Countess to
marry that man? thought I—she so young
and lovely, he so dark and gloomy. I also
noticed;. daring the short time I saw them
together, a shadow passed over her, when
ever her husband .addressed her, indicitive
more of fear or dislike than love. In the
midst of my reflections I was interrupted
by the servant, announcing that my apart
ment was 7 ready. Conducted to it I found
it even more dismal than the one I had just
left. It was spacious; the old-fashioned
heavy doors were of mastiveoakf the tables
were covered with dark cloth; the - hangings
and curtains were black as ebony, as also
all the wood-work in:the room. I lighted
two pair of candles to chase the gloom; bat
it was like the mere illumination of a
vault, the'nerrOw circles of radiance only
making.the darkness more visible.
•
I sat down at a small table near the lire,
and placed my candles upon it_to.impart an
air of comfort to my black palace—but even
that] failed. I had at once to
write the, particulars of. the case I was at
tending,
nod get to bed. I must mention
that one
. particularity of, tr. W—'s was,
'that, each of hie pupils should give him in
writing, a
. most'cirmisnetancial account of
9;ery.ease they, Wedded; to accomplish this
new, and .myself to sleep, Festal my
desire.
I had just linished my medical technicali
ties, whoa, I was called, to attend Lady The
resa; she had. awakened much worse, and
the Count sent to beg that I would go to
her without delay. I dressed, and hastened
after my attendant. We arrived, through
"NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASIIEE A 9 LASTING!!
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY. MORNING, MARCH 12, 1859.
various winding passages, at the chamber of
the young lady. Never shall I forget the
scene that here presented itself:
No one could doubt the Count's affection
for his sister; yet now he seemed to be per
fectly unconscious of her bodily sufferings,
and only stood near her bed to listen with
eagerness to the words she occasionally ut
tered. She herself, wretched creature, was
sitting upright, staring as if her eyes would
start from their sockets. I approached her;
she turned from cue; sheltering herself be
side her brother, and pointing wildly at me,
she whispered:
"Did he see it? Did he hear it cry? Did
he see the ring?"
I sought to calm her, having often seen
people affected by visions in similar cir
cumstances, but there was no quieting her.
She sprang from her bed, and clung to her
brother, still uttering incoherent sentences,
till at length she cried out:
"I feel its little arms: there—there—it is
clinging to me to save it. I cannot bear
the glare of its eye. I cannot—l dare not
touch it. That fatal ring!"
Then, exhausted, she fell senseless on the
floor. I called the Count to assist me in
replacing her in bed; but when I looked
round he was leaning against the wall,
pale and motionless.
I rang the bell violently. As footsteps
approached, he started. "For Heaven's
sake," cried he, "let not mortal enter
here!"
"I must have assistance," I said
"I can do anything you require," replied
he, making an effort that I saw cost him a
great deal. But his will seemed, neverthe
less, so strong, that, when he walked to the
door and gave some orders, to account for
tho bell having been rung, I looked in as
tonishment. Turning to me ho said: "Doc
tor, it is so strange and fearful to hear the
ravings of delirium. How invariably they
lead the poor sufferer to imagine scenes they
never witnessed. A medical man of great
eminence told me that this was always the
case."
After a short interval, Lady Theresa re
vived; but no longer in her former state of
excitemeot. She lay quiet, with her eyes
closed. I tried to smooth her pillow, and
bathed her hands. On a sudden she looked
up, with a bright smile, and said softly,
two or three times, "Rudolph!" then wan
daring among scenes afar off, gently fell
asleep, and from that passed into the sleep
from which there is no awaking.
I turned to the Count and said: "Lady
Theresa is dead."
"Dead!" ho cried: "dead! she cannot,
she must not die, and leave me. I had but
her in the world; she would not leave mo
alone."
"It is no use," said I, drawing him from
the body.
Subbing like a child, he caught her beau
tiful tresses, in a vain attempt to sever a
lock; but his trembling fingers refused
their affice, and again eink:ng beside her
lifeless body, her fair hair covering him as
a vail, he lay motionless. Much as I dis
liked the Count, this outburst of genuine
feeling completely overcame me, and with
tears I looked at the heart-broken man, all
his hardness and repulsiveness quite for
gotten. He seemed as if clinging to the
fair angel whose spirit had fled.
Bfter some little time he recovered him.
self, and rose to leave toe room. I was
only too glad to follow. I felt sick at heart.
The wretched death-bed I had - witnessed,
and the feeling of dislike I bad felt to the
Count, combined to make me long for a
quiet hour in my own room.
We descended to the saloon; the Count
making an apology that he had letters to
write, left me. I hastened back to my own
chamber, but not to sleep. I piled wood en
the fire, and sat down in a large chair oppo
site to it, recalling minutely every word that
Lady Theresa had uttered. I could think of
nothing else—what could have befallen that
young girl? That she was implicated in
some dark deed, there could be no doubt;
the awful visions that haunted her were not
the raving fancies of delirium. Her brother
—he, too, shared her secret. I had a dim
recollection of a tale that I had heard when
a child, of some heavy curse which hung
over the Count's house. One of his ances
tors had treated his wife with cruelty, and
she on her death-bed left their wedding-ring,
with a bitter cores attached to it, but what
could that poor girl have to do with a child
and a ring? It !was all mystery, and the
incoherent story furnished little solution to
the problem. I thought again and again of
all that I had ever heard about Lady The
resa; but that was not muoh. She was very
young, and had latterly not appeared abroad
in the ' world. Some said her engagement
to an officer had been suddenly broken off;
others thatahe bad become ascetic, Be this
as it may, she certainly shunned all society,
even her sister's; her only companion was
her brother.
I tried to turn ray thoughts to other chan
nels, but to no purpose. I felt a great wish
to see her again, and yielding to thetempta
tion, crept back to her room and gazed once
more on those features which had made so
deep an impression - Upon me. All was
hushed; everything had been arranged.
Morning bad dawned, and the gray light
streamed thruogh the open casement. I
tamed to look on the beautiful creature be
fore me. There she lay in the stillness of
death; a 'mils seemed to rest on ber features.
It may be that the recoUsotion of some
happy hour of childhood, had. -visited her
wearied spirit before it went forth on its
solitary journey. I felt I was polluting a
sanctuary by harboring for a moment the ,
thought that she could be implicated in any
crime, and, pressing a kiss on her cold
cheek, I took away one of her bright curls.
The next day lady Theresa was buried.
The Count asked me to stay that night,
which I gladly did, as I was worn out. with
my vigil of the night before. Just as I
went about to consign myself to rest, I was
interrupted by the jager, who knocked at
my door to inquire if I had any commands.
He was a lively, pleasant fellow, and in
clined to be communicative. We sat talking
for awhile. When be rose to leave the
room, he looked around with a shudder,
and asked, "If I felt lonely, or would wish
him to remain all night."
I smiled at the idea, for he seemed. really
afraid: and although I did not think the
place cheerful, yet I had no fear. I was as
skeptical then as you are now. My talka
tive companion related many stories con
nected with the chamber, to which I eagerly
listened, in hopes I might find a clue to
Lady Theresa's ravings, but all were con
nected with events that had occurred years
before. However inclined I might have
been to have kept this young man with me,
I now determined to place no obstacle to
my spending a night in the haunted cham
ber. The very idea gave me a thrill of
pleasure. I left no portion of my apart
ment unsearched. so that I could not by
possibility be played upon. I secured the
door and wind )ws, and having made all my
arrangements with the view of practically
overthrowing the theory of apparition•, I
went to bed, and much sooner than I ex
pected fell asleep.
After some time I was aroused by hear
ing a sound like the dropping of a heavy
weight, as it fell step by step. I could not
account for the noise, fur it seemed to pro
ceed from the other side of the wall, and
which I knew was an outside wall, and
there was neither room nor stairs beyond.
I looked around, but all was dark. Think
ing I must have been mistaken, I settled to
sleep again, when the sound was repeated
even more distinctly than before. I began
now, indeed, to feel nervous, and sat up.
A slight wind, like a breath, passed over
me, but still I saw nothing. I strained my
eyes as though I could penetrate the dark
ness. The sound hadjgreatly increased, yet
I was conscious there was something, be it
mortal or spirit, in the room with me. After
watching with a beating heart, I argued
myself into the idea that the noise must
have been at the other side of the inside
wall, and that it was occasioned by some of
the servants, who had perhaps been up
late, and so, turning on my side, tried again
to compose myself. I had not been settled
many minutes. however, when I perceived
a faint light, coming from the same direc
tion in which I had heard the sound. I
leoked up, when, to my horror, I saw a tall
female figure advancing steadily towards
me. She had long bright hair, falling over
her shoulders, and her drapery was pure as
snow. She stood still in the centre of the
room, gazing about her. I was paralyzed
with terror; I held my breath, dreading to
make the least movement, lest I should at
tract her attention; but I could not for one
moment withdraw my eyes from the figure.
At last it perceived me, for it hastily advan
ced towards me, and extending its long icy
arm, seized my hand!
I fell back insensible. How long I re
mained in this state I don't know; but I
awoke before it was light, I sprang from
my bed, lighted a candle, and looked every
where to see had my supernatural visitor
left any trace behind, but I could find no
clue to the mystery. I thought I must have
had a frightful dream, till my eye fell on a
ring upon my finger that I had never seen
before. What could this mean? Who
could that mysterious being have been? I
tried to recall the features. They seemed
familiar to me. I had seen them previously,
but when or where? Yes—yes—l remem
ber they were none other than those of the
Lady Theresa. Now it was, too, that I
recollected distinctly the same beautiful
hair. The eyes, thought wild, still had the
same loving, melancholy expression—that
look that none but she could have! Could
her troubled spirit have cane to reveal to
me the secret of her dying agony? Per
haps it was to ask me to bear a message.
Oh! that I had been able to question her!
flow I cursed nay trembling timidity that
had prevented me from speaking to heel
In this excited state of mind I sat down,
Listening intensely in fear of hearing
at
footsteps. I took off the ring to look at the
gift of the dead, when ohl horror more ter
rible than words can express-.too 'terrible
even for imagination—l saw engmed upon
it the heraldic bearings of Count Yon qa
bersteio's
The Legend of the Fatal Bing burst, is
it were, upon my mind; the whole thing
seemed only too clear. It had been the
Lady Theresa, but not come for sympathy
—no. She had removed the fatal curse
hanging over her brother's house—that
brother she had loved so dearly—and I was
Selected out of the whole world to carry
the dreadful weight with me to the grave.
I clasped my hand over my eyes, for it
seemed to be written in blazing characters
round the vmUs that I was wedded to a
dead bride! I felt as if voices of thunder
were shrieking the fearful secret into my
ears. r flung myself on the
,floor,
.howling
in the madness of despair, and calling down
fearful imprecations on the bead of the
being whom a moment before I almost
revered as an angel of light. At length
nature exhausted itself, and I fell into a
deep sleep, from which I did not awake till
the bright beams of the sun showed me
that the morning was far advanced. I
looked round in surprise at finding myself
stretched on the ground, though an inde
scribable weight pressed me down. I could
not at first recollect what had occurred. By
degrees the truth flashed across me. I
sprang on my feet, examined the door to
learn whether any one Lad entered the
room and seen my delirious frenzy. All
was as I left it—doors and windows barred
fast. My secret was my own. No mortal
knew .what had happened,, and no one
should ever know.
I dressed myself with scrupulous care,
arranged the furniture so that no trace was
left of my impotent fury; and the ring—
the hateful ring—should I fling it out of
the window, or bury it deep in the earth?
No, I dare not part with it; throw it where
I would, send it to the most distant part
of the world, it would still come back to
me, and perhaps in a way _that would ex
pose me to the whole world. I knew its
power; it fixed itself on its possessor. Had
I not but now seen the truth of this? for
years, it may be for centuries, it had clung
to Count 'Von Silberstein's name, and now
by her means; I dare not mention her name,
fulfilling the prediction, -it would cling,
fasten, eat into my very life; and for how
long? There was no second removal, no
hope, no dawning of morning in that black
forever.
I seized the ring and hid it in my bosom.
Why should I indulge the feeling? It was
a childish fancy. I would never think of
it again. I ought to marry; I had no
worldly cares, and my mind was liable; to
be infected with strange delusions. In this
way I argued to myself, knowing, ayl feel
ing, from the bottom of .I;ey heart, bound
body and soul to a spirit. I hastened to
the saloon—none of the family had made
their appearance. Again I was alone; the
solitude I had fled from above pursued me
here. I examined the pictures, which I
had seen many times before; wondered who
they represented; had they a secret to hide? I
were - they pursued - by - a - spectre, "to whom
they belonged without hope of release?
Again, at that terrible thought, I turned
from them, and reckoned the panes of glass
in each window. Did she, the Countess,
who left that fearful legacy, over stand here
where I was standing? Perhaps it was in
this spot that thought first presented itself
to her mind.
I looked at the breakfast table; it was
laid for four—the Cuunt, his wife abd my
self. Who could the fourth be? The
Countess' sister? Ah, here was a chancel
I would marry her! I walked to the mir
rors, and thought I was good enough look
ing. I was in. good practice, and very
highly educated; many a girl would be only
too glad to have me; but I had not money
enough. In the midst of these reflections
a pretty young WOIXIOR, with a child, passed
the window just opposite to me; they stop
ped, and she gathered flowers and played
with the little boy. 1 watched her for some
time. Ohl that I knew who she was—that
I could get acquainted with her. She
seemed an upper servant; what matter, I
would marry her;, yes, she should be my I
wife. I would love and protect her. She
was poor, I would make her rich—l would
make her a lady. She would never refuse
me; and once married, I should be safe,
and could defy the spirit. Without a mo
ment's hesitation I hurried along the
corridor and down the terrace. A turn in
the path suddenly brought me before the
girl. I knelt at her feet, caught her dress.
told her I adored her, would live but for
her, would guard her as a tender flower, if
she would but unite her fate to mine. The
poor creature thought I was mad; she
screamed, caught the child in her arms and
ran into the castle. I saw what I had done;
she would give the alarm; they would all
consider me insane; I should be shunned
by every one, and left alone with saydread
ful secret.
Fearful of meeting any one, I left the
terrace and hurried down the steps into
the thicket. I saw servants out looking
for me, and the young woman I had been
speaking to pointing to them the direction
I must have taken. I lay hid under a bush,
not moving a limb lest they should see me;
and when they had returned, I left my re
treat and ran, almost flew, home. Those I
met on the way looked at me with a vague
glance that might have been sympathy.
My first thought was to secrete the ring; this
accomplished, I lay down and longed, olg
how earnestly for deathl From that hour
I was ill three months of the very nun
disease that Lady Theresa had died of.
When I left my sick-bed I was another
creature; Ino longer strove to shut out the
hateful truth from myself, but humbly sub
..mittedto my fate.
"Now, what do you say to this? for I can
testify on oath all I have stated."
"I cannot but allow it is most strange,"
said I; "and had you not assured me you
had examined every part of your room so
easefully, I should have had some doubts."
"As I stated:" replied Auerbach, "de
ception hers was impossible. I was as wide
awake as you are now. And, beside', the
- SI,SO.PER• ' - L • $2 oa o ' -
fatal ring; what else could that mean?"
And he relapsed into a state of abstraction.
"Well," said I, more with the idea of
rousing him than for any real obstacle it
presented to my mind, "the ring is the
stumbling block to me. If the appearance
is not a deception, it must have been a spirit;
but I cannot a spirit having anything to do
with the fading things of this world. It
leaves all that behind."
Ile interrupted me:
"You first deny the existence of Spirits;
then you must define the exact way they
ought to appear. Such inconsistency! But
perhaps you will not be so skeptical if I
show you the ring. I have never worn it
since that fatal night, now years gone by;
but something urges me to look at it to-night.
Who knows but it may be a warning that I
ern soon to join my spirit-bride?"
Saying this he took -from his breast a cu
rious looking box, and handed it to me to
open.
I can hardly describe ,the sensation with
which I raised the lid, and took out a very
old-fashioned ring, with strange characters
engraved on it; and, true enough, the her
aldic bearings of the Count Albrecht Von
Silberstein's family. I felt a nervous, creep
ing sensation; the perspiration hung in
drops on my forehead. As to Auerbach, he
seemed read to fall.
Just then I heard a footstep; trembling,
I let the ring fall on the floor, and ran to
assist Auerbach, who had fainted, crying
out:
"I come--I some."
Immediately I heard evoice exclaiming:
"Where in the world. are you? What is
the matter?"
To my infinite relief, I recognized Ferdi
nand's voice, and calling him to my aid, we
got poor Auerbach to bed, where, after ad
ministering some remedies, we succeeded in
restoring consciousness.
When I related to Ferdinand what had
passed, he started convulsively.
"I have been," he broke forth, "kept at
court all day, on account of that identical
Black Chamber."
I urged him to relate kis story, and he
began:
"You both know Fritag," said he.—
"Count Yon Silberstein lately invited him
ito a large ball at the Castle of Silberstein.
The night proved a tempestuous one; thun
der and lightning, and torrents of rain; so
they pressed Fritag to remain. He said he
would willingly, save that he had an ap
pointsnent early the next morning in town.
The Count said that he also had an early
engagement, and that they could go together
Under these circumstances, Fritag was very
glad to re remain beneath so good a shelter.
The next morning, it seems, the jager
knocked at his door to tell him the Count
was waiting; but, receiving no answer, eon
eluded he had left the castle. So the Count
departed without him. When the party as
sampled at breakfast, one of the domestics
announced to the Countess that Herr Fritag
had not gone with the Count. Sho imme
diately sent to let him know they were wait. ,
ing breakfast; but there was no answer.—
After a delay of a. couple of hours they
broke open the door, when they found poor
Fritag insensible, lying across the bed.—
They thought at first he was dead; but, per
ceiving be still breathed, they used the usual
remedies, and he soon showed signs of re.-
turning consciousness. They then entreated
him to say what had happened, when lie
stated that the night before he noticed the
gloomy appearance of the room to his at
tendant, who said it had hardly been used
since the late Countess' death. It was the
room that she and the Count had occupied,
and since her demise it had the reputation
of being haunted.
"Fritag was not afraid of spirits, and set
tled himself for the night without any ap
prehension. He hod been in bed about a
couple of hours, when he was awakened by
a noise proceeding from the further extrem
ity of the room; he sat up. and was terrified
by seeing a tall female clad in white, with
glaring eyes, and bright golden hair hang
ing over her shoulders. Stalking up to the
bed, she silently beckoned to him, cud he
mechanically rose and followed her through
a long narrow passage, when she turned
aside into a room, quite brightened by the
moonlight streaming through the window,
but so covered with dust that it seemed as
if no mortal had been in it for years. She
raised the lid of a cheat, and with a wild
scream, held towards him the skeleton of a
child. At this moment he descried all
changing and becoming black as pitch.—
The next thing he was conscious of, was the
buzz of voices round hie bed.
"All the listeners to this mysterious story
were struck with amazement. The old
housekeeper said the room was frequented
by a spirit, and so said all the credulous.
The skeptical portions of the household tried
to persuade Fritag that ha must hare bad a
bad Ocala.
"The Countess, a woman of strong mind,
insisted on sanding for the 'magistrate, and
having a thorough inspection of the zoom.
Accordingly a carriage was dispatched for
that functionary without delay. hims some
time before be arrived, as the distance from
the castle to his residence is about ten miles.
The Countess resolved not to leave the room
for one moment till he came.
"Herr Sating was only too glad to under
tote the commission of investigation. He
bad often pressed the Count to allow him to
inspect the apartment, and so put a stop to
[WHOLE NUMBER, 1,492.
the reports circulated about its being 'haunt
ed; but somehow the Count always con
trived to put it off. His absence now pre
vented any further obstacle, and without
delay Herr Siang, accompanied by the
Countess and Fritag, searched every part of
the room, but without any result. It was
all in vain that they shifted the bed, took
down the curtains, changed the position of
the furniture—there was no trace. Friteg
showed the exact place of the spirit's en
trance and exit. The wall was next sound
ed—it was solid masonry. There was not
a panel that could slide up or down. The
Countess declared that there was no !manage
connecting that room with any other in the
tower. Still Fritag persisted in his story;
and the magistrate said he would not leave
the place till he could account satisfactorily
for it.
"Accordingly he ordered a ladder, and
mounting it, passed his hand carefully over
the wall, if by chance he might discover a
hidden spring. After about an hour spent
in this way, he exclaimed suddenly, 'I hare
it! I have it!' and by pressing hard with his
finger, he moved a heavy door sliding into
the wall, so as not to be perceptible outside.
This led to a flight of steps also made in the
wall; then another spring door opened into
a set of rooms in the tower, that belorged
to a super-annnated nurse of the family who
lived in these apartments. The room into
which Fritag had been led the night before
was to the left of this narrow passage, be
fore coming to the steps. Into this the ma
gistrate went. It was as Fritag described,
covered thick with dust; but they perceived
the trace of a naked foot. Following this
foot-print they came to the window-sill, but
no chest was visible. After examining all
around, the Countess suggested that the
window-sill itself might be raised; but there
neither seemed binge nor lock. However,
the planks were lifted, and, awful to relate,
the skeleton was found there.
"Herr Saltag would not allow the Coun
tess to proceed any further; and giving the
body of the child to one of his attendants, be
proceeded with Fritag. They descended
the steps, and going to the door, which was
easily opened, there they saw the identical
white figure crouched in a corner, her beau
tiful golden hair hanging disheveled over
her; and the witch-like nurse, with the arm,
raised about to strike her wretched victim:.
Fritag caught the woman's arm before it
fell, when, to his utter consternation, he be
held in the ghastly misery of madness, the
Count's first wife."
This fearful tragedy is soon elucidated.
Count Von Silberstein and his wife, a
beautiful but portionless girl, whom he bad
married, were traveling abroad, when they
met with Mademoiselle Clara Dugue, the
daughter and only child of a wealthy mer
chant.
The Countess was near her confinement,
and the Count saw, if he could only get her
out of the way, he might easily obtain the
hand and fortune of Mademoiselle Clara.—
The fiendish thought no sooner presented
itself to his mind than he hastened to put it
in execution. He traveled back in disguise
to his Castle of Silberstein, near Blenheim.
carrying his wife with him; but causing It
to be reported in Rome that they bad gone
to Milan. Shortly after the birth of his
child, he himself strangled the new-born
babe in the mother's presence. The eight
of her murdered infant deprived the poor
Countess of reason. He then placed her
under the care of the old hag with whom
she was found, thinking, perhaps, she was
as safe there as in her grave; and by this
means tried to quiet his conscience by not
having deprived her of life. The only being
to whom ho confided his secret was his sis
ter, but she was in no way partaker of the
deed, not having heard of it till after his
second marriage. The weight ofthis dread
ful secret broke her heart.
Count Von Silberstein bastenened back
after this foul deed to Rome, and then,
caused it to be circulated that his wife and
child were dead. A few months after he
sought from Monsieur Dogue the had of his
fair daughter. The ambitions old met'-
chant was dazzled by a glittering coronet,
and forced his reluctant child to marry the
Count. The pose maniac had always oc
cupied the "Bleak Chamber." The first
night I have introduced her as making her
appearance theri, her nurse had gone to a
feast in the lower stories, and thinking she
had left her charge asleep, ventured down
the private passage I have described. the
existence of which was only known to her
self. The wretched creature missing her
guardian, and seeing the door open, hasten
ed down the stops; pushing the other door
back, she instantly recognized her own
room; and, thinking she saw her husband
in bed, in the frenzy of the moment put the
fated ring on his finger, and then returned,
before she was detected, into her own apart
ment. The next time she was not so fortu
nate. The second visit was when her nurse
was engaged in a similar manner as before,
and she gave, ea she thought, to her hus
band his murdered child. It was just then
the woman discovered her, and bore hex
away.
My poor friend Auerbach', health im
proved only for a short time; the solution of
the mystery came too late. The shock
_his
constitution had received from that strange
visitant, and the indissoluble contract by
which he bad supposed himself to be bound
to a supernatural being, were too mush far
his strength, whicb gradually guy. ray,
and in less than s year be died.