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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64c0675 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66106 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66106) diff --git a/old/66106-0.txt b/old/66106-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4895d04..0000000 --- a/old/66106-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8775 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Tales of the Wild and the Wonderful [1867], -by Mary Diana Dods, et al - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Tales of the Wild and the Wonderful [1867] - - -Author: Mary Diana Dods - - - -Release Date: August 22, 2021 [eBook #66106] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE WILD AND THE -WONDERFUL [1867]*** - - -Transcribed from the 1867 Milner and Sowerby edition by David Price. -Many thanks to the Bodleian Library for making their copy available. - - [Picture: Graphical title page] - - - - - - TALES - OF THE - WILD AND THE WONDERFUL. - - - * * * * * - - “Messer, dovete havete pigliate tante coglionerie?” quoth the Reader. - - CARDINAL IPPOLITO D’ESTE TO ARIOSTO. - - * * * * * - - LONDON: - MILNER AND SOWERBY, - 44, PATERNOSTER ROW, - AND HALIFAX, YORKSHIRE. - - * * * * * - - 1867. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -PAUSE one moment, gentle Reader—only one little moment will I detain you, -while I reply to the question which I have supposed you to ask in the -title-page. Blame not me, I beseech you, if you are compelled to make -the usual accusation against authors, that there is nothing new in the -pages which I diffidently present to you: I am sorry for it, but I cannot -help it. Solomon asserted that all things under the sun were aged in his -time; and if the wisest of old gentlemen could find nothing new in that -early stage of his empire, what can be expected from a poor scribbler -like me, near three thousand years after him? Consider too, dear Reader, -that this is the first time I have appeared before you in the character -of a story-teller; and that I am a timid, nervous subject, and very -easily discouraged. Accept me then upon the score of wishing to amuse -you, and permit me to say something for my Tales, after having said so -much for myself. - -Of the stories, “Der Freischütz,” as every body knows, is from the -German. “The Fortunes of De la Pole” is original; so is “The -Prediction,” and “The Yellow Dwarf,” if I may be allowed that claim for -such a “thing of shreds and patches;” it is an _olla podrida_ of odds and -ends, a snip of the garment of every fairy tale written since the days of -King Arthur. The story of “The Lord of the Maelstrom” is also original, -though, as in that of “The Yellow Dwarf,” I have raised my structure upon -an old nursery foundation; but it appeared to me an excellent vehicle for -the beautiful mythology of the North, and the introduction of Odin and -his exploits,—whose history, by the way, I believe, has been extracted -from the Talmud, or from the rabbinical traditions of the events previous -to the creation, and the deeds of Moses and others. I, moreover, -designed to have given thee a little poetry for thy money, gentle Reader, -but the booksellers shook their heads when I mentioned my design, and -told me it was out of fashion; so I returned my treasures in that way to -my desk, there to remain, among many other excellent things, I assure -thee, until it should again be the taste in England; and, with two other -short stories, in the meantime offer these Tales of _diablerie_ for your -amusement. Entreat me kindly, gentle Reader, I beseech you, for two -reasons;—first, because it will entirely depend upon your reception of -this, whether I shall ever write a second volume—and secondly, because -there has been a sad sweep lately among those who used to cater for your -diversion: many who were most deserving have been snatched from your -admiration and regard. “Shelley is not—Lord Byron is not—and Maturin -have they taken away.” For myself, I am not a long-lived man, and -therefore advise you to make much of me while I am with you; and as an -example, look upon these “_coglionerie_” with a milder eye than their -merits may seem to deserve from your judgment. - - I am, dear Reader, truly yours, - - THE AUTHOR. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - PAGE -THE PREDICTION 9 -THE YELLOW DWARF 44 -DER FREISCHUTZ 101 -THE FORTUNES OF DE LA POLE 130 -THE LORD OF THE MAELSTROM 179 -NOTES TO THE LORD OF THE MAELSTROM 264 -THE SPECTRE BARBER 267 -THE SLEEPING FRIAR; OR THE STONE OF FATHER CUDDY 311 - - - - -THE PREDICTION. - - - “Let’s talk of Graves.”—SHAKSPEARE. - -ON the south-west coast of the principality of Wales stands a romantic -little village, inhabited chiefly by the poorer class of people, -consisting of small farmers and oyster dredgers, whose estates are the -wide ocean, and whose ploughs are the small craft, in which they glide -over its interminable fields in search of the treasures which they wring -from its bosom; it is built on the very top of a hill, commanding on the -one side an immense bay, and on the other, of the peaceful green fields -and valleys, cultivated by the greater part of its quiet inhabitants. -The approach to it from the nearest town was by a road, which branched -away into lanes and wooded walks, and from the sea by a beautiful little -bay, running up far into the land; both sides of which and indeed all the -rest of the coast were guarded by craggy and gigantic rocks, some of them -hollowing into caverns, into which none of the inhabitants, from motives -of superstition, reverence, and fear, had ever dared to penetrate. There -were, at the period of which we are about to treat, no better sort of -inhabitants in the little village just described, none of those so -emphatically distinguished as “quality” by the country people; they had -neither parson, lawyer, nor doctor, among them, and of course there was a -tolerable equality among the residents. The farmer, who followed his own -plough in the spring, singing the sweet wild national chaunt of the -season, and bound up with his own hands his sheaves in autumn, was not -richer, greater, nor finer, than he who, bare-legged on the strand, -gathered in the hoar weeds for the farmer in the spring, or dared the -wild winds of autumn and the wrath of the winter in his little boat, to -earn with his dredging net a yet harder subsistence for his family. -Distinctions were unknown in the village, every man was the equal of his -neighbour. - -But, though rank and its polished distinctions were strange in the -village of N—, the superiority of talent was felt and acknowledged almost -without a pause or a murmur. There was one who was as a king amongst -them, by the mere force of a mightier spirit than those with whom he -sojourned had been accustomed to feel among them: he was a dark and moody -man, a stranger, evidently of a higher order than those around him, who -had a few months before settled among them: he was poor, but had no -occupation—he lived frugally, but quite alone—and his sole occupation was -to read during the day, and wander out unaccompanied into the fields or -by the beach during the night. Sometimes indeed he would relieve a -suffering child or rheumatic old man by medicinal herbs, reprove idleness -and drunkenness in the youth, and predict to all the good and evil -consequences of their conduct; and his success in some cases, his -foresight in others, and his wisdom in all, won for him a high reputation -among the cottagers, to which his taciturn habits contributed not a -little, for, with the vulgar as with the educated, no talker was ever -seriously taken for a conjuror, though a silent man is often decided to -be a wise one. - -There was but one person in N— at all disposed to rebel against the -despotic sovereignty which Rhys Meredith was silently establishing over -the quiet village, and that was precisely the person most likely to -effect a revolution; she was a beautiful maiden, the glory and boast of -the village, who had been the favourite of, and to a certain degree -educated by, the late lady of the lord of the manor; but she had died, -and her pupil, with a full consciousness of her intellectual superiority, -had returned to her native village, where she determined to have an -empire of her own, which no rival should dispute: she laughed at the -maidens who listened to the predictions of Rhys, and she refused her -smiles to the youths who consulted him upon their affairs and their -prospects; and as the beautiful Ruth was generally beloved, the silent -Rhys was soon in danger of being abandoned by all, save doting men and -paralytic women, and feeling himself an outcast in the village of N—. - -But to be such was not the object of Meredith; he was an idle man, and -the gifts of the villagers contributed to spare him from exertion; he -knew too, that in another point of view his ascendancy was necessary to -his purposes; and as he had failed to establish it by wisdom and -benevolence, he determined to try the effect of fear. The character of -the people with whom he sojourned was admirably calculated to assist his -projects; his predictions were now uttered more clearly, and his threats -denounced in sterner tones and stronger and plainer words; and when he -predicted that old Morgan Williams, who had been stricken with the palsy, -would die at the turn of tide, three days from that on which he spoke, -and that the light little boat of gay Griffy Morris, which sailed from -the bay in a bright winter’s morning, should never again make the shore; -and the man died, and the storm arose, even as he had said; men’s hearts -died within them, and they bowed down before his words, as if he had been -their general fate and the individual destiny of each. - -Ruth’s rosy lip grew pale for a moment as she heard of these things; in -the next her spirit returned, and “I will make him tell my fortune,” she -said, as she went with a party of laughers to search out and deride the -conjuror. He was alone when they broke in upon him, and their mockeries -goaded his spirit; but his anger was deep, not loud; and while burning -with wrath, he yet could calmly consider the means of vengeance: he knew -the master spirit with which he had to contend; it was no ordinary mind, -and would have smiled at ordinary terrors. To have threatened her with -sickness, misfortune, or death, would have been to call forth the -energies of that lofty spirit, and prepare it to endure, and it would -have gloried in manifesting its powers of endurance; he must humble it -therefore by debasement; he must ruin its confidence in itself; and to -this end he resolved to threaten her with crime. His resolution was -taken and effected; his credit was at stake; he must daunt his enemy, or -surrender to her power: he foretold sorrows and joys to the listening -throng, not according to his passion, but his judgment, and he drew a -blush upon the cheek of one, by revealing a secret which Ruth herself, -and another, alone knew, and which prepared the former to doubt of her -own judgment, as it related to this extraordinary man. - -Ruth was the last who approached to hear the secret of her destiny. The -wizard paused as he looked upon her,—opened his book,—shut -it,—paused,—and again looked sadly and fearfully upon her; she tried to -smile, but felt startled, she knew not why; the bright inquiring glance -of her dark eye could not change her enemy. Her smile could not melt, -nor even temper, the hardness of his deep-seated malice: he again looked -sternly upon her brow, and then coldly wrung out the slow soul-withering -words, “Maiden, thou art doomed to be a murderer!” - -From that hour Rhys Meredith became the destiny of Ruth Tudor. At first -she spurned at his prediction, and alternately cursed and laughed at him -for the malice of his falsehood: but when she found that none laughed -with her, that men looked upon her with suspicious eyes, women shrunk -from her society, and children shrieked at her presence, she felt that -these were signs of truth, and her high spirit no longer struggled -against the conviction; a change came over her mind when she had known -how horrid it was to be alone. Abhorring the prophet, she yet clung to -his footsteps, and while she sat by his side, felt as if he alone could -avert that evil destiny which he alone had foreseen. With him only was -she seen to smile; elsewhere, sad, silent, stern; it seemed as if she -were ever occupied in nerving her mind for that which she had to do, and -her beauty, already of the majestic cast, grew absolutely awful, as her -perfect features assumed an expression which might have belonged to the -angel of vengeance or death. - -But there were moments when her naturally strong spirit, not yet wholly -subdued, struggled against her conviction, and endeavoured to find modes -of averting her fate: it was in one of these, perhaps, that she gave her -hand to a wooer, from a distant part of the country, a sailor, who either -had not heard, or did not regard the prediction of Rhys, upon condition -that he should remove her far from her native village to the home of his -family and friends, for she sometimes felt as if the decree which had -gone forth against her, could not be fulfilled except upon the spot where -she had heard it, and that her heart would be lighter if men’s eyes would -again look upon her in kindliness, and she no longer sate beneath the -glare of those that knew so well the secret of her soul. Thus thinking, -she quitted N— with her husband; and the tormentor, who had poisoned her -repose, soon after her departure, left the village as secretly and as -suddenly as he had entered it. - -But, though Ruth could depart from his corporeal presence, and look upon -his cruel visage no more, yet the eye of her soul was fixed upon his -shadow, and his airy form, the creation of her sorrow, still sat by her -side; the blight that he had breathed upon her peace had withered her -heart, and it was in vain that she sought to forget or banish the -recollection from her brain. Men and women smiled upon her as before in -the days of her joy, the friends of her husband welcomed her to their -bosoms, but they could give no peace to her heart: she shrunk from their -friendship, she shivered equally at their neglect, she dreaded any cause -that might lead to that which, it had been said, she must do; nightly she -sat alone and thought, she dwelt upon the characters of those around her, -and shuddered that in some she saw violence and selfishness enough to -cause injury, which she might be supposed to resent to blood. Then she -wept bitter tears and thought of her native village, whose inhabitants -were so mild, and whose previous knowledge of her hapless destiny might -induce them to avoid all that might hasten its completion, and sighed to -think she had ever left it in the mistaken hope of finding peace -elsewhere. Again, her sick fancy would ponder upon the modes of murder, -and wonder how her victim would fall. Against the use of actual violence -she had disabled herself; she had never struck a blow, her small hand -would suffer injury in the attempt; she understood not the usage of -fire-arms, she was ignorant of what were poisons, and a knife she never -allowed herself, even for the most necessary purposes: how then could she -slay? At times she took comfort from thoughts like these, and at others, -in the blackness of her despair, she would cry, “If it must be, O let it -come, and these miserable anticipations cease; then I shall, at least, -destroy but one; now, in my incertitude, I am the murderer of many!” - -Her husband went forth and returned upon the voyages which made up the -avocation and felicity of his life, without noticing the deep-rooted -sorrow of his wife: he was a common man, and of a common mind; his eye -had not seen the awful beauty of her whom he had chosen; his spirit had -not felt her power; and, if he had marked, he would not have understood -her grief; so she ministered to him as a duty. She was a silent and -obedient wife, but she saw him come home without joy, and witnessed his -departure without regret; he neither added to nor diminished her sorrow: -but destiny had one solitary blessing in store for the victim of its -decrees,—a child was born to the hapless Ruth, a lovely little girl soon -slept upon her bosom, and, coming as it did, the one lone and lovely -rose-bud in her desolate garden, she welcomed it with a warmer joy and -cherished it with a kindlier hope. - -A few years went by unsoiled by the wretchedness which had marked the -preceding; the joy of the mother softened the anguish of the condemned, -and sometimes when she looked upon her daughter she ceased to despair: -but destiny had not forgotten her claim, and soon her hand pressed -heavily upon her victim; the giant ocean rolled over the body of her -husband, poverty visited the cottage of the widow, and famine’s gaunt -figure was visible in the distance. Oppression came with these, for -arrears of rent were demanded, and he who asked was brutal in his anger -and harsh in his language to the sufferers. Ruth shuddered as she heard -him speak, and trembled for him and for herself; the unforgotten prophecy -arose in her mind, and she preferred even witnesses to his brutality and -her degradation, rather than encounter his anger and her own dark -thoughts alone. - -Thus goaded, she saw but one thing that could save her, she fled from her -persecutors to the home of her youth, and, leading her little Rachel by -the hand, threw herself into the arms of her kin: they received her with -distant kindness, and assured her that she should not want; in this they -kept their promise, but it was all they did for Ruth and her daughter; a -miserable subsistence was given to them, and that was embittered by -distrust, and the knowledge that it was yielded unwillingly. - -Among the villagers, although she was no longer shunned as formerly, her -story was not forgotten; if it had been, her terrific beauty, the awful -flashing of her eyes, her large black curls hanging like thunder-clouds -over her stern and stately brow and marble throat, her majestic stature, -and solemn movements, would have recalled it to their recollections. She -was a marked being, and all believed (though each would have pitied her -had they not been afraid) that her evil destiny was not to be averted; -she looked like one fated to some wonderful deed. They saw she was not -one of them, and though they did not directly avoid her, yet they never -threw themselves into her way, and thus the hapless Ruth had ample -leisure to contemplate and grieve over her fate. One night she sat alone -in her wretched hovel, and, with many bitter ruminations, was watching -the happy sleep of her child, who slumbered tranquilly on their only bed: -midnight had long passed, yet Ruth was not disposed to rest; she trimmed -her dull light, and said mentally, “Were I not poor, such a temptation -might not assail me, riches would procure me deference; but poverty, or -the wrongs it brings, may drive me to this evil; were I above want it -would be less likely to be. O, my child, for thy sake would I avoid this -doom more than for mine own, for if it should bring death to me, what -will it not hurl on thee?—infamy, agony, scorn.” - -She wept aloud as she spoke, and scarcely seemed to notice the -singularity (at that late hour) of some one without, attempting to open -the door; she heard, but the circumstance made little impression; she -knew that as yet her doom was unfulfilled, and that, therefore, no danger -could reach her; she was no coward at any time, but now despair had made -her brave; the door opened and a stranger entered, without either -alarming or disturbing her, and it was not till he had stood face to face -with Ruth, and discovered his features to be those of Rhys Meredith, that -she sprung up from her seat and gazed wildly and earnestly upon him. - -Meredith gave her no time to question; “Ruth Tudor,” said he, “behold the -cruelest of thy foes comes sueing to thy pity and mercy; I have -embittered thy existence, and doomed thee to a terrible lot; what first -was dictated by vengeance and malice became truth as I uttered it, for -what I spoke I believed. Yet, take comfort, some of my predictions have -failed, and why may not this be false? In my own fate I have ever been -deceived, perhaps I may be equally so in thine; in the mean time have -pity upon him who was thy enemy, but who, when his vengeance was uttered, -instantly became thy friend. I was poor, and thy scorn might have robbed -me of subsistence in danger, and thy contempt might have given me up. -Beggared by many disastrous events, hunted by creditors, I fled from my -wife and son because I could no longer bear to contemplate their -suffering; I sought fortune all ways since we parted, and always has she -eluded my grasp till last night, when she rather tempted than smiled upon -me. At an idle fair I met the steward of this estate drunk and stupid, -but loaded with gold; he travelled towards home alone; I could not, did -not wrestle with the fiend that possessed me, but hastened to overtake -him in his lonely ride.—Start not! no hair of his head was harmed by me; -of his gold I robbed him, but not of his life, had I been the greater -villain, I should now be in less danger, since he saw and marked my -person: three hundred pounds is the meed of my daring, and I must keep it -now or die. Ruth, thou too art poor and forsaken, but thou art faithful -and kind, and will not betray me to justice; save me, and I will not -enjoy my riches alone; thou knowest all the caves in the rocks, those -hideous hiding-places, where no foot, save thine, has dared to tread; -conceal me in these till the pursuit be past, and I will give thee one -half my wealth, and return with the other to gladden my wife and son.” - -The hand of Ruth was already opened, and in imagination she grasped the -wealth he promised; oppression and poverty had somewhat clouded the -nobleness but not the fierceness of her spirit. She saw that riches -would save her from wrath, perhaps from blood, and, as the means to -escape so mighty an evil, she was not scrupulous respecting a lesser: -independently of this, she felt a great interest in the safety of Rhys; -her own fate seemed to hang upon his; she hid the ruffian in the caves -and supplied him with light and food. - -There was a happiness now in the heart of Ruth—a joy in her thoughts as -she sat all the long day upon the deserted settle of her wretched -fireside, to which they had for many years been strangers. Many times -during the past years of her sorrow she had thought of Rhys, and longed -to look upon his face and sit beneath his shadow, as one whose presence -could preserve her from the evil fate which he himself had predicted. -She had long since forgiven him his prophecy; she believed he had spoken -the truth, and this gave her a wild confidence in his power; a confidence -that sometimes thought, “if he can foreknow, can he not also avert?” She -said mentally, without any reference to the temporal good he had promised -her, “I have a treasure in those caves; _he_ is there; he who hath -foreseen and may oppose my destiny; he hath shadowed my days with sorrow, -and forbidden me, like ordinary beings, to hope: yet he is now in my -power; his life is in my hands; he says so, yet I believe him not, for I -cannot betray him if I would; were I to lead the officers of justice to -the spot where he lies crouching, he would be invisible to their sight or -to mine; or I should become speechless ere I could say, ‘Behold him.’ -No, he cannot die by me!” - -And she thought she would deserve his confidence, and support him in his -suffering; she had concealed him in a deep dark cave, hewn far in the -rock, to which she alone knew the entrance from the beach; there was -another (if a huge aperture in the top of the rock might be so called), -which, far from attempting to descend, the peasants and seekers for the -culprit had scarcely dared to look into, so perpendicular, dark, and -uncertain was the hideous descent into what justly appeared to them a -bottomless abyss; they passed over his head in their search through the -fields above, and before the mouth of his den upon the beach below, yet -they left him in safety, though in incertitude and fear. - -It was less wonderful, the suspicionless conduct of the villagers towards -Ruth, than the calm prudence with which she conducted all the details -relating to her secret; her poverty was well known, yet she daily -procured a double portion of food, which was won by double labour; she -toiled in the fields for the meed of oaten cake and potatoes, or she -dashed out in a crazy boat on the wide ocean to win with the dredgers the -spoils of the oyster beds that lie on its bosom; the daintier fare was -for the unhappy guest, and daily did she wander among the rocks, when the -tides were retiring, for the shell-fish which they had flung among the -fissures in their retreat, which she bore, exhausted with fatigue, to her -home—and which her lovely child, now rising into womanhood, prepared for -the luxurious meal; it was wonderful too, the settled prudence of the -little maiden, who spoke nothing of the food which was borne from their -frugal board; if she suspected the secret of her mother, she respected it -too much to allow others to discover that she did so. - -Many sad hours did Ruth pass in the robber’s cave; and many times, by -conversing with him upon the subject of her destiny, did she seek to -alleviate the pangs its recollection gave her; but the result of such -discussions were by no means favourable to her hopes; Rhys had -acknowledged that his threat had originated in malice, and that he -intended to alarm and subdue, but not to the extent that he had effected: -“I knew well,” said he, “that disgrace alone would operate upon you as I -wished, for I foresaw you would glory in the thought of nobly sustained -misfortune; I meant to degrade you with the lowest; I meant to attribute -to you what I now painfully experience to be the vilest of the vices; I -intended to tell you, you were destined to be a thief, but I could not -utter the words I had arranged and I was struck with horror at those I -heard involuntarily proceeding from my lips; I would have recalled them -but I could not; I would have said, ‘Maiden, I did but jest,’ but there -was something that seemed to withhold my speech and press upon my soul, -‘so as thou hast said shall this thing be’—yet take comfort, my own -fortunes have ever deceived me, and doubtlessly ever will, for I feel as -if I should one day return to this cave and make it my final home.” - -He spoke solemnly and wept,—but the awful eye of his companion was -unmoved as she looked on in wonder and contempt at his grief. “Thou -knowest not how to endure,” said she to him, “and as soon as night shall -again fall upon our mountains, I will lead thee forth on thy escape; the -danger of pursuit is now past; at midnight be ready for thy journey, -leave the cave, and ascend the rocks by the path I shewed thee, to the -field in which its mouth is situated; wait me there a few moments, and I -will bring thee a fleet horse, ready saddled for the journey, for which -thy gold must pay, since I must declare to the owner that I have sold it -at a distance, and for more than its rated value.” - -That midnight came, and Meredith waited with trembling anxiety for the -haughty step of Ruth; at length he saw her, she had ascended the rock, -and standing on its verge, was looking around for her guest; as she was -thus alone in the clear moonlight, standing between rock and sky, and -scarcely seemed to touch the earth, her dark locks and loose garments -scattered by the wind, she looked like some giant spirit of the olden -time, preparing to ascend into the mighty black cloud which singly hung -from the empyreum, and upon which she already appeared to recline; -Meredith beheld her and shuddered,—but she approached and he recovered -his recollection. - -“You must be speedy in your movements,” said she, “when you leave me; -your horse waits on the other side of this field, and I would have you -hasten lest his neighings should betray your purpose. But, before you -depart, Rhys Meredith, there is an account to be settled between us: I -have dared danger and privations for you; that the temptations of the -poor may not assail me, give me my reward and go.” - -Rhys pressed his leathern bag to his bosom, but answered nothing to the -speech of Ruth: he seemed to be studying some evasion, for he looked upon -the ground, and there was trouble in the working of his lip. At length -he said cautiously, “I have it not with me: I buried it, lest it should -betray me, in a field some miles distant; thither will I go, dig it up, -and send it to thee from B—, which is, as thou knowest, my first -destination.” - -Ruth gave him one glance of her awful eye when he had spoken; she had -detected his meanness, and smiled at his incapacity to deceive. “What -dost thou press to thy bosom so earnestly?” she demanded; “surely thou -art not the wise man I deemed thee, thus to defraud _my_ claim: the -friend alone thou mightest cheat, and safely; but I have been made -wretched by thee, guilty by thee, and thy life is in my power; I could, -as thou knowest, easily raise the village, and win half thy wealth by -giving thee up to justice; but I prefer reward from thy wisdom and -gratitude; give, therefore, and be gone.” - -But Rhys knew too well the value of the metal of sin to yield one half of -it to Ruth; he tried many miserable shifts and lies, and at last, baffled -by the calm penetration of his antagonist, boldly avowed his intention of -keeping all the spoil he had won with so much hazard. Ruth looked at him -with scorn: “Keep thy gold,” she said, “if it thus can harden hearts, I -covet not its possession; but there is one thing thou must do, and that -ere thou stir one foot. I have supported thee with hard-earned industry, -_that_ I give thee; more proud, it should seem, in bestowing than I could -be, from such as thee, in receiving: but the horse that is to bear thee -hence to-night I borrowed for a distant journey; I must return with it, -or with its value; open thy bag, pay me for that, and go.” - -But Rhys seemed afraid to open his bag in the presence of her he had -wronged. Ruth understood his fears; but, scorning vindication of _her_ -principles, contented herself with entreating him to be honest. “Be more -just to thyself and me,” she persisted: “the debt of gratitude I pardon -thee; but, I beseech thee, leave me not to encounter the consequence of -having stolen from my friend the animal which is his only means of -subsistence: I pray thee, Rhys, not to condemn me to scorn.” - -It was to no avail that Ruth humbled herself to entreaties; Meredith -answered not, and while she was yet speaking, cast side-long looks -towards the gate where the horse was waiting for his service, and seemed -meditating, whether he should not dart from Ruth, and escape her -entreaties and demands by dint of speed. Her stern eye detected his -purpose; and, indignant at his baseness, and ashamed of her own -degradation, she sprung suddenly towards him, made a desperate clutch at -the leathern bag, and tore it from the grasp of the deceiver. Meredith -made an attempt to recover it, and a fierce struggle ensued, which drove -them both back towards the yawning mouth of the cave from which he had -just ascended to the world. On its very verge, on its very extreme edge, -the demon who had so long ruled his spirit now instigated him to -mischief, and abandoned him to his natural brutality: he struck the -unhappy Ruth a revengeful and tremendous blow. At that moment a horrible -thought glanced like lightning through her soul; he was to her no longer -what he had been; he was a robber, ruffian, liar; one whom to destroy was -justice, and perhaps it was he—. “Villain!” she cried, “thou—thou didst -predict that I was doomed to be a murderer! art thou—art thou destined to -be the victim?” She flung him from her with terrific force, as she stood -close to the abyss, and the next instant heard him dash against its -sides, as he was whirled headlong into darkness. - -It was an awful feeling, the next that passed over the soul of Ruth -Tudor, as she stood alone in the pale sorrowful-looking moonlight, -endeavouring to remember what had chanced. She gazed on the purse, on -the chasm, wiped the drops of agony from her heated brow, and then, with -a sudden pang of recollection, rushed down to the cavern. The light was -still burning, as Rhys had left it, and served to shew her the wretch -extended helplessly beneath the chasm. Though his body was crushed, his -bones splintered, and his blood was on the cavern’s sides, he was yet -living, and raised his head to look upon her, as she darkened the narrow -entrance in her passage: he glared upon her with the visage of a demon, -and spoke like a fiend in pain. “Me hast thou murdered!” he said, “but I -shall be avenged in all thy life to come. Deem not that thy doom is -fulfilled, that the deed to which thou art fated is done: in my dying -hour I know, I feel what is to come upon thee; thou art yet again to do a -deed of blood!” “Liar!” shrieked the infuriated victim. “Thou art yet -doomed to be a murderer!” “Liar!” “Thou art—and of—thine only child!” -She rushed to him, but he was dead. - -Ruth Tudor stood for a moment by the corpse, blind, stupefied, deaf, and -dumb; in the next she laughed aloud, till the cavern rung with her -ghastly mirth, and many voices mingled with and answered it; but the -noises scared and displeased her, and in an instant she became stupidly -grave; she threw back her dark locks with an air of offended dignity, and -walked forth majestically from the cave. She took the horse by his rein, -and led him back to his stable: with the same unvarying calmness she -entered her cottage, and listened to the quiet breathings of her sleeping -child; she longed to approach her nearer, but some new and horrid fear -restrained her, and held back her anxious step: suddenly remembrance and -reason returned, and she uttered a shriek so full of agony, so loud and -shrill, that her daughter sprung from her bed, and threw herself into her -arms. - -It was in vain that the gentle Rachel supplicated her mother to find rest -in sleep. “Not here,” she muttered, “it must not be here; the deep cave -and the hard rock, these shall be my resting place; and the bed-fellow, -lo! now, he waits my coming.” Then she would cry aloud, clasp her Rachel -to her beating heart, and as suddenly, in horror thrust her from it. - -The next midnight beheld Ruth Tudor in the cave seated upon a point of -rock, at the head of the corpse, her chin resting upon her hands, gazing -earnestly upon the distorted face. Decay had already begun its work; and -Ruth sat there watching the progress of mortality, as if she intended -that her stern eye should quicken and facilitate its operation. The next -night also beheld her there, but the current of her thoughts had changed, -and the dismal interval which had passed appeared to be forgotten. She -stood with her basket of food: “Wilt thou not eat?” she demanded; “arise, -strengthen thee for thy journey; eat, eat, thou sleeper; wilt thou never -awaken? look, here is the meat thou lovest;” and as she raised his head, -and put the food to his lips, the frail remnant of mortality shattered at -her touch, and again she knew that he was dead. - -It was evident to all that a shadow and a change was over the senses of -Ruth; till this period she had been only wretched, but now madness was -mingled with her grief. It was in no instance more apparent than in her -conduct towards her beloved child: indulgent to all her wishes, -ministering to all her wants with a liberal hand, till men wondered from -whence she derived the means of indulgence, she yet seized every -opportunity to send her from her presence. The gentle-hearted Rachel -wept at her conduct, yet did not complain, for she believed it the effect -of the disease, that had for so many years been preying upon her soul. -Her nights were passed in roaming abroad, her days in the solitude of her -hut; and even this became painful, when the step of her child broke upon -it. At length she signified that a relative of her husband had died and -left her wealth, and that it should enable her to dispose of herself as -she had long wished; so leaving Rachel with her relatives in N—, she -retired to a hut upon a lonely heath, where she was less wretched, -because abandoned to her wretchedness. - -In many of her ravings she had frequently spoken darkly of her crime, and -her nightly visits to the cave; and more frequently still she addressed -some unseen thing, which she asserted was for ever at her side. But few -heard these horrors, and those who did, called to mind the early -prophecy, and deemed them the workings of insanity in a fierce and -imaginative mind. So thought also the beloved Rachel, who hastened daily -to embrace her mother, but not now alone as formerly; a youth of the -village was her companion and protector, one who had offered her worth -and love, and whose gentle offers were not rejected. Ruth, with a -hurried gladness, gave her consent, and a blessing to her child; and it -was remarked that she received her daughter more kindly, and detained her -longer at the cottage, when Evan was by her side, than when she went to -the gloomy heath alone. Rachel herself soon made this observation, and -as she could depend upon the honesty and prudence of him she loved, she -felt less fear at his being a frequent witness of her mother’s terrific -ravings. Thus all that human consolation was capable to afford was -offered to the sufferer by her sympathising children. - -But the delirium of Ruth Tudor appeared to increase with every nightly -visit to the cave of secret blood; some hideous shadow seemed to follow -her steps in the darkness, and sit by her side in the light. Sometimes -she held strange parley with this creation of her phrensy, and at others -smiled upon it in scornful silence; now, her language was in the tones of -entreaty, pity, and forgiveness; anon, it was the burst of execration, -curses, and scorn. To the gentle listeners her words were blasphemy; -and, shuddering at her boldness, they deemed, in the simple holiness of -their own hearts, that the evil one was besetting her, and that religion -alone could banish him. Possessed by this idea, Evan one day suddenly -interrupted her tremendous denunciations upon her fate, and him who, she -said, stood over her to fulfil it, with imploring her to open the book -which he held in his hand, and seek consolation from its words and -promises. She listened, and grew calm in a moment; with an awful smile -she bade him open, and read at the first place which should meet his eye: -“from that, the word of truth, as thou sayest, I shall know my fate; what -is there written I will believe.” He opened the book, and read— - -“_Whither shall I go from thy spirit_, _or whither shall I flee from thy -presence_? _If I go up into heaven_, _thou art there_; _if I make my bed -in hell_, _thou art there_; _If I take the wings of the morning_, _and -dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea_, _even there shall thy hand lead -me_, _and thy right hand shall hold me_.” - -Ruth laid her hand upon the book: “it is enough; its words are truth; it -hath said there is no hope, and I find comfort in my despair: I have -already spoken thus in the secrecy of my heart, and I know that he will -be obeyed; the unnamed sin must be—.” Evan knew not how to comfort, so -he shut up his book and retired; and Rachel kissed the cheek of her -mother, as she bade her a tender good night. Another month and she was -to be the bride of Evan, and she passed over the heath with a light step, -for the thought of her bridal seemed to give joy to her mother. “We -shall all be happy then,” said the smiling girl, as the youth of her -heart parted from her hand for the night; “and heaven kindly grant that -happiness may last.” - -The time appointed for the marriage of Rachel Tudor and Evan Edwards had -long passed away, and winter had set in with unusual sternness even on -that stormy coast; when, during a land tempest, on a dark November -afternoon, a stranger to the country, journeying on foot, lost his way in -endeavouring to find a short route to his destination, over stubble -fields and meadow lands, by following the footmarks of those who had -preceded him. The stranger was a young man, of a bright eye and hardy -look, and he went on buffeting the elements, and buffeted by them, -without a thought of weariness, or a single expression of impatience. -Night descended upon him as he walked, and the snow storm came down with -unusual violence, as if to try the temper of his mind, a mind cultivated -and enlightened, though cased in a frame accustomed to hardships, and -veiled by a plain, nay almost rustic exterior. The thunder roared loudly -above him, and the wind blowing tremendously, raised the new-fallen snow -from the earth, which, mingling with the showers as they fell, raised a -clatter about his head which bewildered and blinded the traveller, who, -finding himself near some leafless brambles and a few clustered bushes of -the mountain broom, took shelter under them to recover his senses, and -reconnoitre his position. “Of all these ingredients for a storm,” said -he smilingly to himself, “the lightning is the most endurable after all; -for if it does not kill, it may at least cure, by lighting the way out of -a labyrinth, and by its bright flashes I hope to discover where I am.” -In this hope he was not mistaken: the brilliant and beautiful gleam -showed him, when the snow shower had somewhat abated, every stunted bush -and blade of grass for some miles, and something, about the distance of -one, that looked like a white-washed cottage of some poor encloser of the -miserable heath upon which he was now standing. Full of hope of a -shelter from the storm, and, lit onwards by the magnificent torch of -heaven, the stranger trod cheerily forwards, and in less than half an -hour, making full allowance for his retrograding between the flashes, -arrived at his beacon the white cottage, which, from the low wall of -loose limestones by which it was surrounded, he judged to be, as he had -already imagined, the humble residence of some poor tenant of the manor. -He opened the little gate, and was proceeding to knock at the door, when -his steps were arrested by a singular and unexpected sound; it was a -choral burst of many voices, singing slowly and solemnly that magnificent -dirge of the church of England, the 104th psalm. The stranger loved -music, and the sombrous melody of that fine air had an instant effect -upon his feelings; he lingered in solemn and silent admiration till the -majestic strain had ceased; he then knocked gently at the door, which was -instantly and courteously opened to his inquiry. - -On entering, he found himself in a cottage of a more respectable interior -than from its outward appearance he had been led to expect: but he had -little leisure or inclination for the survey of its effects, for his -senses and imagination were immediately and entirely occupied by the -scene which presented itself on his entrance. In the centre of the room -into which he had been so readily admitted, stood, on its tressels, an -open coffin; lights were at its head and foot, and on each side sat many -persons of both sexes, who appeared to be engaged in the customary -ceremony of watching the corse previous to its interment in the morning. -There were many who appeared to the stranger to be watchers, but there -were but two who, in his eye, bore the appearance of mourners, and they -had faces of grief which spoke too plainly of the anguish that was -mingling within: one, at the foot of the coffin, was a pale youth just -blooming into manhood, who covered his dewy eyes with trembling fingers -that ill concealed the tears which trickled down his wan cheeks beneath: -the other—; but why should we again describe that still unbowed and lofty -form? The awful marble brow upon which the stranger gazed, was that of -Ruth Tudor. - -There was much whispering and quiet talk among the people while -refreshments were handed amongst them; and so little curiosity was -excited by the appearance of the traveller, that he naturally concluded -that it must be no common loss that could deaden a feeling usually so -intense in the bosoms of Welsh peasants; he was even checked for an -attempt to question; but one man,—he who had given him admittance, and -seemed to possess authority in the circle,—told him he would answer his -questions when the guests should depart, but till then he must keep -silence. The traveller endeavoured to obey, and sat down in quiet -contemplation of the figure who most interested his attention, and who -sat at the coffin’s head. Ruth Tudor spoke nothing, nor did she appear -to heed aught of the business that was passing around her. Absorbed by -reflection, her eyes were generally cast to the ground; but when they -were raised, the traveller looked in vain for that expression of grief -which had struck him so forcibly on his entrance; there was something -wonderful strange in the character of her perfect features: could he have -found words for his thought, and might have been permitted the -expression, he would have called it triumphant despair; so deeply -agonised, so proudly stern, looked the mourner that sat by the dead. - -The interest which the traveller took in the scene became more intense -the longer he gazed upon its action; unable to resist the anxiety which -had begun to prey upon his spirit, he arose and walked towards the -coffin, with the purpose of contemplating its inhabitant: a sad -explanation was given, by its appearance, of the grief and the anguish he -had witnessed; a beautiful girl was reposing in the narrow house, with a -face as calm and lovely as if she but slept a deep and refreshing sleep, -and the morning sun would again smile upon her awakening: salt, the -emblem of the immortal soul, was placed upon her breast; and, in her pale -and perishing fingers, a branch of living flowers were struggling for -life in the grasp of death, and diffusing their sweet and gracious -fragrance over the cold odour of mortality. These images, so opposite, -yet so alike, affected the spirit of the gazer, and he almost wept as he -continued looking upon them, till he was aroused from his trance by the -strange conduct of Ruth Tudor, who had caught a glimpse of his face as he -bent in sorrow over the coffin. She sprung up from her seat, and darting -at him a terrible glance of recognition, pointed down to the corse, and -then with a hollow burst of frantic laughter, shouted—“Behold, thou -liar!” - -The startled stranger was relieved from the necessity of speaking by some -one taking his arm and gently leading him to the farther end of the -cottage; the eyes of Ruth followed him, and it was not till he had done -violence to himself in turning from her to his conductor, that he could -escape their singular fascination. When he did so he beheld a venerable -old man, the pastor of a distant village, who had come that night to -speak comfort to the mourners, and perform the last sad duty to the dead -on the morrow. “Be not alarmed at what you have witnessed, my young -friend,” said he; “these ravings are not uncommon: this unhappy woman, at -an early period of her life, gave ear to the miserable superstitions of -her country, and a wretched pretender to wisdom predicted that she should -become a shedder of blood: madness has been the inevitable consequence in -an ardent spirit, and in its ravings she dreams she has committed one -sin, and is still tempted to add to it another.” - -“You may say what you please, parson,” said the old man who had given -admittance to the stranger, and who now, after dismissing all the guests -save the youth, joined the talkers, and seated himself on the settle by -their sides; “you may say what you please about madness and superstition; -but I know Ruth Tudor was a fated woman, and the deed that was to be I -believe she has done: aye, aye, her madness is conscience; and if the -deep sea and the jagged rocks could speak, they might tell us a tale of -other things that: but she is judged now; her only child is gone—her poor -Rachel. Poor Evan! he was her suitor: ah, he little thought two months -ago, when he was preparing for a gay bridal, that her slight sickness -would end thus: _he_ does not deserve it; but for her—God forgive me if I -do her wrong, but I think it is the hand of God, and it lies heavy, as it -should.” And the grey-haired old man hobbled away, satisfied that in -thus thinking he was shewing his zeal for virtue. - -“Alas, that so white a head should acknowledge so hard a heart!” said the -pastor; “Ruth is condemned, according to his system, for committing that -which a mightier hand compelled her to do; how harsh and misjudging is -age! But we must not speak so loud,” continued he; “for see, the youth -Evan is retiring for the night, and the miserable mother has thrown -herself on the floor to sleep; the sole domestic is rocking on her stool, -and therefore I will do the honours of this poor cottage to you. There -is a chamber above this, containing the only bed in the hut; thither you -may go and rest, for otherwise it will certainly be vacant to-night: I -shall find a bed in the village; and Evan sleeps near you with some of -the guests in the barn. But, before I go, if my question be not -unwelcome and intrusive, tell me who you are, and whither you are bound.” - -“I was ever somewhat of a subscriber to the old man’s creed of fatalism,” -said the stranger, smiling, “and I believe I am more confirmed in it by -the singular events of this day. My father was a man of a certain rank -in society, but of selfish and disorderly habits. A course of -extravagance and idleness was succeeded by difficulties and distress. -Harassed by creditors, he was pained by their demands, and his -selfishness was unable to endure the sufferings of his wife and children. -Instead of exertion, he had recourse to flight, and left us to face the -difficulties from which he shrunk. He was absent for years, while his -family toiled and struggled with success. Suddenly we heard that he was -concealed in this part of the coast; the cause which made that -concealment necessary I forbear to mention; but he as suddenly -disappeared from the eyes of men, though we never could trace him beyond -this part of the country. I have always believed that I should one day -find my father, and have lately, though with difficulty, prevailed upon -my mother to allow me to make my inquiries in this neighbourhood; but my -search is at an end to-day,—I believe that I have found my father. -Roaming along the beach, I penetrated into several of those dark caverns -of the rocks, which might well, by their rugged aspects, deter the idle -and the timid from entering. Through the fissures of one I discovered, -in the interior, a light. Surprised, I penetrated to its concealment, -and discovered a man sleeping on the ground. I advanced to awake him, -and found but a fleshless skeleton, cased in tattered and decaying -garments. He had probably met his death by accident, for exactly over -the corpse I observed, at a terrific distance, the daylight, as if -streaming down from an aperture above. Thus the wretched man must have -fallen, but how long since, or who had discovered his body, and left the -light which I beheld, I knew not, though I cannot help cherishing a -strong conviction that it was the body of Rhys Meredith that I saw.” - -“Who talks of Rhys Meredith,” said a stern voice near the coffin, “and of -the cave where the outcast rots?” They turned quickly at the sound, and -beheld Ruth Tudor standing up, as if she had been intently listening to -the story. “It was I who spoke, dame,” said the stranger gently, “and my -speech was of my father, of Rhys Meredith; I am Owen his son.” - -“Son! Owen Rhys!” said the bewildered Ruth, passing her hand over her -forehead, as if to enable her to recover the combinations of these names; -“and who art thou, that thus givest human ties to him who is no more of -humanity? why speakest thou of living things as pertaining to the dead? -Father! he is father of nought save sin, and murder is his only -begotten!” - -She advanced to the traveller as she spoke, and again caught a view of -his face; again he saw the wild look of recognition, and an unearthly -shriek followed the convulsive horror of her face. “There! there!” she -said, “I knew it must be thyself; once before to-night have I beheld -thee, yet what can thy coming bode? Back with thee, ruffian! for is not -thy work done?” - -“Let us leave her,” said the good pastor, “to the care of her attendant; -do not continue to meet her gaze, your presence may increase, but cannot -allay her malady: go up to your bed and rest.” - -He retired as he spoke; and Owen, in compliance with his wish, ascended -the ruinous stair which led to his chamber, after he had beheld Ruth -Tudor quietly place herself in her seat at the open coffin’s head. The -room to which he mounted was not of the most cheering aspect, yet he felt -that he had often slept soundly in a worse. It was a gloomy unfinished -chamber, and the wind was whistling coldly and drearily through the -uncovered rafters above his head. Like many of the cottages in that part -of the country, it appeared to have grown old and ruinous before it had -been finished; for the flooring was so crazy as scarcely to support the -huge wooden bedstead, and in many instances the boards were entirely -separated from each other, and in the centre, time, or the rot, had so -completely devoured the larger half of one, that through the gaping -aperture Owen had an entire command of the room and the party below, -looking down immediately above the coffin. Ruth was in the same attitude -as when he left her, and the servant girl was dozing by her side. Every -thing being perfectly tranquil, Owen threw himself upon his hard couch, -and endeavoured to compose himself to rest for the night, but this had -become a task, and one of no easy nature to surmount; his thoughts still -wandered to the events of the day, and he felt there was some strange -connexion between the scene he had just witnessed, and the darker one of -the secret cave. He was an imaginative man, and of a quick and feverish -temperament, and he thought of Ruth Tudor’s ravings, and the wretched -skeleton of the rock, till he had worked out in his brain the chain of -events that linked one consequence with the other: he grew restless and -wretched, and amidst the tossings of impatient anxiety, fatigue -overpowered him, and he sunk into a perturbed and heated sleep. His -slumber was broken by dreams that might well be the shadows of his waking -reveries. He was alone (as in reality) upon his humble bed, when -imagination brought to his ear the sound of many voices again singing the -slow and monotonous psalm; it was interrupted by the outcries of some -unseen things who attempted to enter his chamber, and, amid yells of fear -and execrations of anger, bade him “Arise, and come forth, and aid:” then -the coffined form which slept so quietly below, stood by his side, and in -beseeching accents, bade him “Arise, and save her.” In his sleep he -attempted to spring up, but a horrid fear restrained him, a fear that he -should be too late; then he crouched like a coward beneath his coverings, -to hide from the reproaches of the spectre, while shouts of laughter and -shrieks of agony were poured like a tempest around him: he sprung from -his bed and awoke. - -It was some moments ere he could recover recollection, or shake off the -horror which had seized upon his soul. He listened, and with infinite -satisfaction observed an unbroken silence throughout the house. He -smiled at his own terrors, attributed them to the events of the day, or -the presence of a corse, and determined not to look down into the lower -room till he should be summoned thither in the morning. He walked to the -casement, and looked abroad to the night; the clouds were many, black, -and lowering, and the face of the sky looked angrily at the wind, and -glared portentously upon the earth; the _sleet_ was still falling; -distant thunder announced the approach or departure of a storm, and Owen -marked the clouds coming from afar towards him, laden with the rapid and -destructive lightning: he shut the casement and returned towards his bed; -but the light from below attracted his eye, and he could not pass the -aperture without taking one glance at the party. - -They were in the same attitude in which he had left them; the servant was -sleeping, but Ruth was earnestly gazing on the lower end of the room upon -something, without the sight of Owen; his attention was next fixed upon -the corpse, and he thought he had never seen any living thing so lovely; -and so calm was the aspect of her last repose, that Meredith thought it -more resembled a temporary suspension of the faculties, than the eternal -stupor of death: her features were pale, but not distorted, and there was -none of the livid hue of death in her beautiful mouth and lips; but the -flowers in her hand gave stronger demonstration of the presence of the -power, before whose potency their little strength was fading; drooping -with a mortal sickness, they bowed down their heads in submission, as one -by one they dropped from her pale and perishing fingers. Owen gazed, -till he thought he saw the grasp of her hand relax, and a convulsive -smile pass over her cold and rigid features; he looked again; the -eye-lids shook and vibrated like the string of some fine-strung -instrument; the hair rose, and the head cloth moved: he started up -ashamed: “Does the madness of this woman affect all who would sleep -beneath her roof?” said he; “what is this that disturbs me—or am I yet in -a dream? Hark! what is that?” It was the voice of Ruth; she had risen -from her seat, and was standing near the coffin, apparently addressing -some one who stood at the lower end of the room: “To what purpose is thy -coming now?” said she, in a low and melancholy voice, “and at what dost -thou laugh and gibe? lo! you; she is here, and the sin you know of, -cannot be; how can I take the life which another hath already withdrawn? -Go, go, hence to thy cave of night, for this is no place of safety for -thee.” Her thoughts now took another turn; she seemed to hide one from -the pursuit of others; “Lie still! lie still!” she whispered; “put out -thy light! so, so, they pass by and mark thee not; thou art safe; good -night, good night! now will I home to sleep;” and she seated herself in -her chair, as if composing her senses to rest. - -Owen was again bewildered in the chaos of thought, but for this time he -determined to subdue his imagination, and, throwing himself upon his bed, -again gave himself up to sleep; but the images of his former dreams still -haunted him, and their hideous phantasms were more powerfully renewed; -again he heard the solemn psalm of death, but unsung by mortals—it was -pealed through earth up to the high heaven, by myriads of the viewless -and the mighty: again he heard the execrations of millions for some -unremembered sin, and the wrath and the hatred of a world was rushing -upon him: “Come forth! come forth!” was the cry; and amid yells and howls -they were darting upon him, when the pale form of the beautiful dead -arose between them, and shielded him from their malice; but he heard her -say aloud, “It is for this, that thou wilt not save me; arise, arise, and -help!” - -He sprung up as he was commanded; sleeping or waking he never knew; but -he started from his bed to look down into the chamber, as he heard the -voice of Ruth loud in terrific denunciation: he looked; she was standing, -uttering yells of madness and rage, and close to her was a well-known -form of appalling recollection—his father, as he had seen him last; he -arose and darted to the door: “I am mad,” said he; “I am surely mad, or -this is still a continuation of my dream:” he looked again; Ruth was -still there, but alone. - -But, though no visible form stood by the maniac, some fiend had entered -her soul, and mastered her mighty spirit; she had armed herself with an -axe, and shouting, “Liar, liar, hence!” was pursuing some imaginary foe -to the darker side of the cottage: Owen strove hard to trace her motions, -but as she had retreated under the space occupied by his bed, he could no -longer see her, and his eyes involuntarily fastened themselves upon the -coffin; there a new horror met them; the dead corpse had risen, and with -wild and glaring eyes was watching the scene before her. Owen distrusted -his senses till he heard the terrific voice of Ruth, as she marked the -miracle he had witnessed; “The fiend, the robber!” she yelled, “it is he -who hath entered the pure body of my child. Back to thy cave of blood, -thou lost one! back to thine own dark hell!” Owen flew to the door; it -was too late; he heard the shriek—the blow: he _fell_ into the room, but -only in time to hear the second blow, and see the cleft hand of the -hapless Rachel fall back upon its bloody pillow; his terrible cries -brought in the sleepers from the barn, headed by the wretched Evan, and, -for a time, the thunders of heaven were drowned in the clamorous grief of -man. No one dared to approach the miserable Ruth, who now, in utter -frenzy, strode around the room, brandishing, with diabolical grandeur, -the bloody axe, and singing a wild song of triumph and joy. All fell -back as she approached, and shrunk from the infernal majesty of her -terrific form; and the thunders of heaven rolling above their heads, and -the flashings of the fires of eternity in their eyes, were less terrible -than the savage glare and desperate wrath of the maniac:—suddenly, the -house rocked to its foundation; its inmates were blinded for a moment, -and sunk, felled by a stunning blow, to the earth;—slowly each man -recovered and arose, wondering he was yet alive;—all were unhurt, save -one. Ruth Tudor was on the earth, her blackened limbs prostrate beneath -the coffin of her child, and her dead cheek resting on the rent and -bloody axe;—it had been the destroyer of both. - - - - -THE YELLOW DWARF. -A TALE OF THE ORANGE TREE. - - - Oranges and Lemons. - -EVERY body knows, or at least ought to know, with what an uproar of -delight the birth of an heir to any noble family was celebrated in the -old baronial times of fisty-cuff memory; exactly such a festival would -we, the humble historian of the illustrious house of Tecklenburgh, -describe if we knew how to render justice to the outrageous mirth which -shook the old castle to its very foundation, on the day of the eventful -morn on which the lady of the eldest son of the family had presented her -lord, and his no less expecting father the count, with a new prop to the -seat of their ancient dignities. It was amid the mingled uproar of -trumpets, bells, soldiers, women, horses, and dogs, that the respectable -purple-nosed dominican, who was confessor to the family, gave a blessing -and a name to its future representative; and immediately after the -ceremony, the knights and nobles, wearied by the blows given and received -in the jousts, retired to the dining hall with the threefold intention of -filling their empty stomachs with something better than the east wind, -solacing their spirits with the biting jests of the count’s fool, and -curing their wounds and bruises of the morning by bathing them in flagons -of rhenish, till the moon should look down upon the evening. - -But happiness will not endure for ever, like riches, she maketh herself -wings and fleeth away: the company, after picking the flesh of the huge -wild boar to the bone, began to stare at each other with bleared eyes, -ask querulous questions with stuttering tongues, and reply with solemn -and important visages; and the count of Tecklenburgh, fearing that his -youngest son, the handsome Sir Ludolph, would soon grow as wise as the -rest of the party, and of course utterly unfit for business, withdrew him -quietly from the table and conducted him to his private apartment; there, -seating himself in his state chair and enrobing his person, with an air -of paternal dignity he solemnly demanded of his son, if he had, according -to his particular order, considered the subject of their last conference. -The young knight answered, without any hesitation, that he had not, for -that the subject was so disagreeable to him that he had never suffered it -to enter his mind since; that he thought the tonsure excessively -unbecoming, and that he had no inclination to pray every time St. -Benedict’s bells should ring; and he added moreover, that he was resolved -to carve himself out a fortune with his sword, and for that purpose -intended to set off immediately for the court of the injured princes of -Thuringia, whose cause was a just and honourable one, and make them an -offer of his services: all this was said with an air of so much -determination and composure, as partly to disturb, and partly to amuse -the gravity of the count of Tecklenburgh; but considering within himself -for a few moments, he thought this last project of his son was not quite -so foolish as he had at first been willing to imagine it. In addition to -high courage and many knightly acquirements, Ludolph possessed a very -handsome person, and this idea connecting itself with the beautiful -sister of the princes of Thuringia, he began to think that it would be a -pity to hide that fine form under a greasy cassock; he reflected that -should the three sons of Albert the Depraved get their brains knocked out -in the skirmish, (a consummation devoutly to be wished, and, from their -warlike character and powerful enemies, very likely to happen,) their -possessions would descend to their sister, who might possibly fall in -love with his handsome son, and then possibly the margraviate of -Thuringia might finally centre in his family. These, and many other -possibilities working in the brain of father Tecklenburgh, worked a -change in his countenance also; and Ludolph seeing a smile, or something -like one, hovering over his iron features, judged it a favourable -opportunity for re-enforcing his petition, which he did with all the zeal -and eloquence he could muster—eloquence which touched the heart of his -tender father, for he assured him that if he would permit him to depart, -he would not draw the smallest piece of copper from his treasury to fit -him out for the expedition, but would make his aunt’s legacy of relics -answer every purpose. This last remonstrance settled the business; count -Tecklenburgh, finding it was to cost him nothing, gave his consent to the -measure, and made his son happy in his own way, though, if that happiness -had cost him a single cruitzner, he would have held fast to the tonsure -in spite of all the repugnance of poor Ludolph; as it was, he gave him -his blessing, and dismissed him with much good advice, but not a single -coin, and the knight was too happy in the granted permission to grieve at -his father’s lack of liberality. With a lightened heart he went for his -holy legacy, which he found much heavier than he had expected; every bone -and rag was carefully marked with the name of its original owner, and, -after getting the monk to read him their titles, and affix a value to -each article, he hastened to dispose of his sanctified treasure. He -imagined the most likely persons to bid handsomely for his commodities -would be the monks, who paid such respectful and humble reverence to -cargoes of that description; but, after visiting a convent of Dominicans -situated near the castle, in this instance he found himself most -grievously mistaken; these holy pedlars were much too wise to buy what -they had long found their account in selling: they had already a good -stock on hand, and, when this should be exhausted, they could manufacture -others at a much cheaper rate than they could purchase them of count -Ludolph: so he carried his legacy to the nuns, who rejected it -instantaneously, doubting whether the articles were genuine. From the -nuns he went to all the orders of mendicants, who treated him and his -relics with great contempt, cried down his cargo, and impudently asserted -that the leg of St. Bridget, which he had considered the most valuable -article in the pious collection, was the leg of a woman who was hung some -years before for sorcery in Nuremburg, as they themselves had the real -original limb of the saint in their possession. Thus disappointed among -the shorn lambs of the fold, Ludolph determined to seek for purchasers -among the laity, and accordingly found them in the persons of -priest-ridden princes, crusading nobles, pilgrim knights, and -convent-founding ladies: the great variety of his good aunt’s collection -enabled him to gratify the tastes of all, for his box contained one -member or other of every saint mentioned in the monk of Treves’s -martyrology. St. Bridget’s leg he sold at a high price to a miserable -old noble who had grown rich by rapine, and who trusted by this measure -to scare away the goblins and spectres who nightly kept their revels -round his bed. The thumb of St. Austin was purchased by a beautiful -princess, as the guard of her chastity amid the allurements of a court, -and was suspended like a camphor bag around her delicate neck; while the -illustrious mother of a reprobate young knight earnestly hoped, by -tacking a piece of the hair shirt of St. Jerome to the shirt of her son, -to effect a reformation in his morals, and an amendment in his manners. -There were always abundance of fools in the world, and in those -unlettered times it did not require the light of a lantern to look for -them. Ludolph thought so, as, with a lightened box but a heavy purse, he -returned to Tecklenburgh to fit out for his expedition. Hosen, boots, -vests, tunics, hoods, harness, and arms, were all ready in a short time; -for when a man has money, every thing else under the sun is very much at -his service. His appointments were all of the handsomest kind; his -device was a boar, and his colours were blue and scarlet. And thus, -having equipped the knight and sent him forward, let us look back for a -little, to ascertain whither he is going, and for what purpose when he -shall arrive there. - -The cause of the princes of Thuringia was, as count Ludolph had truly -stated, a just and honourable one: their father, Albert the Depraved, had -disinherited them, and banished their mother, in favour of a worthless -mistress and his illegitimate son, for whom he anxiously endeavoured to -procure the investiture of his dominions after his decease. Not -succeeding in this notable project, and bent upon the ruin of his own -children, he sold his landgraviate of Misnia to the emperor Adolphus, who -dying before he could be benefited by his purchase, bequeathed this -right, to which he had no right at all, to his brother Philip of Nassau, -who, poor in character, and still poorer in purse, was now levying an -army, aided by the emperor Albert, to deprive the legitimate heir, -Frederic with the Bite, and his brother Dictman, of their rights and -possessions. To this project they were by no means disposed to consent, -more especially as their mother, Margaret, daughter of Frederic the -Redbeard, continually kept alive their resentment against their worthless -father and his abandoned associates. This princess, on being years -before separated from her children by her husband, had requested -permission to take leave of them ere their departure, which being -granted, she, in the frenzy of rage and grief, left a singular memorial -of her wrongs with her eldest son; she bit a piece out of his cheek, and -the impression remaining upon his face for ever, inflamed his indignation -against the original author of this disfigurement; so that, when capable -of bearing arms, he deposed his father and assumed his place, to thrust -him from which Philip of Nassau was now threatening, and to oppose whom -half Germany was rising in arms to assist the cheek-bitten Frederic, and -among many others the knight of Tecklenburgh. - -Margaret of Suabia, the mother of the princes, during the early part of -her life, had been confined by her husband in the castle of Wartzburg, in -order that she might be removed the more readily into a still smaller -abode, whenever the proper opportunity should occur, and which he piously -determined not to neglect. She was at this period in a situation which -might have interested any man but such a husband, for she promised to -increase his illustrious family by an additional son or daughter; but as -he cared for no children but the son of his mistress Cunegunda, this -circumstance rather operated against the poor princess, who was left to -amuse herself as well as she could in superintending the infancy of her -sons, and hunting in the haunted forest of Eisenac. One day, while thus -diverting her attention from the many anxieties which oppressed her, she -found herself suddenly separated from her attendants; but hearing a horn -sound to the right, she spurred on her palfrey in that direction, till, -after an hour’s hard riding, she began to fear she was removing still -further from her people, for no sound could she hear but that of the -eternal bugle, no hoof-tramp but that of her own steed. Still the horn -sounded, and still the princess galloped, till at length wearied by her -exercise, and finding herself in a large open plain, she dismounted to -reconnoitre; at the same moment she remarked the silence of the horn, and -the appearance of a gigantic orange tree, loaded with fine fruit, in the -centre of the tranquil plain. Astonishment she certainly felt on -beholding so extraordinary and beautiful an object; but hunger and -fatigue had entirely banished all notions of fear; besides, dame -Margaret, having no small share of the curiosity of her grandmother Eve, -could no more resist the temptation of tasting these oranges, than the -first woman did the apple; so climbing up into the tree, she regaled -herself to her heart’s content with this fine fruit of the forest. By -the time she had fairly dined, and was as weary of eating as she had -previously been of riding, she bethought her of the boys at home, and -with what glee they would have marched to the sack of the orange tree; -but as that was not possible, she determined they should not be without -share of the spoil, and therefore began to fill her huge pockets with the -ripest and the largest of the fruit. But this action displeased the -hospitable master of the table at which she had been so plentifully -regaled; “Eat, but take nothing away,” had been one of his maxims, and he -was mortally offended to see this honest rule set at nought in the person -of a princess, a lady who, he thought, ought to have understood better -manners. Before, therefore, _she_ had laid up provisions for the march, -a little shrill voice from the tree commanded her highness “not to steal -his fruit,” and, at the same instant, there issued from the trunk which -opened to give him a passage, a figure which effectually satisfied the -curiosity of the princess of Suabia. The animal which now quickly -ascended the tree, and placed himself _vis à vis_ with her highness, was -a little deformed man, about three feet and a half high, with a face as -yellow as the oranges upon which he lived, hair of the same hue hanging -down to his heels, and a monstrous beard, of the same bilious complexion, -gracefully descending to his feet; if you add to this, the gaiety of his -yellow doublet, short cloak, and hose, you will not wonder that Margaret -did not altogether relish the _tête à tête_ in which she found herself so -suddenly and singularly placed, independent of the awkwardness of paying -a first visit in the boughs of a tree. “Princess,” said the little -yellow devil, after staring at her some time with his two huge goggling -yellow eyes, “what business have you here?” “I have lost my way,” she -replied, “and being fatigued, was going to gather an orange to appease my -hunger:” but he, without the least respect for his guest, or the rank of -an emperor’s daughter, rudely answered, “Woman, you lie! you were -stealing my property to carry away.” At this insolent reproach, -Margaret, whose patience was never proverbial, felt a strong inclination -to treat the demon as she afterwards did her son; but fearing that the -little gentleman might not endure it quite so temperately, prudently -restrained this effort of her indignation, and only said, “I did not know -the tree had any other owner than myself, or I would not have gathered -any; what I have eaten I cannot restore, but here is the last I have -taken;” and she threw it rather roughly at the Dwarf, who, irritated -excessively at this behaviour, told her, grinning hideously, and -exhibiting for her admiration his monstrous overgrown yellow claws, that -he had a strong temptation to tear her to pieces, which nothing but his -wish to be allied to the blood of the emperors should have prevented. -“My oranges,” said he, “which you have stolen, I estimate above all -price, except that which I am going to demand: I am a powerful demon, and -rule with unbounded sway many thousand spirits; but I am unhappy in not -having a wife with whom to share my power; as Adam was not delighted in -Paradise, neither am I in my Orange Tree, without a companion. You are -about to present an infant to your lord, who is utterly indifferent about -the matter; it will be a girl, and I demand her in marriage on the day -she will be twenty years old: consent to be my mother, and I will avenge -your injuries upon your husband, and load you with honours and riches; -refuse, and I will tear you in pieces this moment, and furnish my supper -table with your carcass.” Margaret, who had never been so terrified in -all her life, and would not only have given her daughter, but her sons -and husband into the bargain, to have got away, readily promised to agree -with the Dwarf’s wishes, who now became exceedingly polite, embraced his -dear mother, and assured her of his devotion. He then informed her he -would give her notice some months before he should claim his wife, placed -her carefully and tenderly upon her palfrey, and mounting behind, spurred -on the animal, who flew like the wind to the entrance of the forest; -where again embracing his good mother, he dismounted and disappeared. -Margaret, freed from the odious company of the Yellow Dwarf, began to -reflect with no very pleasant feelings upon her present adventure and -future prospects. She was, indeed, safe out of the orange-coloured -clutches of her dutiful and well-beloved son; and, vexed as she was by -the horrible promise she had been obliged to make, she could not help -congratulating herself with great sincerity upon this circumstance, and -began, like all who have just escaped a present danger, to make light of -the evils in the distance. The farther she cantered from the Orange -Tree, the easier her mind became; and taking a few hints from “Time, the -comforter,” she reflected that many things might occur before the -expiration of twenty years: it was a long period to look forward; the -little yellow devil might die, (and, indeed, she could not but allow that -he looked most miserably ill,) or he might forget his bargain, or he -might be conquered and killed by some black, pea-green, or true blue -devil, who might be stronger or more powerful than himself; or, in case -of the worst, she could secure her daughter in some strong castle or -convent, or marry her, before the expiration of the term, to some prince -capable of protecting her; at all events, thought Margaret, “sufficient -to the day is the evil thereof;” and, delighted by these soothing -reflections, and charmed to find herself in a whole skin, she trotted -along with great complacency, and arrived quite comforted before the -gates of Wartzburg. - - - -CHAPTER II. - - - “These yellow cowslip cheeks, - And eyes as green as leeks.” - -TWENTY years is indeed a long period to look forward, but a very short -one to look back, and so thought the now widowed princess, when, nineteen -years and some months after her adventure in the forest, she sat beside -her lovely daughter in the palace of Erfurt, listening with earnest and -tender attention to the plans of her warlike sons for wresting their -dominions from the iron grasp of Albert the One-eyed and Philip of -Nassau. It was necessary that they should give battle to their enemies; -and as the margrave of Misnia intended to fight for his country in -person, this would unavoidably deprive her beloved daughter of that -powerful protection which hitherto had been her security against the -threats of the Yellow Dwarf. It now wanted but six months of the period -when he had determined to claim his bride; and as he had not hitherto -given any indication, according to his word, of his appearance for this -purpose, she trusted he might have forgotten it altogether, and, quietly -resolving not to complain of this breach of promise, forebore to mention -the subject to her children. - -One day, during the bustle of preparation for the approaching warfare, a -knight, splendidly attired, arrived at the palace, and demanded to be -introduced to the princess Margaret, who no sooner beheld him, than she -recognised in the colour of his arms the livery of her dear son-in-law, -the Dwarf of the Orange Tree. He announced himself as the knight of the -king of the oranges, and his embassy was to place abundance of gold at -the feet of the princess Margaret, and to carry away her daughter as the -bride of his master. Concealment was no longer possible, so sending for -her children, she informed them of her forest adventure, and its -unfortunate result. Poor Brunilda fainted away; her brothers swore as -lustily as ever queen Elizabeth did, and fairly bullied the knight -ambassador for his presumption in daring to think of their sister as a -helpmate for the little dirty low-lived sorcerer his master; and -Margaret, who before their entrance had been absolutely terrified to -death by his presence, now finding herself protected, suffered her tongue -to wag at a most unconscionable rate against the poor ambassador. She -told him she had a great mind to cut off his ears, for bringing her such -a message; that his master was a little conceited monster; that if, with -all this gold and silver, he would buy a fine castle, cut off his beard, -and live like a gentleman, he should not want her interest with one of -the dairy-maids, but as it was, the thing was utterly impossible, he -would not succeed even with the lowest scullion. “Madam,” replied the -knight, with a grim kind of gravity, which was not half relished by the -princess, “I would have you to understand I came not hither to bandy -words with you, nor to listen to a catalogue of my master’s perfections: -I must, however, inform you, that he would not part from his Orange Tree, -nor with his beard, for all the princesses in the universe, the fair -Brunilda included. If you do not think proper to keep your promise, he -will find means to oblige you: neither does he require human aid to -obtain his betrothed bride; but his gallantry and good nature will not -allow him to force the will of the fair princess, if he can relinquish -his determination with honour. He is fully aware of your present -repugnance to his nuptials, and he is now whispering me to say, that if -the princess herself declines his vows (which he can hardly believe), he -will release her upon condition of her finding a champion that shall -conquer me, and afterwards my invincible master, before the six months -have expired, in single combat on horseback, on foot, with lance or -sword, according to his highness’s good pleasure at the time of meeting: -shall I say these terms are accepted?” “You may,” replied the margrave, -to whom these conditions did not appear very hard, and who thought it -better to comply with than refuse them, as he was not aware of the -strength of the enemy to whom his mother’s promise had really been given; -and he remembered he should probably be compelled to leave his lovely -sister unprotected, while absent on his distant wars. The arrangements -were, therefore, soon made, and the yellow champion was satisfied. - -And now a splendid scene opened to view in the territories of Frederic -with the bitten cheek. No sooner each day had the bells rung out the -hour of prime, than the trumpet sounded to proclaim the challenge of the -yellow knight, and the promise of the margrave of Misnia, that the -successful champion of the fair Brunilda should obtain her hand for his -reward. Day after day did some knight essay the adventure; and day after -day did the noble Margaret enter the lists, attended by her lovely -daughter, who looked through her fan of peacock’s feathers, as charming, -and carried herself as “daintily,” as whilom did the beauteous Esther, -when she entered into the presence of the loving Ahasuerus. But not like -that beautiful daughter of the scorners of pork did she obtain her -petition; for day after day was she compelled to witness the ruin of her -hopes in the repeated triumphs of the yellow Haman over her own black, -brown, or party-coloured champions: knight after knight fell beneath his -ponderous arm, and were obliged to resign their claims to the fair -Brunilda, to her infinite regret, and their bitter mortification. -Already had the counts of Wartzburg, Oettingen, Henneberg, Hanau, and -Conrad of Reida, been compelled to acknowledge the superiority of his -powerful arm, when the arrival of the handsome knight of Tecklenburgh, -who just came in time to hear a week’s rest proclaimed, in order to gain -time for the approach of other knights from the most distant parts of -Germany to the aid of the endangered princess, revived the hopes of -Brunilda. He came, he saw, he conquered—not the sword of the yellow -champion, but the heart of the charming princess, which was formed of too -tender materials to hold out against so well-looking and redoubted a -warrior: she fell instantly in love with him to distraction, and he, on -his part, was too well bred to be behind-hand. In the extravagance of -her fondness, she thought all things possible to her lover, and made no -doubt that he would be victorious in the combat. Ludolph was precisely -of the same opinion, and to manifest its justice, was most irritably -impatient for the day of combat, which was still at the distance of -several halting sun-risings and sun-settings, which that long-legged old -ragamuffin Time did not carry off, in the opinion of the lovers, quite so -rapidly as he ought to have done. - -But it came at last, that day, that morning of miracles; it came, and -brought nothing with it to daunt the brave spirit of the knight of -Tecklenburgh. Light as the plume in his casque, gay as the colours of -his harness, he entered the lists, and gallantly opposed his person -against the ponderous carcase of the yellow-coloured champion. Blow -after blow was freely given, and as freely received, till the spectators -began to doubt whether either of the men before them was really made of -flesh and blood. Proof decisive, however, was soon given, for the sword -of Ludolph cleft the helmet of his antagonist, and dashed his weapon from -his hand, so that, defenceless and at the mercy of his conqueror, he -yielded up his claim to victory, and was content to beg his life. The -acclamations of the people proved to Ludolph the difficulty of the -conquest he had just achieved. The nobles were all anxious to testify -their esteem and admiration, though some in their hearts were bursting -with envy, and felt themselves almost choked by the fine things they -thought it necessary to utter. Ludolph took them all in good faith with -perfect confidence in their sincerity, for he was too happy and too -honest to suspect; and then turning to the poor champion, whom he hardly -allowed time to recover breath, recommended him to return to his little -lord, and bear his defiance, as he should quietly wait to fulfil the last -condition ere he received the hand of the beautiful Brunilda. The Yellow -Champion took the advice thus kindly offered him, and quitted the palace -of Erfurt, leaving his conqueror busy enough in accepting those -disinterested professions of service which are seldom offered except to -those who do not want them, or from whom an adequate return may not -unreasonably be expected. - -Ludolph waited with great impatience the Dwarf’s reply to his challenge. -His time was passed, meanwhile, in making love to the princess (who on -her part was tolerably well disposed to listen to him), and laying up a -stock of devotion, by prayer and fasting, to serve, as occasion should -warrant, in the approaching combat with the demon, of whose power he had -formed other notions, since his residence in the Misnian court, than -either thinking him so harmless or so insignificant as he had formerly -done. But the days rolled on, and no dwarf appeared. Margaret, who -sincerely admired the valour of Ludolph, was anxious to end his suspense, -and Brunilda’s terrors, by uniting him at once to her daughter, without -waiting for the presence of the Lord of the Orange Tree, of whom she -could never think without shuddering; but the margrave, who, much as he -loved his sister and her noble deliverer, was too much of a gentleman to -break his word, even with a dwarf, determined they should stay the full -time allotted by the demon. The latter was too gallant, and too much in -love with the princess, to forget his engagement, and accordingly one -morning, as the trumpets were sounding the usual summons to the lists, -the Dwarf himself entered them in his customary dress, mounted upon a -yellow steed, and surrounded by a large troop of knights in his colours. -The nobles and ladies of the margrave’s court, struck by the oddity of -his appearance, entirely forgot their politeness, and burst into as -hearty and unanimous a laugh as ever was heard in our lower House at any -of Joe H—’s blunders. But it was no laughing matter to Brunilda: she -saw, for the first time, her intended husband, and she felt that his -ugliness even exceeded her mother’s report, and heaven knows that had not -been flattering. She cast a look of tender entreaty upon Ludolph, who, -impatient to punish his rival and relieve her anxiety, couched his lance, -and spurred forward to meet the demon, who, not to be behind-hand in -courtesy, advanced to receive him. But the knight suddenly sprung back, -on observing the singular dress of his adversary, the extraordinary -lightness of those accoutrements struck him with astonishment. “Sir -knight of the Orange Tree,” said he, “except the lance in your hand and -the sword in your belt, I see no sort of preparation for a combat; -sheathe your person in harness, I pray you, that so at least the chances -may be more equal between us.” “What is that to thee?” replied the -Dwarf; “it is my pleasure to fight in these garments: thief as thou art, -conquer me in them if thou canst. For thee, sweet lady, I am here, to -prove my right to thy hand, to rescue it from this craven, and fear not -but I shall deserve it: my palace is ready, thy dowry is ready, and twice -a thousand slaves wait to obey thy wishes.” Ludolph could not endure -this insolence, so rushing forward as the yellow knights retired from the -person of their leader, he began a most furious attack upon the animal -who pretended to rival him in the affections of his lady. Alas! poor -Brunilda! if she had trembled before, during the combats with the yellow -knight, what anxiety must not have filled her bosom now! The lances were -soon shivered to pieces: the champions drew their swords, but seemed to -make very little impression with them. Ludolph had not yet received a -wound, and yellow-jacket seemed determined to make good his boast, and -hold the knight of Tecklenburgh a tug. Vain was all the skill and -strength of the latter; though he struck with all his might and main, and -heart and soul, he could not cut through a single hair of the Dwarf’s -long beard, which seemed to wag at him in derision. Poor Brunilda sat as -uneasily upon her canopied throne as if she had been upon a bed of -nettles. She prayed to all the saints in heaven, and St. Henry the -Limper in particular, to assist her dear knight in this terrible combat: -but St. Henry the Limper was not in good humour, or was otherwise -engaged, for he did not appear to pay the least attention to her request, -and Ludolph was left to fight it out by himself as he could. In truth, -he did not want inclination to put an end to the business. After pegging -and poking at every inch of the Dwarf’s invulnerable carcass, he espied a -little unguarded spot on the left side of his throat, exactly open to his -right hand. Delighted by the prospect of slicing off his ragamuffin -head, he aimed a mighty blow with all his force, which the little demon -parried; he struck a second with no better success; but the third was -triumphant, for it sent the yellow head flying from his shoulders, and -bounding to another part of the area. The knight leaped from his saddle -to seize the head and hold it up to the view of the people; but in this -race, to his horror, he was outstripped by the Dwarf himself, who -likewise, darting from his horse, flew to the head, grasped it firmly, -gave it a shake, clapped it upon his shoulders, and fixed it again as -firmly and steadily as ever. Then, ere the spectators could recover from -the stupor into which this unexpected contretemps had thrown them, he -struck the staring Ludolph to the ground, seized the princess by her -flowing locks, swung her behind him, and bolted out of the area. His -knights wheeled round to follow him, but the Misnian nobles, recovering -from their confusion, surrounded them with drawn swords, and began a -desperate battle, in which it appeared they clearly had the worst, only -hacking and hewing each other; for the knights, squires, pages, and -horses of the enemy suddenly vanished from their sight, and in their -places appeared a waggon load of oranges bowling and rolling about the -area in the most amusing manner possible. It was some time ere the -nobles could direct their attention to the unfortunate count of -Tecklenburgh, who, stunned by the blow given to him as the parting -blessing of the spiteful Dwarf, was lying insensible on the ground: the -moment he recovered, he declared his intention of pursuing the enemy, in -which he was seconded by all the knights present, who, headed by Margaret -as guide and commander, resolved to storm the Orange Tree itself, and -liberate the captive damsel. They set forward with great courage and in -good order; but they might just as effectively have stayed at home, for, -after wandering about the forest for three days, they returned -crestfallen enough, not only being unable to discover the Orange Tree, -but even the plain in which it stood! Poor Ludolph, whom the princes had -vainly endeavoured to comfort with the assurance that he had fairly -gained the victory, though he had lost the fruit of it, did not return -with them. They lost him from their company the first day of their -search, and they firmly and devoutly believed the yellow devil had hooked -him also in his infernal claws. Margaret gave herself up to grief, and -her sons, finding nothing else was to be done, endeavoured to forget -theirs in the bustle of the approaching war. - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Ha!—such a pair! - - _S. Dro_. _I_, Sir, am Dromio! command him away. - - _E. Dro_. _I_, Sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay. - -IN the meantime Brunilda was jogging on at no easy rate behind the Yellow -Dwarf, who, when arrived at the Orange Tree, opened the trunk by a sign, -and, dismounting, bore his lovely burden into it. She felt herself, -immediately after, descending a flight of steps, which, from the duration -of time, appeared to be endless. They did terminate, however, at last, -and the Dwarf, placing her roughly upon her feet, retired swiftly from -the place, closing the entrance at the bottom of the stairs carefully -after him. It was some time after his departure ere Brunilda took -courage to open her eyes and look around her; when she did, she found -herself in a subterraneous apartment as large as the bed-chamber of the -empress Constance. {64} Every article about it was of silver, and there -was a magnificence about this underground palace, which made her conclude -it to be the castle and principal residence of her intended husband, the -Yellow Dwarf, whose company she did not covet, and who, to do him -justice, did not appear to torment her. Food was supplied, and every -attention paid to her wishes by many attendants of both sexes, who, -however, never exchanged one single word in her hearing. Wearied out by -this continual taciturnity, she began to wish for the sound of a human -voice, and, thinking she might probably learn something of the Dwarf’s -intentions from himself, she one day instead of questioning her dumb -attendants as usual about her lover, demanded some tidings of their -master. “He cannot approach your presence, madam,” replied one of the -mutes, breaking his hateful silence, “unless you request his appearance. -A mighty spirit, one of the enemies of my master’s and your felicity, has -contrived this misfortune by his spells, but if you command it, he is -permitted to attend you.” Brunilda, who, in giving this required -permission, never dreamed of any thing more than making inquiries after -her family and lover, was confounded to hear the Dwarf, with the most -rapturous impertinence, volubly thank her for this approval of his, and -generous acknowledgment of her passion. Putting aside his long beard -lest it should throw him down, he knelt fantastically at her feet, seized -her white hand, and declared himself the happiest of all demon-born -beings. It was in vain that Brunilda reasoned, entreated, and scolded: -he protested he was satisfied with the proofs she had given of her love, -and, in order to spare her modesty the pain of appearing to yield too -soon, he should put a gentle restraint upon her liberty, and not suffer -her to quit his palace till she became his wife. At this avowal the poor -princess grew outrageous; she asked the little monster how he had dared -to select a princess of her exalted rank to share his hole under ground, -and burrow like rats in the earth? why he had not rather chosen some -humble cast-away maiden, who, having nothing in the world to lose, might -be contented out of it? “Rank!” replied the irritated little demon, “and -what is this rank of which you are so vain? An imaginary splendour -bestowed upon some men by the cringing servility of others,—the weak -fancy that decks one with this supremacy, gives birth to the slavish fear -that ensures to him its possession. Rank!” continued the atrabilious -little viper, swelling into a respectable width by the overflowing of his -angry venom, “rank! it is power gained by force, won by the sword, by -fraud, by oppression! The strongest is the noblest; and if so I am more -than your equal beautiful Brunilda, for, princess as you are, you are my -captive and I am your master.” Brunilda wept at this insolence, and, -like all who know not how to controvert what they yet cannot bear to -acknowledge, hated the Dwarf more than ever, and resolved to prove it by -seizing every opportunity of annoying him. With laudable intention, she -renewed the attack by commenting with great severity upon his frightful -little person: she sneered at his long beard, short legs, and large head. -She demanded if he had ever looked in a mirror, and, if he had, how he -could presume to imagine he could captivate any woman under such a -detestable form? In no age have ugly people borne to be laughed at, for, -however hideous they may happen to be, they seldom find it out -themselves, and are in consequence, very much surprised and offended when -informed of it by others; and, as vanity is usually the reigning passion -of the most disfigured, they seldom pardon an offence which is mortal. -The Dwarf, the ugliest animal the eyes of Brunilda had ever encountered, -could hardly believe this possible, and saw no joke in her mirth at his -expense, and, as he had his full share of that precious commodity, -vanity, he raved, stormed, and became so insolent, that Brunilda was -compelled to order him out of her presence. This command, which he was -obliged to obey, irritated the little creature to madness, and he swore, -that, since he could not enter her presence without her permission, he -would find a mode of making her give it whenever he should condescend to -require it. This threat had more of truth in it than Brunilda imagined. -A few days after this animated conversation, the Dwarf sent to ask leave -to be allowed to pay his visit to the princess, which was immediately -refused. This threw him into a rage, and he informed the princess by one -of his mutes, “that her lover Ludolph of Tecklenburgh was in his power, -and that his head should pay for the scorn with which she thought proper -to treat her lord and husband.” Poor Brunilda hastily gave the required -permission, upon condition that Ludolph should accompany him; and her -“lord and husband,” as he styled himself entered, a few moments after, -followed by the knight, whom his demons had seized in the forest. -“There, madam,” said he, grinning like Grimaldi, but not so merrily, “I -found this stranger in the neighbourhood of my Orange Tree, and I have -brought him hither to secure a welcome for myself. Did I not tell you I -would make you glad to receive me? Here shall this valorous knight -remain, a hostage for your good behaviour; and never shall you receive -him without admitting me at the same moment.” Brunilda, who would have -been delighted, in her present condition, to have seen any human being -whatever, was in raptures at the sight of Ludolph, who, on his part, was -content with his captivity, since he shared it with her; and, -unrestrained by the presence of the Dwarf, they so often and so tenderly -repeated their mutual delight to each other, that the grim jailer could -not endure the sight of their happiness, and rather than witness it, -withdrew himself and Ludolph from the company of Brunilda, which he did -not again seek for some time. When attended by Ludolph, he next entered -her apartment, his jealous tortures were increased by the renewed -endearments of the lovers, and resolving in his own mind not to endure -what he flattered himself he could easily remedy, he threw a spell over -the unlucky Brunilda, which he generously hoped would destroy all the -little tranquillity she enjoyed. The charm operated upon the sight of -the princess, who no longer beheld her lover, but a hideous negro -advancing towards her. Brunilda was terrified, but, reassured by the -explanation of the Dwarf, who felicitated himself on her mortification, -she resolved to punish him in kind; so collecting all the woman in her -soul, and conquering her dislike of the ugly shape he presented to her, -she gave it a most affectionate welcome, and caressed it as her dear -Ludolph. The Dwarf would willingly have annihilated him; but obliged to -keep him in existence to ensure himself admittance to Brunilda, he -resolved to embitter that existence as much as lay in his power, and -having once more recourse to his spells, the handsome Ludolph, unchanged -to himself, appeared to the eyes of the fascinated princess a furious and -monstrous tiger, armed with tremendous fangs and claws. But love -penetrates all disguises, and the princess was now a match for the -sorcerer. She knew that the fangs and claws, however terrible to others, -had no danger for her, and she suffered him to lie at her feet, kiss her -snowy hand, and put his shaggy head upon her lap, without manifesting the -slightest apprehension, to the great annoyance of the Dwarf, whose dull -wit was sharpened by his jealousy, and he now contrived the master-piece -of spells, to the increased misery of poor Brunilda, over whose clouded -senses the charm once more operating, presented her beloved Ludolph only -under the form of the Yellow Dwarf himself. This transformation was -horrible to both the sufferers, for each of the figures maintained that -he was the knight, and persisted in execrating the other as the impostor, -while Brunilda, wearied with gazing on their hateful countenances, dared -not afford the slightest notice to either, lest she should bestow the -tenderness designed for Ludolph upon his detestable rival. In vain did -she weep, threaten, and supplicate the Dwarf to give her lover “any shape -but that.” She knew not even to which of the pair she ought to address -her petition. But the demon was inexorable, listened unmoved to her -sorrows, for his heart was as hard as Pharaoh’s, and even inwardly -laughed at her agonies. In vain did she examine their features in the -hope of discovering some slight difference that might point out her -lover: both grinned the same ghastly smile,—both exhibited the same -unvarying ugliness of feature. Alas, poor Brunilda! Lavater himself -could not have assisted thee, though, hadst thou lived in our days, or -Dr. Spurzheim in thine, some professional examination of the cerebral -organisation of the two dwarfs might have set the question at rest. -Doubtless some bump extraordinary, some wonderful dilation of the organ -of self-esteem in the skull of the true dwarf, or amativeness or -combativeness in that of the false one, might have aided thee to discover -the brutified soul confined in the brutified body. But, as it was, they -were both brutes to Brunilda, and, as she had no wish to charm the Yellow -Dwarf, she wept her disappointment incessantly. Nor was Ludolph less -busy than the princess in employing threats and prayers by turns to -mollify the Dwarf, though one was to as little purpose as the other, in -the presence of the princess. The cunning demon reiterated the same -whining petition, used the same arguments, and denounced the same -vengeance as the unhappy Ludolph; and when retired from her apartment, -laughed at his success, and defiance. It was in vain that Ludolph -accused him of having broken all the laws of chivalry, held even by -demons so sacred. He told him he regarded no laws, except those which he -had made himself. It was to no purpose he argued his right to be set at -liberty at least. The Dwarf, who was a philosopher in his way, replied -that men had no rights, and that “_might_,” which he possessed, was a -much better argument, and a more effective weapon. All this was -unluckily true, but it did not convince the Westphalian. Zeno, the -stoic, said, “that we had two ears, and but one tongue, that we might -hear much and say little.” It was a wise observation, and happy are -those that profit thereby: our two captives might, if they had had the -good luck ever to have heard it; but as they had not, they acted directly -counter, for they so heartily used their two tongues, and so entirely -spared their four ears, that their jailer grew outrageous, and therefore, -except when he went to torment Brunilda, he resolved to free himself from -the society of the count of Tecklenburgh, who paid for his garrulity by -being condemned to talk to himself in one of the most dreary dungeons of -the cavern. Here he had full leisure to think of his misfortunes, and -execrate the contriver of them. He prayed night and morning with all the -strength of lungs he could command, to all the saints in the calendar, to -give him a lift out of this purgatory. He was too good a Christian not -to abhor all thought of magic; but, finding how little notice was taken -of his petition by the higher powers, he could not help thinking of the -lower, and wishing and vowing, that if some sorcerer, witch, or even -devil, would but come to his assistance now, he would find time enough -for repentance hereafter, and heal his conscience, and propitiate Heaven -by many good deeds to be done in perspective. “I would walk to -Jerusalem, for a penance,” said he, “or give the spoils I shall take in -my next battle to the church, or I would, when I shall be able, endow an -abbey. Either of these designs would be satisfactory,” continued he, -“and oh that I had the good luck to be able to put them into execution! -Oh that some friendly spirit, some gnome of these caverns, or demon of -this forest, would but come to my assistance!” No sooner said than done: -the sinner trembled at the instant fulfilment of his wicked wish, and -began with real alarm to suspect that he was a bit of a conjurer himself; -for there arose in a moment, from the bosom of the earth, a gigantic -dusky-looking figure in the human shape, inquiring his commands. “I -could not come to your assistance,” said the object, “till you summoned -me, or you should not have suffered so long. I am the mortal foe of the -Yellow Dwarf, and the legitimate prince of these mines, into which he has -intruded himself, during my absence on a short journey I made to the -centre. He has fixed himself pretty firmly in my palace by his spells, -but I shall contrive to dispossess him. I will begin by assisting you; -speak, knight of Tecklenburgh, how can I serve you?” Ludolph, who, -recovered from his first fright, desired nothing better, immediately -struck a bargain with the friendly gnome; the first article of which was, -that he should liberate himself and the princess. “I can free you -instantly,” replied the gnome, “but the spells around the princess are -too powerful to be suddenly broken; nevertheless, with your help it may -finally be done. We must possess ourselves of the charm in which lies -the power of the Dwarf, this, unfortunately, is his beard; for it will be -a work of difficulty to master it. Could you, in your combat, have cut -off that, instead of his head, all would have been well: but, as long as -that beard hangs to his chin, his body is invulnerable, for, cut him into -fifty pieces and he will unite together again. Notwithstanding all these -difficulties, observe faithfully all my directions, and, ultimately we -may accomplish our wishes. Beneath those mountains of Bohemia which -bound the marquisate of Misnia, there is a diamond mine, as yet unknown -to the human race, whose sacrilegious hands have not there torn open the -heart of their mother earth and disturbed the spirits who sleep in her -bosom. There, concealed many fathoms beneath the mountain, has been -hidden for centuries the magic weapon which alone can conquer the Yellow -Dwarf. It is that identical pair of scissors with which the demon Fate -cuts asunder your mortal destinies; these, and these only, can secure our -enemy. It will be in vain to cut off his head so long as he retains his -beard, and that beard is unapproachable, except to the magic scissors of -fate: the chief difficulty will be in obtaining possession of this -wonderful instrument, since only a knight of unstained loyalty, pure, -spotless, free from taint of libertinism, drunkenness, and bloodshed, can -take them from the hands of the statue which holds them, without -incurring the severe penalty of instant death. When such a knight shall -be found, the scissors must be put into the hands of a spotless virgin, -for only such can use them in cutting off the formidable beard; should -any other woman attempt it, the inevitable consequences would be also -death from the scissors themselves.” Poor Ludolph was as much depressed -by the end of this discourse as he had been elevated by the beginning. -Such a knight it was indeed next to impossible to find. He himself was -as good and true as most; his loyalty was indeed unstained, he had not -shed blood in murderous or treacherous manner; but he had been too -frequently engaged in his father’s petty, and often unjustifiable wars, -to undertake an enterprise that demanded hands free from stain. Then as -to drunkenness, alas! for poor Ludolph, though naturally a very sober -man, he knew he had too often shared many a “t’other flask,” and too -frequently drowned his fears of the abbot of Fulda in the big bowl of -Tecklenburgh, to permit him any chance of success in the achievement. In -his own person, therefore, he gave it directly up, satisfied of his -incapacity from the fore-mentioned weaknesses, without carrying his -self-examination any further, but at the same time almost despairing of -finding a substitute. “For the spotless virgin, friendly gnome,” said -the honest Westphalian, “there I have better hopes, since there are -enough at court, and I shall find this part of my task easy enough.” -“Not quite so easy as you imagine, knight,” replied the gnome, “since -there is not an unmarried lady in all Thuringia who will not lay claim to -that honour, and you may thus be the innocent cause of the death of many; -but I can assist you here, and make this part of the undertaking much -less difficult. Here is a magic girdle; obtain permission to try it, -without speaking of its virtues, upon the ladies of the margrave’s court. -Should the dame who should buckle it on be a deceiver, the girdle though -now appearing of large size, will shrink into the smallest compass, and -will not even encircle her slender waist: should the lady be the object -of your search, it will set closely and gracefully to her form.” “A -thousand thanks,” replied the honest knight; “I have no fears for my -success in this point, and perhaps I may be more fortunate than I expect -in the other. Now then, generous friend, accomplish your kind intention, -release me from this dungeon, and I will immediately hasten to Eisenac -and seek a maiden who may assist to break these abominable enchantments.” -“I will,” replied the spirit, “but do not forget that to other eyes as -well as Brunilda’s, you still wear the form of the Yellow Dwarf; this is -occasioned by three orange-coloured hairs, from his formidable beard, -tied round your right arm; unloose them, and you will appear to others as -you do to yourself and me. Be under no alarm for the safety of the -princess, since I have already prevented your enemy’s entering her -presence without her permission, and will still continue to watch over -her.” The knight again thanked the gnome for his friendly care, and -shutting his eyes, by command of his companion, and opening them again -the next instant, found himself, to his infinite joy, standing near the -Orange Tree, round which his horse was quietly grazing. He soon sprang -lightly into his saddle, and turned his head from the wood, determined to -reach Eisenac ere daybreak. With this resolution he spurred on gaily, -thinking of the joy he should feel upon liberating his beloved Brunilda, -when, in a turn of the wood, he suddenly encountered a troop of knights -in the livery of the Yellow Dwarf. A cold shivering seized him, for he -expected to be dragged back neck and heels to the Orange Tree, when, to -his utter astonishment, they all lowly saluted and made way for him to -pass. He now remembered that he had not yet removed the orange-coloured -hairs from his arm, and, feeling himself indebted to this circumstance, -for his safety resolved to let them remain till he should be quite out of -the infernal forest. Dwelling fondly upon his hopes and brightening -prospects, the young morning sun found him entering Eisenac, where he was -greeted with a loud shout by a troop of boys, who seemed to recognise an -old acquaintance. Soon the boy crowd was augmented by a multitude of -citizens, who surrounded Ludolph, yelling like fiends, seized his bridle, -pinioned his arms, and saluted him with a dreadful volley of curses. -“Sorcerer, robber, demon!” rung in his ears in all directions, and, while -the uproar raged in its greatest violence, he was dragged from his horse, -and thrown on the ground. At this extraordinary treatment, the count -demanded to be conducted to the margrave, to the princess Margaret. He -was told that the court had quitted Eisenac, but they were resolved to -burn him alive in revenge for his treatment of their beloved princess, -and the noble count Ludolph, her destined husband. Solomon said, that -“fear is nothing else than a betraying the succours which reason -offereth;” and, in this case, it was most truly so, for the knight’s -agitation in the first part of the attack, had made him forget in time to -remove the orange-coloured hairs from his arm. Their last exclamation -had shewn him their mistake, and his own fatal imprudence. Now he found -that he was in danger of being burnt alive for the sins of the execrable -Dwarf, unless he could immediately free himself from the charm. “Hear -me, dear friends,” he cried, “I am truly the unhappy Ludolph, but your -eyes are bewitched by the sorceries of that abominable demon, and you see -me only under his resemblance; release my arms for one moment, and I will -convince you.” At this insult to their understandings, the wise men of -Eisenac set up a most tremendous howl, and were still more anxious to -collect faggots for his service. They kicked, buffeted, and reviled his -person till he was almost delirious with rage, and the foamings of his -indignation confirmed them in their belief that he really was, what he -appeared, the demon of the Orange Tree. During one of the pauses made by -his guards to listen to his earnest entreaties for a moment’s liberty, he -found means to disengage his hands from their grasp, tore open his -sleeve, and furiously rending away the slight bandage of hair, stood -before them in his own proper person. Astonishment for a moment tied up -the tongues of the assembly, but quickly recovering themselves before -Ludolph could gain time to explain, they declared it a new piece of -sorcery, and swore that the form of their gallant favourite should not -shield the wizard who they firmly believed was his murderer. The -magistrates and officers of Eisenac, aroused by the news of the seizure -of the demon Dwarf, had assembled upon the spot, and startled by the -wonders they now heard, trembled to think of the consequences of the -unbridled fury of the mob, should the story told by the equivocal knight -be really true. Anxious to avoid the spilling of innocent blood, they -proposed conveying him to prison, and awaiting the decision of the -margrave; but the people anticipated a sight, and rather than lose so -excellent a joke as that of roasting a sorcerer, they would willingly -have run the hazard of sacrificing even Ludolph himself. But the -magistrates, much to their honour, continued firm, and, through their -interference, poor Ludolph, who already felt the flames crackling under -him, with much difficulty obtained permission to say a few words to them -in defence. “Noble magistrates and discerning judges,” said the -mob-hunted count of Tecklenburgh, “I trust that you will believe that I -am really myself as I declare to you by my knighthood I am. As for the -Yellow Dwarf, a curse on him, I am his victim, not his ally; since it is -from his infernal enchantments, and still more infernal malice, all my -misfortunes have arisen. How you can for a moment imagine that I could -be his friend because I have been unlucky enough to appear under his -odious form, I am at a loss to imagine, since nobody surely can possibly -believe such a transformation to be a matter of choice.” The female part -of the audience perfectly agreed with the last observation of Ludolph, -and the magistrates, puzzled by the sincerity with which he had delivered -his remonstrance, determined to save him, at least from the fire and the -faggots. But, as the people had expected a show, thought the wise men of -Eisenac, “a show they must have,” or the consequences, they knew, of -their disappointment in an affair so essential to their well-being, might -not be entirely insignificant to their betters. So, while acquitting -him, in their consciences, of being the Yellow Dwarf, and forbidding the -animating use of fire and faggots, they condemned him to be put to the -ban, as a nobleman, for dabbling in a little private sorcery in -conjunction with the demon, in whose villainous shape he had just -appeared. No sooner was this righteous sentence pronounced against the -unlucky Ludolph, than he was seized by the soldiers and followed by all -the crowd, who, anxious to join in the fun, exhibited many a practical -witticism at his expense, and cracked all their superfluous jokes upon -his unfortunate person: then stripping him of his armour and knightly -accoutrements, and clothing him in raw and filthy goatskins, they set him -upon a sorry mule with his face toward the tail, and led him through the -town, the herald proclaiming before him, “We declare thy wife, if thou -hast one, a widow, thy children, if thou hast any, orphans, and we send -thee, in the name of the devil, to the four corners of the earth.” Thus -sent upon a long voyage, with such a friendly benediction, it would not -have been wonderful if the heart of the knight had sunk with his -circumstances, which any heart would have done except a Westphalian one, -but that was employed in swelling with indignation, and meditating the -best mode of returning the compliments of the Eisenac mobility. While -thus occupied, he heard a voice close to his ear, which whispered, -“Attend to my orders, and you are safe.” He looked earnestly in the -direction of the sound, and saw, to his infinite satisfaction, the dusky -face of his friend the gnome beneath the helmet of a soldier. “Let these -people continue to believe you the Yellow Dwarf,” continued the spirit; -“it is the only way to preserve you from suspicion in your real -character; here are the hairs which, in your haste, you threw away. -Resist not while I tie them round your arm, and leave the rest to me.” -Ludolph sat silent while, under the appearance of a new insult, his -instructor twisted the light band round his arm, and the shrieks of the -people a moment after announced that the charm had taken effect upon -their senses. “It is the sorcerer,” they cried, “the horrible -Dwarf—seize him, tear him, burn him!” But, for this time, their kind -intentions were completely frustrated, for the gnome, entering into the -sorry mule which carried the prisoner, communicated to his worn-out frame -such inconceivable vigour and rapidity, that a few minutes were -sufficient to bear his rider far beyond the pursuit of his enemies, who -remained in the market-place, staring after the beast and cursing the -Yellow Dwarf. The representative of that malignant little demon was -meanwhile receiving a few drops of a powerful cordial from the hand of -his friend the gnome of the mine, who politely apologised for not knowing -earlier the mischiefs into which his dear crony had fallen,—owing, -however, entirely to his own excessive carelessness, which he should -never have suspected. “And, in truth,” continued the friendly spirit, “I -concluded you were safe at the margrave’s court which is at Weimar, and -whither I had intended to follow you. Passing over Eisenac, I rested to -know the meaning of the tumult I witnessed, and was just in time to -rescue you from the rage of the mob, who would not have quitted their -prey, even after the soldiers should have set you at liberty. Here,” -continued the gnome, giving him a heavy bag of coin, a most welcome -present to a half-naked knight errant, “hasten to equip yourself -according to your rank, and lose no time in joining the court at Weimar, -where you must select a damsel to conclude the adventure ere Brunilda can -recover her liberty, or you be freed from the malice of the Yellow -Dwarf.” Ludolph heartily thanked his good friend, though he could not -help thinking it would have been as well if his assistance had been -tendered some few hours earlier. But still, better late than never, -thought the knight; and, though he received a few cuffs and many bitter -curses, yet hard words break no bones, and the cuffs he hoped one day to -repay with interest. In the interim his honour was preserved by the -contrivance of the gnome, as no man in Eisenac, no, not even the sapient -magistrates themselves, would ever believe the creature they had pounded -and worried so unmercifully, was any other than the Yellow Dwarf himself. -Receiving from his hands once more the magic girdle which he had lost in -the confusion, he bade farewell to the gnome, who promised to meet him in -the forest, when he should have obtained the magic scissors, upon which -their success depended; and after accoutring himself as became his -condition, not this time forgetting the three red hairs, he set forward -once more for the court of the margrave; and, he was by no means of a -melancholy complexion, his past misfortunes had no other effect upon his -spirits than elevating them to a joyous pitch for glee, that he had so -well escaped the dangers which he believed would have ended more -tragically. And thus gay, and hoping much from the future, he arrived, -without any further adventure, at the palace of Weimar. - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - - Ane gat a twist o’ the craig, - Ane gat a bunch o’ the wame, - Anither gat lam’d o’ a leg, - And syne he went bellowing hame. - -THE princess Margaret was overjoyed once more to see her Brunilda’s -lover, and she welcomed him with the sincerest regard. She listened with -burning indignation to the account of the Dwarf’s treatment of his -captives, and to such other parts of his history as he thought proper to -relate; for he carefully suppressed, in the presence of the court, his -adventures at Eisenac and his release by the gnome, lest the friendship -of this good-natured spirit should again subject him to the charge of -sorcery; and as he had already smelt fire at Eisenac, he was particularly -anxious to avoid so warm a reception elsewhere. He informed the good -princess that the girdle would only fit the damsel appointed by destiny -to break the enchantment, and of consequence all were anxious to try it. -Three of the most beautiful ladies in Misnia attempted, but strange to -relate, in vain, to fix on the magic cestus: it shrunk to nothing round -their forms, and Ludolph began again to tremble for the fate of his poor -Brunilda. In vain did the most prudish ladies of the court present their -slim forms to the girdle,—it would not meet around them. Several of -those who had been most rigid in their own conduct, and most bitterly -virtuous in regard to that of others, took the girdle with a devout air -and blushing modesty, that quite revived the hope of the Westphalian -knight. Alas! the cestus not only refused to clasp the waists of these -fair ones, but even flew right out of their hands the moment they touched -it; and this circumstance so disheartened Ludolph, that he foolishly -enough, ere above twenty ladies had made the attempt, gossiped out the -secret of its virtues in the delighted ear of the princess Margaret. -That good lady thought the joke too excellent to be confined to so few -persons; and there being among the unlucky twenty some whose beauty -rivalled that of her beloved Brunilda, she lost no time in publishing the -secret, which had the effect of making them all abhor Ludolph, and -defeating the plans he was so anxious to carry into effect; for now, not -a single woman acquainted with the virtue of the cestus would even try it -on, and, instead of laughing with the princess and Ludolph at the unlucky -discovery made by the twenty, they made, much to their honour, common -cause against them, and vowed to smother the mischievous knight whenever -they could conveniently catch hold of him. It required all the authority -of the margrave, who at this juncture arrived at Weimar from the camp, to -protect the unfortunate knight from their vengeance, who began to be as -much afraid of these beautiful destroying angels as he had been of the -fire-loving devils of Eisenac, or even the Yellow Dwarf himself. “Alas! -I am surely the most unfortunate of men,” said he to the margrave; “I -have been transformed to the detested shape of the Yellow Dwarf, for -wishing to deliver your sister out of his hands. I have been near -roasted alive for killing myself. I have been put to the ban for -suffering myself to be tormented by my powerful enemy, and now I am in -danger of being torn to pieces by the loveliest women in the world, only -for being anxious to find one virgin in their company. Ah, my poor -Brunilda! what will become of thee?” The margrave comforted the knight -with the assurance that he would certainly be successful, if he could but -prevail upon the ladies only to try on the girdle, and, in case of their -obstinacy, he advised him to put the magic scissors into the hands of -Brunilda herself, “For, if she be not worthy to use them,” said the proud -Frederic with the bitten cheek, “she is not worthy of liberty, nor the -tender love you bear her. For the other conditions, I fear we must -despair, since I do believe there is not a knight in my court, no not in -all the courts of Germany, that will accept the challenge; though against -mortal foes, they are the bravest men in the universe.” The margrave was -right. Each knight knew his own secret weakness too well to accept the -office, when the conditions were stated to them, no one being willing, as -they honestly avowed, to hazard an ignominious death, by disregarding the -injunctions of the gnome. There was not a man among them who had not, at -some time or other, offended by drunkenness, licentiousness, or breaking -heads in an unjust quarrel: indeed, with regard to the latter peccadillo: -it was scarcely possible, in the time of which I am treating, for it to -be otherwise, since not only disputes of chivalry, and all injuries, -whether public or private, were settled by the sword, even cases of -felony and suits of law were arranged by the same expeditious decision; -so that he of the strongest arm and stoutest heart infallibly gained his -cause, whether right or wrong, as his adversary could no longer contend, -either for reputation or property, after the dagger of mercy had been -struck into his heart, or drawn quietly across his throat. - -But, to return to our good Westphalian and his difficulties. After many -objections, disputings, hopings, and fearings, the margrave at last found -a salvo for Ludolph, and a stainless knight for the service of the king -of the oranges. This was his own son, a boy of ten years old, upon whom, -finding all other hope fail, he conferred the honour of knighthood, and -released him from his martial studies, in which the gallant child spent -all his time, and sent him to handle the shears of Atropus, and share in -the glory of shaving the orange-coloured beard of the execrable Dwarf. -The little knight Herman of Misnia was highly delighted by his admittance -to this post of honour, and attached himself fondly to his good cousin -Ludolph, who now began making preparations for his march. So great was -the terror inspired among the people by the Yellow Dwarf, that it was -with much difficulty he could collect troops sufficient to defend the son -of the margrave upon this voyage of discovery, as all the nobles, -knights, and regulars of Thuringia, were gone to the camp in daily -expectation of an attack from the emperor Albert, who, having just been -overreached in his views upon Bohemia, by his good cousin Henry of -Carinthia, was advancing in no good humour upon the troops of the -margrave of Misnia. After a proclamation of some days, in which Ludolph -puffed the vast riches of the diamond mine with almost as much skill as -Day and Martin puff their blacking, a number of strays from all parts of -the empire gathered themselves together under his standard; and though he -could not boast of commanding many of the nobles of Misnia, yet upon the -whole, his troop was about as respectable as David’s at the cave of -Adullam, when only those who were in debt, or distress, or discontented, -enrolled themselves in his service. But great endings spring from small -beginnings. From the captain of half-starved ragamuffins David became a -king; and Ludolph hoped that his regiment of black-guards would finally -conduct him to the feet of a princess. With this notion he set forward, -full of expectation, with the youthful knight committed to his charge. -On the road, fearful of any other delays, he inspired his companions by -dwelling, with affected rapture, upon the spoils of the diamonds, which -were so soon to be at their service, in the sack of the mine. These -observations acted like electricity upon his respectable warriors, and -sent them galloping toward the confines so rapidly, that before he had -either hoped or expected it, they had arrived at the foot of the mystic -mountain, where the whole troop made a halt, to await the return of -Ludolph, who, with his young companion, was to descend first into the -caves, seize the scissors, and then leave the coast clear for the -plunderers to attack the mine. Matters were soon settled. The two -knights found the entrance with some difficulty, and boldly descended -into these dismal abodes, the residence of the infernal spirits who were -in the pay of the Yellow Dwarf. After traversing many dreary caverns, -they entered the last, where, elevated on a golden pedestal, stood the -gigantic statue which held the scissors of fate, and was the guardian of -the life of the Yellow Dwarf. Forgetting, in his joy at the sight, the -caution of the gnome, he was advancing towards the statue, when a -tremendous box on the ear from the marble fist, taught him to know his -distance. He fell back accordingly, and, young Herman of Misnia -approaching, the statue grinned as hideously at his protégé, but made no -attempt to injure the boy, as fearlessly he climbed the pedestal, and, -without any regard to the rights of property, grasped the magic scissors, -and brought them back in triumph. Ludolph received them from his hands -with the wildest sensation of delight; but, prudence conquering his -emotions, he took his young preserver in his arms and retraced his way to -daylight. Here he was greeted with shouts of applause by the soldiers, -who, in spite of all the entreaties of Ludolph, persisted to ransack the -caves, pursuant to their original agreement. In vain did he assure them -the margrave’s enemies would furnish more spoils for them than the -vaults, and that his share should be divided among them. Vainly did he -describe the threatening looks of the statue, and assure them he still -felt the tingling of the marble thump in his ear, with which he had -complimented him. It was talking to the winds, or, as old Baker quaintly -saith, “to as little purpose as if he had gone about to call back -yesterday.” Down they all dashed together, neck and heels, with -tremendous outcries, into the diamond caverns. Their return was silent -and orderly enough. The cave of Trophonius could not have effected a -better or more expeditious change. They were all as grave as judges, and -every man appeared with his mouth twisted exactly under his left ear. -Ludolph could gain but little information as to what had befallen them; -all he understood was, that they had seen the statue, who had given the -first man such a thundering slap of the face that its shock was felt by -all the rest of his companions, and left the consequences which he now -beheld, and which they had such good reasons to deplore. But, while the -knights of the scissors and their wry-mouthed confederates are pursuing -their road to Weimar, let us pop our heads under ground and see what has -become of Brunilda. - -The poor princess, much disconcerted by the diabolical contrivance of the -Yellow Dwarf, gave way, when alone, to that indulgence of grief which she -resolutely suppressed in his presence. She had encouraged the visits of -the two Dwarfs, in the tender hope that, though they afforded no -consolation to herself, they might yield some satisfaction to the bosom -of her tormented lover. This being the real state of her feelings, she -was deeply distressed when, the day after Ludolph’s release by the gnome, -they neglected to pay her the customary visit, and therefore sent to -request the presence of her tyrant. He came, and in no very good humour, -for he had just failed in the effect of a spell, which he hoped would -discover the runaway. He told her, even more brutally than usual, that -Ludolph had escaped, that he was endeavouring to discover him, and that -in case he succeeded, of which he had no doubt, he would immediately hang -him, unless the princess would save his life by giving her hand to his -rival. Delighted by the escape of the knight, Brunilda could not keep -her joy to herself, but expressed it so imprudently, and with such -heartfelt glee at the Dwarf’s vexation, that it irritated all the bile in -his little yellow body, and provoked him to have recourse to his most -powerful spells to discover the abode of Ludolph. It was, luckily for -the knight, a work of time and difficulty, since the gnome of the mine -was at hand to unravel all his charms as fast as the other wrought them; -and he was, by this means, obliged to desist, in order to find the -invisible enemy who thus thwarted his plans and protected his victim. -The indefatigable gnome was still at his elbow, and poor yellow-beard -continued as much in the dark at the end of his spells, as he had been at -the beginning. All this gave the knight time, which was what the gnome -wanted, and the Dwarf remained in ignorance of his movements, till the -spirits, who were the guardians of his talisman in the mountain caves, -informed him of his danger and the seizure of the magic scissors. Such a -contrivance as that of knighting a child the demon never contemplated, -but finding one half of the adventure accomplished, he determined, as far -as in him lay, to prevent the achievement of the other. Learning by his -fiends, that he was threatened with danger from Brunilda, he made it his -principal care that the magic scissors should not be wielded by her, and -accordingly penned her up more closely than ever, surrounding her by -spells, not only inaccessible to mortals, but even to his own attendant -spirits, whom he would not trust too far, lest his tyranny should have -inspired them with hatred to his person, and laxity in his service. -Among his equals in the demon world he well knew, and feared the -indignation of the gnome of the silver mines, whose territories he had -invaded, and before whose power, if joined to that of other enemies, he -would have good reasons to tremble. These considerations determined his -conduct, and, to prevent Brunilda from handling the scissors, and the -scissors from approaching his beard, he devised a spell so potent, that -he fondly hoped and believed he was safe from the attacks of, and might -bid defiance to, all sorts of enemies, natural and supernatural. - -In the mean time, Ludolph and his companions had arrived at the court of -Weimar, to the great joy of the margrave and his mother, who, looking -upon the adventure as nearly finished, entreated Ludolph to lose no time -in joining his friend the gnome in the enchanted forest. He himself had -no wish to delay the business, and, after making one more unsuccessful -attempt to prevail upon the ladies of Misnia to try on the girdle, he set -off to present it to his lovely Brunilda: and, arriving near the Orange -Tree, was met by the friendly gnome. “It is not yet in my power to -introduce you to the presence of the princess,” said he to the count, “as -I have not yet conquered the spells by which our enemy has surrounded -her: the cavern is inaccessible at present to any human foot, but it is -not in the power of the demon to limit my steps in the territory of which -I am the legitimate lord. His spirits are as powerful as mine, and thus -I am obliged to have recourse to artifice to conquer him, which I should -not be able to effect, if he had not, by obtruding into my dominions, -placed the secret in my power. Unlike the free spirits who have existed -from the beginning of the world, and who will probably survive its -demolition, the Dwarf is mortal born, though, by magic spells, he has -lengthened his life many hundred years; but his birth subjects him to -death, which will be inevitable, should the infernal power by which he -has accomplished his purposes be defeated. To prevent this catastrophe, -he has placed his life in a talisman, which he believes unconquerable, -but which, I trust, we shall overthrow. Caution is, however, necessary, -for his spells are mighty, and the spirits subjected to his command are -many. In the interim you shall rest here, and I will provide for your -necessities till I shall be able to conduct you to Brunilda, to whom you -must explain the virtues of the scissors of fate, for, by an immutable -decree which no spirit dares violate, I am restrained from appearing -before her till she herself shall summon me.” The gnome then raised a -comfortable tent for Ludolph, loaded it with provisions, drew a line of -protection about it, and vanished. - -Three days passed tranquilly enough with Ludolph, while patiently -awaiting the re-appearance of his friend the gnome, but the fourth was -beginning to hang heavy, when the spirit entered the tent in the middle -of the night. “I triumph,” said he; “I have unloosed the spell that kept -you from the presence of Brunilda. The Dwarf, being mortal born, is -subject to mortal necessities, and at this hour he sleeps; rise and throw -yourself at the feet of the princess; give me your hand, and close your -eyes.” Ludolph obeyed, and the next moment found himself in the -apartment of Brunilda. As I, the honest chronicler of the loves of the -Westphalian knight and Misnian princess, am no great dealer in sentiment, -I shall omit all the particulars of the meeting, and only say how truly -happy Brunilda was to receive him, and how grateful she felt towards the -obliging gnome, whom she gladly summoned to her presence. To the great -relief of Ludolph, who trembled and doubted grievously while making the -proposal, she had not the slightest objection, even after she was made -acquainted with its virtues, to try on the enchanted girdle, which fitted -her graceful form as if it had been purposely made for her: her lover -could not help commending the taste of the Yellow Dwarf, and was as much -overjoyed at this earnest of success as if he held the demon’s beard in -his hand. The gnome then gave Brunilda the fatal scissors, and telling -them that the spirits of their enemy could not perceive them, from the -powerful spells by which they are surrounded, desired them to follow his -footsteps fearlessly to the inner caverns, where slept the demon, and -whom sleep would probably render defenceless. Stretching out their necks -and stepping on tiptoe, the lovers followed the gnome to the private -apartment of the Dwarf, whom Brunilda anxiously hoped to serve in quality -of barber extraordinary. With beating hearts they beheld their guide -throw open the door of his chamber, and desire the princess to advance, -at the same time approaching the couch of the demon, and drawing back his -curtain. Brunilda obeyed; mustering all her courage, and collecting a -little army of disagreeable remembrances to her aid, she found herself so -strengthened that, like Judith, she resolved to finish the business with -a single snip. But the Holofernes of Germany had had more wit than his -drunken predecessor, and had taken much better care of his shaggy head; -for the Judith of Misnia looked in vain for the yellow beard that was to -fall beneath the fatal scissors. That _that_ had disappeared was not -wonderful, since the face to which it formed such a remarkable appendage -had entirely vanished from the body. There lay the carcase of the Dwarf, -sleeping, it may be, but his head was dozing in some other place, for the -body was very quietly reposing without it. Poor Brunilda shed tears of -vexation, and the gnome looked silly enough to find himself thus -completely outwitted; but knowing that he could find no remedy for the -disappointment by standing gaping at the demon’s trunk, he drew the -lovers from the chamber, conducted Ludolph back to his tent, and again -had recourse to his spells, which told him that the Dwarf, fearful of -surprise while disarmed by sleep, took off his head every night, and -concealed it in some place of safety, but where he could not discover. -This was a vexatious incident; but “_ruse contre ruse_,” thought the -gnome, and to work he went with a fresh resolution to outspell the yellow -conjuror and liberate the lovers. In the mean time the demon awoke from -his invigorating slumber, and hastened to replace his ugly head upon his -shoulders, and then, head and tail once more united, sat down to consider -the possibility of recapturing the knight of Tecklenburgh, in whose -hands, notwithstanding the success of his spells, he did not like to -leave the magic scissors. Brunilda, it is true, was safe enough; but the -Dwarf knew (though Ludolph could not discover them) that there were more -virgins than one in the Misnian court; and that the count wanted neither -eloquence to persuade such to assist him, nor resolution to attack his -enemy, when that difficulty should be conquered. In the midst of these -cogitations he was aroused by a summons from the princess, who had not -permitted him to approach her since the day after Ludolph’s departure: -the little coxcomb was enchanted by the message, and hastened to arrange -his look in the most becoming manner possible, ere he presented himself -before the eyes of his lovely captive. Brunilda was in tears when he -entered her apartment, and no sooner did she behold him than she poured -upon him such a torrent of reproach and abuse, that the Dwarf, though in -general tolerably well skilled in the use of that cutting weapon the -tongue, stood utterly confounded, and knew not what to reply. She -accused him vehemently of the murder of her lover, her dear Ludolph, -which secret she said, had been revealed to her in a dream by her patron -saint that very night, and she had therefore sent to him to accuse him to -his guilty face. The Dwarf listened in surprise; but this time far from -retorting with the usual bitterness upon Brunilda, he was hugging himself -in the notion that the patron saint might have told the truth, and that -Ludolph, whom all his arts had failed to discover, might really be no -longer an inhabitant of the earth, in which case he flattered himself he -might possibly succeed him in the affections of the fair Brunilda, whose -hand he coveted no less than her brother’s lands, of which he resolved to -dispossess him whenever he should become the husband of his sister. Full -of these agreeable hopes and ideas, he soothed the weeping princess as -well as the ruggedness of his nature would permit, and assured her, that -though her lover was dead, (a circumstance of which he averred he was -well aware, though compassion had hitherto prevented his informing her,) -yet he had no hand in his death, and would endeavour by every mark of -tenderness and attention to reconcile her to this inevitable loss. -Brunilda suffered herself to be comforted, and even allowed his yellow -lips to press her fair hand, which so delighted the lover, that he -released her from her severe confinement, and permitted her to roam at -large through the caverns, and occupy her former apartment, where he -continued to visit her daily, and daily quitted her with the flattering -hope that he had at length discovered the mode of making himself -agreeable. Brunilda encouraged this delightful dream by her changed -method of conduct; she ceased, after the first two interviews, entirely -to reproach the Dwarf, and permitting his devotions, she gradually -appeared to desire them, and even frequently condescended to rally him -upon the oddity of his dress, and the old-fashioned cut of his hood: he -immediately adopted another to gratify her taste, and was exceedingly -vain of the notice she took of him. She admired his flowing hair, and -even his long beard had ceased to be an object of disgust to her: every -thing became beautiful by custom, she said; and she now discovered, what -her indignation before had prevented her from observing, that the colour -of his beard was the same as that of her great grandfather the emperor -Frederic II., who was universally accounted a very handsome man. The -Dwarf smirked, bridled, and was equally delighted with Brunilda and -himself, since he now hoped no further opposition on her part would be -offered to his proposals: he grew excessively fond of, and very indulgent -to the princess, suffering her to command in his caverns, and taking -great delight in exhibiting to her the riches of which she was so soon to -be mistress. In all ages, among all nations, flattery has ever been the -shortest and surest road to the human heart; and men, however they may -affect to smile at this weakness in the gentler sex, are not, whether -giants, middle-sized men, or dwarfs, one whit less subject to this poor -human frailty than the ladies themselves, in whom it is so pardonable. - -If Eve yielded to the compliments of the serpent, Sampson was subdued by -the witching coaxing of Delilah; the sage Solomon drank flattery from the -lips of seven hundred wives (Heaven pardon the old monopoliser!) and -concubines; Holofernes lost his head for listening to the seducing tongue -of Judith; and the mighty Nebuchadnezzar was not sent to grass for any -other reason than swallowing down too plentiful a dose of this bewitching -opiate: of all these gentlefolks, Eve was certainly least blameable; for -it required diabolical power to turn her from the path of right, but the -men sunk their virtue before the lustre of black eyes or the gorgeousness -of costly attire. As for profane story—O the tens and the fifties that -might be enumerated!—but as this is not our present business, let us -leave them to see what effect this pleasant medicine, so gently -administered, had upon the little Dwarf. He was, in truth, the happiest -of all yellow men; for, deceived by the tranquillity of his life and the -strength of his spells, he believed his enemy had given up the task of -conquering him, and left him to wear his beard in quiet. Brunilda still -continued amiable, and heard him frequently, without any marks of -indignation, express his hope that, when the time of her sorrowful -mourning for the count of Tecklenburgh should be over, she would listen -with compassion to a truer lover. She neither checked nor encouraged -these expectations; and the happy demon determined not to forfeit her -affections by any precipitation on his part. All this amiable conduct, -however, on the part of Brunilda, was in fact but a contrivance of the -friendly gnome, who thus hoped to extort by her means the secret of his -nightly pillow from himself. According to the plan agreed upon by the -allies, the gnome, at this period of his enemy’s courtship, began again -to disturb and puzzle him by his enchantments; and he succeeded in -discomposing the harmony of his feelings so much, that he was obliged to -have recourse to Brunilda, and (secure of her attachment to his person) -vent all his complaints and vexations in her compassionating bosom. -_She_ was all astonishment at the cruel designs projected against her -Dwarf by his ungenerous enemies; she implored him pathetically to take -care of his head, (a request with which he graciously promised to comply, -more for her sake than his own,) and exhibited such anxiety to know if -his precautions were sufficient, that the Dwarf almost betrayed his -secret, overcome by the excessive vanity her conduct was so well -calculated to inspire. Relaxing from his habitual caution, he was about -to inform her of some arrangements of his spells, when Brunilda, -overacting the part assigned to her, entreated him, if he valued her -happiness, to commit his precious head every night to her keeping, -promising to guard it with the utmost tenderness and care. At this -imprudent request, all his suspicions returned; he eyed Brunilda askance, -and gravely told her that, even were she his bride, he could not grant -her desire, as it had always been his opinion that the less wives were -trusted with the care of their husbands’ heads the better. He left her -surlily: he had himself told her of his headless rest, but he did not -expect such a request would follow his information; and Brunilda, alarmed -by the consequences of her ill-timed petition, summoned the gnome of the -mine to her presence. He chid her precipitation, but gave her a small -vial containing a delicious cordial, which should repair the mischief. -“You may have observed,” said he, “that the Dwarf neither eats nor drinks -of your food: prevail upon him once to sup at your table, and pour a few -drops of this cordial into his drink: he must take it willingly, or it -will have no effect. In the sleep which follows the enchanted draught, -he will be partly in my power, and compelled to answer any question you -may propose to him. I need not direct you what to ask; but should he -reply according to our wishes, summon me to your side, and the business -is done.” The gnome gave her the potion, and vanished; while Brunilda -diligently applied herself to remove the suspicions of the Dwarf. In a -few days she completely succeeded; and the flattered demon, on hearing -her frequently complain of the insipidity of supping alone, requested -permission to attend her at table during her supper. This request was -readily granted, and the visit constantly repeated by the Dwarf, who at -length, at her earnest entreaty, consented to partake of her repast. -This was continued till all suspicion was removed from the mind of the -Dwarf; and in one of his happiest moods she insisted upon his pledging -her in wine: he obeyed, and, with the contents of the bowl, swallowed the -magic cordial. With what anxiety did Brunilda count the hours till she -deemed the Dwarf had retired to rest; how she trembled as she quitted her -chamber for that of her tyrant, whose beard, ere day-break, she hoped, -would be the reward of her courage! With a beating heart she entered his -apartment, and stepping up to him, demanded in a trembling voice—“Dwarf -of the Orange Tree where hast thou hidden thy head?” The stubborn -carcase made no reply to this straight-forward question; and Brunilda -shivered from head to foot as she considered the possibility of his not -yet being asleep, and both hearing and understanding her question. -“Should it be so, I am indeed utterly undone,” said poor Brunilda; “for -how shall I be able to deceive him again, since he must now be aware of -my motives.” Another reflection brought more comfort: she recollected, -that as the head only can hear, so the head only can answer questions; -and she determined to walk quietly through all the caverns, and repeat -the question in each. She had but a short time allowed her for action, -as the Dwarf was an early riser, and she lost none in putting her scheme -into execution. Away she sallied, quick as anxiety would allow her; -unwearied she pursued her task, but ranged through every apartment of the -subterranean palace without obtaining an answer. She almost thought the -Dwarf had removed his head further off, when, passing through a -dismal-looking hole in which were two iron pillars, she paused to repeat -the charm—“Dwarf of the Orange Tree, where hast thou hidden thy head?” -“Here,” replied a well-known voice; “here, in the pillar on your left -hand.” Brunilda started at the sound, but quickly recovered her spirits, -and turning to the east, summoned, as agreed upon, her coadjutors to her -assistance—“Gnome of this mine, I call thee hither: bring with thee my -lover, and the magic scissors of fate.” In the next instant her friends -were at her side, and the scissors glittered in her hand. She explained -in few words the happy result of her enterprise; the gnome struck the -pillar with his mace, the massy substance divided, and the ugly head of -her detested jailer rolled at the feet of the delighted Brunilda, who, -without any apology, seized it and began most nimbly to ply the magic -scissors. At that moment, the Dwarf, awakened by the near approach of -morning, flew to replace his head upon his shoulders, and discovered, -with the utmost rage and alarm, the intruders upon his premises. The -opened eyes of the head now directed the motions of the body, which -rushed forward and bounced upon them so suddenly, that Brunilda shrieked -and dropped the head, only retaining a grasp of the beard. The Dwarf as -nimbly caught it, and endeavoured to wrest it from her; but the princess, -invigorated by despair and the exclamations of her friends, kept fast -hold of it, and struggled stoutly with the demon. The gnome lent her his -assistance, in holding the head for her scissors, while Ludolph kept -shoving, thrusting, and hacking with his sword at the invulnerable demon, -in the hope of obliging him to loosen his grasp of his head. The -struggle continued some minutes, the Dwarf pulling, Ludolph shoving, and -Brunilda, utterly regardless of the scratches he was liberally bestowing -upon her lover, cutting away at the yellow beard with all her might and -main. At length she observed, that the longer she cut the weaker grew -the resistance of the demon, and this gave new force to her delicate -fingers; she snipped on till the last hair was separated from the chin, -and the yellow head and deformed body both fell senseless together upon -the ground. Brunilda was quietly looking upon her fallen enemy, when the -magic instrument of her success suddenly sprung from her hand, and she -beheld the scissors of fate gliding away rapidly through the air, as if -borne off by an invisible spirit. The friendly gnome then conducted the -lovers to the margrave’s court, (after demanding from Brunilda the magic -belt, which he said would be too dangerous a weapon in the hand of a -lady,) and a few weeks after the battle of Luckow, in which the margrave -was successful, they were united, to the great joy of all parties, but -more particularly of those who expected to be invited to the wedding -dinner. But that dinner! O that dinner! why what a glory of gastronomy -were the dishes! There was the porpoise stewed in his own oil; beeves -roasted whole; and proudly pre-eminent, even among them, the noble wild -boar, the standard dish of Germany, showed his grinning tusks, now no -longer formidable; roasted cranes, standing upon their long legs, seemed -just stepping out of their platters, making a “pretty drollery;” there -was the knightly peacock, the bird of chivalry, dressed out in his -brilliant feathers; the stately swan, sailing about in his golden dish; -while herons, turkeys, geese, and such small fry graced the magnificent -board in quality of side dishes. In short, as the newspapers said, -“there were all the delicacies of the season,” which the nobles washed -down with floods of Rhenish, until they did not know what they were -swallowing. The day was happier than it was long, for all thought its -felicity was too short-lived, except Ludolph and his princess, who had -many still brighter; as long years of happiness was the reward of the few -months of suffering. The gnome of the mine returned to his recovered -territories, and, as he had now no farther occasion for their services, -never since that time interfered in the concerns of mortals. The -princess Margaret lived to a good old age, and died at last in the odour -of sanctity, eschewing evil, Satan, sin, and the yellow Demon of the -Orange Tree. - - - - -DER FREISCHUTZ: -OR, -THE MAGIC BALLS. - - - FROM THE GERMAN OF A. APEL. - - Black spirits and white, - Blue spirits and grey, - Mingle, mingle, mingle, - You that mingle may. - -“LISTEN, dear wife,” said Bertram, the forester of Lindenhayn, to his -good and faithful Anne; “listen, I beseech you, one moment. You know I -have ever done my utmost to make you happy, and will still continue to do -so; but this project is out of the question. I entreat you, do not -encourage the girl any farther in the notion; settle the matter decidedly -at once, and she will only drop a few silent tears, and then resign -herself to my wishes; but by these silly delays nothing rational can be -effected.” - -“But, dearest husband,” objected the coaxing wife, “may not Catherine be -as happy with William the clerk as with Robert the gamekeeper? Indeed -you do not know him: he is so clever, so good, so kind—” - -“But no marksman,” interrupted the forester. “The situation which I hold -here has been possessed by my family for more than two hundred years, and -has always descended down in a straight line from father to son. If, -instead of this girl, Anne, you had brought me a boy, all would have been -well; and the wench, if she had been in existence, might have chosen for -her bridegroom him whom she loved best; now the thing is impossible. My -son-in-law must also be my successor, and must therefore be a marksman. -I shall have, in the first place, some trouble to obtain the trial for -him; and in the second, if he should not succeed, truly, I shall have -thrown my girl away: so a clever huntsman she shall have. But observe, -if you do not like him, I do not exactly insist upon Robert: find another -active clever fellow for the girl, I will resign my situation to him, and -we shall pass the rest of our lives free from anxiety and happily with -our children. But hush!—not another word!—I beseech you let me hear no -more of the steward’s clerk.” - -Mother Anne was silenced; she would fain have said a few more words in -favour of poor William, but the forester, who was too well acquainted -with the power of female persuasion, gave her no further opportunity; he -took down his gun, whistled his dog, and strode away to the forest. The -next moment, the fair curled head of Catherine, her face radiant with -smiles, was popped in at the door—“Is all right, dear mother?” said she. -“Alas! no, my child; do not rejoice too soon;” replied the sorrowing -Anne. “Your father speaks kindly, but he has determined to give you to -nobody but a huntsman; and I know he will not change his mind.” -Catherine wept, and declared she would sooner die than wed any other than -her own William. Her mother wept, fretted, and scolded by turns; till at -length it was finally determined to make another grand attack upon the -tough heart of old Bertram; and in the midst of a deliberation respecting -the manner in which this was to be effected, the rejected lover entered -the apartment. - -When William had heard the cause of the forester’s objection,—“Is that -all, my Catherine,” said he, pressing the weeping girl to his bosom; -“then keep up your spirits, dearest, for I will myself become a forester. -I am not unacquainted with woodcraft, for I was, when a boy, placed under -the care of my uncle, the chief forester Finsterbuch, in order to learn -it, and only at the earnest request of my uncle the steward, I exchanged -the shooting-pouch for the writing-desk. Of what use,” continued the -lover, “would his situation and fine house be to me, if I cannot carry my -Catherine there as the mistress of it? If you are not more ambitious -than your mother, dearest, and William the gamekeeper will be as dear to -you as William the steward, I will become a woodsman directly; for the -merry life of a forester is more delightful to me than the constrained -habits of the town.” - -“O dear, dear William,” said Catherine,—all the dark clouds of sorrow -sweeping rapidly over her countenance, and leaving only a few drops of -glittering sunny rain, sparkling in her sweet blue eyes,—“O beloved -William! if you will indeed do this, all may be well: hasten to the -forest, seek my father, and speak to him ere he have time to pass his -word to Robert.” “Away,” replied William, “to the forest; I will seek -him out, and offer my services as gamekeeper: fear nothing, Catherine; -give me a gun, and now for the huntsman’s salute.” - -What success he had in his undertaking was soon visible to the anxious -eye of Catherine, on her father’s return with him from the forest. “A -clever lad, that William,” said the old man; “who would have expected -such a shot in a townsman? I’ll speak to the steward myself to-morrow; -it would be a thousand pities such a marksman should not stick to the -noble huntsman craft. Ha! ha! he will become a second Kuno. But do you -know who Kuno was?” demanded he of William. - -The latter replied in the negative. - -“Look you there now!” ejaculated Bertram; “I thought I had told you long -since. He was my ancestor, the first who possessed this situation. He -was originally a poor horseboy in the train of the knight of Wippach; but -he was clever, obliging, grew a favourite, and attended his master every -where, to tournaments and hunting parties. Once his knight accompanied -the duke on a grand hunting match, at which all the nobles attended. The -hounds chased a huge stag towards them, upon whose back, to their great -astonishment, sat tied a human being, shrieking aloud in a most frightful -manner. There existed at that period, among the feudal lords, an inhuman -custom of tying unhappy wretches who incurred their displeasure (perhaps -by slight transgressions against the hunting laws) upon stags, and then -driving them into the forest to perish miserably by hunger, or at least -to be torn to pieces by the brambles. The duke was excessively enraged -at this sight, and offered immense rewards to any one who would shoot the -stag; but clogged his benefactions with death to the marksman, should his -erring bullet touch the victim, whose life he was desirous to preserve, -in order to ascertain the nature of his offence. Startled by the -conditions, not one of the train attempted the rescue of the poor wretch, -till Kuno, pitying his fate, stepped forward and boldly offered his -services. The duke having accepted them he took his rifle, loaded it in -God’s name, and earnestly recommending the ball to all the saints and -angels in heaven, fired steadily into the bush in which he believed the -stag had taken refuge. His aim was true; the animal instantly sprung -out, plunged to the earth, and expired; but the poor culprit escaped -unhurt, except that his hands and face were miserably torn by the briers. -The duke kept his word well, and gave to Kuno and his descendants for -ever this situation of forester. But envy naturally follows merit, and -my good ancestor was not long in making the discovery. There were many -of the duke’s people who had an eye to this situation, either for -themselves or some cousin or dear friend, and these persuaded their -masters that Kuno’s wonderful success was entirely owing to sorcery; upon -which, though they could not turn him out of his post, they obtained an -order that every one of his descendants should undergo a trial of his -skill before he could be accepted; but which, however, the chief forester -of the district, before whom the essay is made, can render as easy or -difficult as he pleases. I was obliged to shoot a ring out of the beak -of a wooden bird, which was swung backwards and forwards; but I did not -fail, any more than my forefathers; and he who intends to succeed me, and -wed my Catherine, must be at least as good a marksman.” - -William, who had listened very attentively, was delighted with this piece -of family history; he seized the old man’s hand, and joyously promised to -become, under his direction, the very first of marksmen; such as even -grandfather Kuno himself should have no cause to blush for. - -Scarcely had fourteen happy days passed over his head, ere William was -settled as gamekeeper in the forester’s house; and Bertram, who became -fonder of him every day, gave his formal consent to his engagement with -Catherine. It was, however, agreed that their betrothment should be kept -secret until the day of the marksman’s trial, when the forester expected -to give a greater degree of splendour to his family festival by the -presence of the duke’s commissary. The bridegroom swam in an ocean of -delight, and so entirely forgot himself and the whole world in the sweet -opening heaven of love, that Bertram frequently insisted, that he had not -been able to hit a single mark since he had aimed so successfully at -Catherine. - -And so it really was. From the day of his happy betrothment, William had -encountered nothing but disasters while shooting. At one time his gun -missed fire; at another, when he aimed at a deer, he lodged the contents -of his rifle in the trunk of a tree: when he came home, and emptied his -shooting-pouch, instead of partridges, rooks and crows, and in lieu of -hares, dead cats. The forester at length grew seriously angry, and -reproved him harshly for his carelessness: even Catherine began to -tremble for the success of the master-shot. - -William redoubled his diligence, but to no purpose; the nearer the -approach of the important day, the more alarming grew his misfortunes; -every shot missed. At length he was almost afraid to fire a gun, lest he -should do some mischief; for he had already lamed a cow and almost killed -the cowherd. - -“I insist upon it,” said the gamekeeper Rudolph, one evening, to the -party, “I insist upon it that some wizard has bewitched William, for such -things could not happen naturally; therefore let us endeavour to loosen -the charm.”—“Superstitious stuff!” interrupted Bertram, angrily; “an -honest woodsman should not even think of such trash. Do you forget the -three things which a forester ought to have, and with which he will -always be successful, in spite of sorcery? Come, to your wits, answer my -query.” “That can I truly,” answered Rudolph; “he should have great -skill, a keen dog, and a good gun.” “Enough,” said Bertram; “with these -three things every charm may be loosened, or the owner of them is a dunce -and no shot.” - -“Under favour, father Bertram,” said William, “here is my gun; what have -you to object against it? and as for my skill, I do not like to praise -myself, but I think I am as fair a sportsman as any in the country; -nevertheless, it seems as if all my balls went crooked, or as if the wind -blew them away from the barrel of my gun. Only tell me what I shall do. -I am willing to do any thing.” “It is singular,” muttered the forester, -who did not know what else to say. - -“Believe me, William,” again began Rudolph, “it is nothing but what I -have said. Try only once: go on a Friday, at midnight, to a cross road, -and make a circle round you with the ramrod, or with a bloody sword, -which must be blessed three times, in the name of Sammiel.”—“Silence!” -interrupted Bertram, angrily: “know ye whose name that is? he is one of -the fiend’s dark legion. God protect us and every Christian from him!” -William crossed himself devoutly, and would hear nothing further, though -Rudolph still maintained his opinion. He passed the night in cleaning -his gun, and examining minutely every screw, resolving, at dawn of day -once more to sally forth, and try his fortune in the forest. He did so, -but, alas! in vain. Mischiefs thickened round him: at ten paces distance -he fired three times at a deer; twice his gun missed fire, and although -it went off the third time, yet the stag bounded away unhurt into the -midst of the forest. Full of vexation, he threw himself under a tree, -and cursed his fate, when suddenly a rustling was heard among the bushes, -and a queer-looking soldier with a wooden leg came hopping out from among -them. - -“Holloa! huntsman,” he began, laughing at the disconsolate-looking -William, “what is the matter with you? Are you in love, or is your purse -empty, or has any body charmed your gun? Come, don’t look so blank; give -me a pipe of tobacco, and we’ll have a chat together.” - -William sullenly gave him what he asked, and the soldier threw himself -down in the grass by the side of him. The conversation naturally turned -upon woodcraft, and William related his misfortunes to him. “Let me see -your gun,” said the soldier. William gave it. “It is assuredly -bewitched,” said he of the wooden leg, the moment he had taken it in his -hand; “you will not be able to fire a single shot with it; and if they -have done it according to rule, it will be the same with every gun you -shall take into your hands.” - -William was startled; he endeavoured to raise objections against the -stranger’s belief in witches, but the latter offered to give him a proof -of the justice of his opinions. “To us soldiers,” said he, “there is -nothing strange; and I could tell you many wonderful things, but which -would detain us here till night. But look here, for instance: this is a -ball which is sure of hitting its mark, because it possesses some -particular virtue: try it; you won’t miss.” William loaded his gun, and -looked around for an object to aim at. A large bird of prey hovered high -above the forest, like a moving dot;—“Shoot that kite,” said the -one-legged companion. William laughed at his absurdity, for the bird was -hovering at a height which the eye itself could scarcely reach. “Laugh -not, but fire,” said the other, grimly; “I will lay my wooden leg that it -falls.” William fired, the black dot sunk, and a huge kite fell bleeding -to the ground. “You would not be surprised at that,” said he of the -wooden leg to the huntsman, who was speechless and staring with -astonishment; “you would not, I repeat, be surprised at that, if you were -better acquainted with the wonders of your craft. Even the casting such -balls as these is one of the least important things in it; it merely -requires dexterity and courage, because it must be done in the night. I -will teach you for nothing when we meet again; now I must away, for the -bell has told seven. In the mean time—here, try a few of my balls; still -you look incredulous—well—till we meet again.”— - -The soldier gave William a handful of balls, and departed. Full of -astonishment, and still distrusting the evidence of his senses, the -latter tried another of the balls, and again struck an almost -unattainable object: he loaded his gun in the usual manner, and again -missed the easiest! He darted forward to follow the crippled soldier, -but the latter was no longer in the forest; and William was obliged to -remain satisfied with the promise which he had given of meeting him again -hereafter. - -Great joy it gave to the honest forester when William returned, as -before, loaded with game from the forest. He was now called upon to -explain the circumstance; but not being prepared to give a reason, and -above all, dreading to say any thing upon the subject of his infallible -balls, he attributed his ill luck to a fault in his gun, which he had -only, he pretended, last night discovered and rectified. “Did I not tell -you so, wife,” said Bertram, laughing. “Your demon was lodged in the -barrel; and the goblin which threw down father Kuno this morning, sat -grinning, on the rusty nail.” “What say you of a goblin,” demanded -William; “and what has happened to father Kuno?” “Simply this,” replied -Bertram: “his portrait fell of itself from the wall this morning, just as -the bell tolled seven; and the silly woman settled it that a goblin must -be at the bottom of the mischief, and that we are haunted accordingly.” - -“At seven,” repeated William, “at seven!” and he thought, with a strange -feeling of affright, of the soldier who parted from him exactly at that -moment. “Yes, seven,” continued Bertram, still laughing. “I do not -wonder at your surprise; it is not a usual ghostly hour, but Anne would -have it so.” The latter shook her head doubtfully, and prayed that all -might end well; while William shivered from head to foot, and would -secretly have vowed not to use the magic balls, but that the thought of -his ill luck haunted him. “Only one of them,” said he, internally; “only -one of them for the master-shot, and then I have done with them for -ever.” But the forester urged him the next instant to accompany him into -the forest; and he dared not excite fresh suspicions of his want of -skill, nor offend the old man by refusing, he was again compelled to make -use of his wondrous balls; and in the course of a few days he had so -accustomed himself to the use of them, and so entirely reconciled his -conscience to their doubtful origin, that he saw nothing sinful or even -objectionable in the business. He constantly traversed the forest, in -the hope of meeting the strange giver of the balls; for the handful had -decreased to two, and if he wished to make sure of the master-shot, the -utmost economy was necessary. One day he even refused to accompany -Bertram, for the next was to be the day of trial, and the chief forester -was expected; it was possible he might require other proofs than the mere -formal essay, and William thus felt himself secure. But in the evening, -instead of the commissary, came a messenger from the duke, with an order -for a large delivery of game, and to announce that the visit of the chief -forester would be postponed for eight days longer. - -William felt as if he could have sunk into the bosom of the earth, as he -listened to the message, and his excessive alarm would have excited -strange suspicions, if all present had not been ready to ascribe it to -the delay of his expected nuptials. He was now obliged to sacrifice at -least one of his balls, but he solemnly swore nothing should rob him of -the other but the forester’s master-shot. - -Bertram was outrageously angry when William returned from the forest with -only one stag; for the delivery order was considerable. He was still -more angry the next day at noon, when Rudolph returned loaded with an -immense quantity of game, and William returned with none; he threatened -to dismiss him, and retract his promise respecting Catherine, if he did -not bring down at least two deer on the following day. Catherine was in -the greatest consternation, and earnestly besought him to make use of his -utmost skill, and not let a thought of her interrupt his duties while -occupied in the forest. He departed—his heart loaded with despair. -Catherine, he saw too plainly, was lost to him for ever; and nothing -remained but the choice of the manner in which he should destroy his -happiness. Whilst he stood lost in the agonising anticipation of his -impending doom, a herd of deer approached close to him. Mechanically he -felt for his last ball; it felt tremendously heavy in his hand: he was on -the point of dropping it back, resolving to preserve his treasure at -every hazard, when suddenly he saw—O sight of joy!—the one-legged soldier -approaching. Delightedly he let the ball drop into the barrel, fired, -brought down a brace of deer, and hastened forward to meet his friend; -but he was gone! William could not discover him in the forest. - -“Hark ye, William!” said the forester to him in the evening, rousing him -from the torpor of grief into which he had fallen; “you must resent this -affront as earnestly as myself: nobody shall dare utter falsehoods of our -ancestor Kuno, nor accuse him as Rudolph is now doing. I insist,” -continued he, turning again to the latter, “if good angels helped him, -(which was very likely, for in the Old Testament we frequently read of -instances of their protection,) we ought to be grateful, and praise the -wonderful goodness of God. But nobody shall accuse Kuno of practising -the black art. He died happily—ay, and holily, in his bed, surrounded by -children and grandchildren,—which he who carries on a correspondence with -the evil one never does. I saw a terrible example of that myself, when I -was a forester’s boy in Bohemia.” - -“Let us hear how it happened, good Bertram,” said all the listeners; and -the forester nodded gravely, and continued. - -“I shiver when I think of it; but I will tell you nevertheless. When a -young man practising with other youths under the chief foresters, there -used frequently to join us a town lad, a fine daring fellow, who, being a -great lover of field sports, came out to us as often as he could. He -would have made a good marksman, but was too flighty and thoughtless, so -that he frequently missed his mark. Once, when we ridiculed his -awkwardness, we provoked him into a rage, and he swore by all that was -holy that he would fire with a more certain aim than any gamekeeper in -the country, and that no animal should escape him, either in the air or -on the earth. But he kept his light oath badly. A few days afterward an -unknown huntsman roused us early, and told us that a man was lying in the -road and dying without assistance. It was poor Schmid. He was covered -with wounds and blood, as if he had been torn by wild beasts: he could -not speak, for he was quite senseless, with scarcely any appearance of -life. He was conveyed to Prague, and just before his death declared, -that he had been out with an old mountain huntsman to the cross road, in -order to cast the magic balls, which are sure of hitting their mark; but -that making some fault or omission, the demon had treated him so roughly -that it would cost him his life.” - -“Did he not explain?” asked William, shuddering. - -“Surely,” replied the forester. “He declared before a court of justice, -that he went out to the cross road with the old gamekeeper; that they -made a circle with a bloody sword, and afterwards set it round with -skulls and bones. The mountain hunter then gave his directions to Schmid -as to what he was to do: he was to begin when the clock struck eleven to -cast the balls, and neither to cast more nor fewer than sixty-three; one -either above or under this number would, when the bell tolled midnight, -be the cause of his destruction: neither was he to speak a single word -during his work, nor move from the circle whatever might happen, above, -below, or around him. Fulfilling these conditions sixty balls would be -sure of hitting, and the remaining three only would miss. Schmid had -actually begun casting the balls when, according to what we could gather -from him, he saw such cruel and dreadful apparitions, that he at length -shrieked and sprung out of the circle, falling senseless to the ground; -from which trance he did not recover till under the hands of the -physician in Prague.” - -“Heaven preserve us!” said the forester’s wife, crossing herself. “It is -a very deadly sin undoubtedly,” pursued Bertram, “and a true woodsman -would scorn such a practice. He needs nothing but skill, and a good gun, -as you have lately experienced, William. I would not, for my own part, -fire off such balls for any price; I should always fear the fiend would, -at some time or other, conduct the ball to his own mark instead of to -mine.” - -Night drew round them with the conclusion of the forester’s story. _He_ -went to his quiet bed, but William remained in restless agony. It was in -vain that he attempted to compose himself. Sleep fled entirely from his -spirit. Strange objects flitted past him, and hovered like dark omens -over his pillow. The strange soldier of the forest, Schmid, Catherine, -the duke’s commissary, all rushed before his eyes, and his fevered -imagination converted them into the most dreadful groups. Now, the -miserable Schmid stood warningly before him, and hollowly pointed to his -newly bleeding wounds; then the dark distorted face faded to the pallid -features of Catherine wrestling with the strength of death; while the -wild soldier of the forest stood mocking his agony with a hellish laugh -of scorn. The scene then changed to his mind, and he stood in the forest -before the commissary, preparing for the master-shot. He -aimed—fired—missed. Catherine sunk down on the earth. Bertram drove him -away; while the one-legged soldier, now again a friend, brought him fresh -balls; but too late—the trial was over, and he was lost. - -In this manner wore away the agonised night, and with the earliest dawn -he sought the forest, hoping to meet with the soldier; the clear morning -air chased away the dark images of sleep from his brow, and ennerved his -drooping spirit. “Fool!” said he to himself, “because I cannot -understand what is mysterious, must the mystery therefore be a sin? Is -what I seek so contrary to nature that it requires the aid of spirits to -obtain it? Does not man govern the mighty instinct of animals, and make -them move according to the will of their master? Why then should we not -be able, by natural means, to command the course of inanimate metal which -receives force and motion only through him? Nature is rich in wonders -which we do not comprehend, and shall I forfeit my happiness for an -ignorant prejudice only? No! Spirits I will not call upon, but nature -and her hidden powers I will challenge and use, even though unable to -explain its mystery. I will seek the soldier, and, if I cannot find him, -I will at least be bolder than Schmid, for I have a better cause. He was -urged by presumption, I by love and honour.” - -But the soldier appeared not, however earnestly William sought him; -neither could any of those of whom he inquired give the slightest -information respecting him, and two days were wasted in these anxious and -fruitless inquiries. - -“Then be it so,” exclaimed the unhappy young man; and in a fit of despair -he resolved to cast the magic balls in the forest. “My days,” he added, -“are numbered to me; this night will I seek the cross road. Into its -silent and solitary recess no one will dare to intrude; and the terrible -circle will I not leave till the fearful work shall be done.” - -But when the shadows of evening fell upon the earth, and after William -had provided lead, bullet-mould, and coals, for his nocturnal occupation, -he was gently detained by Bertram, who felt, he said, so severe an -oppression, that he entreated him to remain in his chamber during the -night. Catherine offered her services, but they were, to her -astonishment, declined. “At any other time,” said her father, “I should -have preferred you, but to-night it must be William. I shall be happier -if he will remain with me.” - -William hesitated. He grew sick in his inmost heart. He would have -objected, but Catherine’s entreaties were so irresistible, that he had -nothing to oppose against her wishes. He remained in the chamber, and in -the morning Bertram’s dark fears had faded, and he laughed at his own -absurdity. He proposed going to the forest, but William, who intended to -devote the day to his search for the soldier, dissuaded him, and departed -alone. He went, but returned disappointed, and once more resolved to -seek the forest at night. As he approached the house, Catherine met him. -“Beloved William,” said she, “you have a visitor, and a dear one, but you -must guess who it is.” - -William was not at all disposed to guess, and still less to receive -visits; for at that time the dearest friend would have been the most -unwelcome intruder. He answered peevishly, and was thinking of a pretext -to turn back, when the door of the house opened, and the pale moon threw -her soft ray upon a venerable old man, in the garb of a huntsman, who -extended his arms towards him; and “William!” said a well-known voice, -and the next instant the young forester found himself folded to the bosom -of his beloved uncle. - -Ah! magic of early ties, dear recollections, and filial gratitude! -William felt them all; his heart was full of joy, and all other thoughts -were forgotten. Suddenly spoke the warning voice to the tranquil happy -dreamer. The midnight hour struck, and William, with a shudder, -remembered what he had lost. “But one night more remains to me,” said -he; “to-morrow, or never.” His violent agony did not escape the eye of -his uncle, but he ascribed it to fatigue, and excused himself for -detaining him from his needful rest, on account of his own departure, -which he could not delay beyond the following day. “Yet grieve not, -William,” said the old man as he retired to rest; “grieve not for this -short hour thus spent, you will only sleep the sounder for it.” William -shivered, for to his ear these words conveyed a deeper meaning. There -was a dark foreboding in his heart, that the execution of his plan would -for ever banish the quiet of sleep from his soul. - -But day dawned—passed—and evening descended. “It must be now or never,” -thought William, “for to-morrow will be the day of trial.” The females -had been busied in preparations for the wedding and the reception of -their distinguished guest. Anne embraced William when he returned, and, -for the first time, saluted him with the dear name of son. The tender -joy of a young and happy bride glittered in the sweet eyes of Catherine. -The supper-table was covered with flowers, good food, and large bottles -of long-hoarded wine from the stores of Bertram. “Children,” said the -old man, “this is our own festival; let us, therefore, be happy: -to-morrow we shall not be alone, though you may perhaps be happier. I -have invited the priest, dear William, and when the trial is over.”—A -loud shriek from Catherine interrupted the forester. Kuno’s picture had -again fallen from its place, and had struck her severely on the forehead. -Bertram grew angry. “I cannot conceive,” said he, “why this picture is -not hung properly; this is the second time it has given us a fright: are -you hurt, Catherine?” “It is of no consequence,” replied the maiden, -gently wiping away the blood from her bright curls; “I am less hurt than -frightened.” - -William grew sick when he beheld her pale face, and forehead bathed in -blood. So he had seen her in his distempered dreams on that dreadful -night: and this reality conjured up all those fearful fantasies anew. -His determination of proceeding in his plan was shaken; but the wine, -which he drank in greater quantities than usual, filled him with a wild -courage, and ennerved him to undertake its execution. The clock struck -nine. Love and valour must combat with danger, thought William. But he -sought in vain for a decent pretence to leave his Catherine. How could -he quit her on her bridal eve? Time flew with the rapidity of an arrow, -and he suffered agonies even in the soft arms of rewarding love. Ten -o’clock struck: the decisive moment was come. Without taking leave, -William started from his bride, and left the house to range in the -forest. “Whither go you, William?” said her mother, following him, -alarmed. “I have shot a deer, which I had forgotten,” answered the -youth. She still entreated, and Catherine looked terrified, for she felt -that there was something (though she knew not what) to fear, from his -distracted manner. But their supplications were unheeded. William -sprung from them both, and hastened into the forest. - -The moon was on the wane, and gleamed a dark red light above the horizon. -Grey clouds flew rapidly past, and sometimes darkened the surrounding -country, which was soon relighted up by the wild and glittering -moonlight. The birch and aspen trees nodded like spectres in the shade; -and to William the silver poplar was a white shadowy figure, which -solemnly waved, and beckoned him to return. He started, and felt as if -the two extraordinary interpositions to his plan, and the repeated falls -of the picture, were the last admonitions of his departing angel, who -thus warned him against the commission of an unblessed deed. Once more -he wavered in his intention. Now he had even determined to return, when -a voice whispered close to him, “Fool! hast thou not already used the -magic balls, and dost thou only dread the toil of labouring for them?” -He paused. The moon shone brilliantly out from a dark cloud, and lighted -up the tranquil roof of the forester’s humble dwelling. William saw -Catherine’s window shine in the silvery ray, and he stretched out his -arms towards it, and again directed his steps towards his home. Then the -voice rose whisperingly again around him, and, “Hence!—to thy -work!—away!” it murmured; while a strong gust of wind brought to his ear -the stroke of the second quarter. “To my work,” he repeated; “ay; it is -cowardly to return half way—foolish to give up the great object when, for -a lesser, I have already perhaps risked my salvation. I will finish.” - -He strode rapidly forward. The wind drove the fugitive clouds over the -moon, and William entered the deep darkness of the forest. Now he stood -upon the cross road; the magic circle was drawn; the skulls and bones of -the dead laid in order around it; the moon buried herself deeper in the -cloudy mass, and left the glimmering coals at intervals fanned into a -blaze by the fitful gusts of wind, alone to lighten the midnight deed, -with a wild and melancholy glare. Remotely the third quarter sounded -from a dull and heavy tower clock. William put the casting ladle upon -the coals, and threw the lead into it, together with three balls, which -had already hit their mark, according to the huntsman’s usage: then the -forest began to be in motion; the night ravens, owls, and bats, fluttered -up and down, blinded by the glare of light. They fell from their boughs, -and placed themselves among the bones around the circle, where, with -hollow croakings and wild jabberings, they held an unintelligible -conversation with the skulls. Momentarily their numbers increased, and -among and above them hovered pale cloudy forms, some shaped like animals, -some like human beings. The gusts of wind sported frightfully with their -dusky vapoury forms, scattering and reuniting them like the dews of the -evening shades. One form alone stood motionless and unchanged near the -circle, gazing with fixed and woful looks at William; once it lifted up -its pale hands in sorrow, and seemed to sigh. The fire burned gloomily -at the moment; but a large grey owl flapped its wings, and fanned the -dying embers into light. William turned shivering away; for the -countenance of his dead mother gazed mournfully at him from the dark and -dusky figure. - -The bell tolled eleven; the pale figure vanished with a groan; the owls -and night ravens flew screeching up into the air, and the skulls and -bones clattered beneath their wings. William knelt down by his hearth of -coals. He began steadily to cast, and, with the last sound of the bell, -the first ball fell from the mould. - -The owls and the skulls were quiet: but along the road an old woman, bent -down with the weight of age, advanced towards the circle. She was hung -round with wooden spoons, ladles, and other kitchen utensils, which made -a frightful clattering. The owls screeched at her approach, and caressed -her with their wings. Arrived at the circle, she stooped down to seize -the bones and the skulls; but the coals hissed flames at her, and she -drew back her withered hands from the fire. Then she paced round the -circle, and grinning and chattering, held up her wares towards William. -“Give me the skulls,” she gabbled; “give me the skulls, and I will give -thee my treasures; give me the skulls, the skulls; what canst thou want -with the trash? Thou art mine—mine, dear bridegroom; none can help thee: -thou canst not escape me; thou must lead with me in the bridal dance. -Come away, thou bridegroom mine!” - -William’s breast throbbed; but he remained silent, and hastened on with -his work. The old woman was not a stranger to him. A mad beggar had -often haunted the neighbourhood, until she found an asylum in the -mad-house. Now, he knew not whether her appearance was reality or a -delusion. In a short time she grew enraged, threw down her stick, and -chattered anew at William. “Take these for our nuptial night,” she -cried: “the bridal bed is ready, and to-morrow, when evening cometh, thou -wilt be wedded to me. Come soon, my love; delay not, my bridegroom; come -soon.” And she hobbled slowly away into the forest. - -Suddenly there arose a rattling like the noise of wheels, mingled with -the cracking of whips and shouting of men. A carriage came headlong, -with six horses and outriders. “What is the meaning of all this in the -road?” cried the foremost horseman. “Room there!” William looked up. -Fire sprung from the hoofs of the horses, and round the wheels of the -carriage: it shone like the glimmering of phosphorus. He suspected a -magical delusion, and remained quiet. “On, on, upon it!—over it!—down! -down!” cried the horseman; and in a moment the whole troop stormed in -headlong upon the circle. William plunged down to the earth, and the -horses reared furiously above his head; but the airy cavalry whirled high -in the air with the carriage, and, after turning several times round the -magic circle, disappeared in a storm of wind, which tore the tops of the -mightiest trees, and scattered their branches to a distance. - -Some time elapsed ere William could recover from his terror. At length -he compelled his trembling fingers to be steady, and cast a few balls -without farther interruption. Again the well-known tower clock struck, -and to him in the dreadful solitary circle, consoling as the voice of -humanity, rose the sound from the habitations of men, but the clock -struck the quarter thrice. He shuddered at the lightning-like flight of -time; for a third part of his work was hardly done. Again the clock -struck, for the fourth time!—Horror!—his strength was annihilated, every -limb was palsied, and the mould fell out of his trembling hand. He -listened, in the quiet resignation of despair, for the stroke of the -full, the terrible, midnight hour. The sound hesitated—delayed—was -silent. To palter with the awful midnight was too daring and too -dangerous even to the dreadful powers of darkness. Hope again raised the -sunk heart of William; he hastily drew out his watch, and beheld it -pointing to the second quarter of the hour. He looked gratefully up -towards heaven, and a feeling of piety moderated the transport, which, -contrary to the laws of the dark world, would otherwise have burst forth -in loud and joyous exclamations. - -Strengthened, by the experience of the last half-hour, against any new -delusion, William now went boldly on with his work. Every thing was -silent around him, except that the owls snored in their uneasy sleep, and -at intervals struck their beaks against the bones of the dead. Suddenly -it was broken by a crackling among the bushes. The sound was familiar to -the sportsman, and, as he expected, a huge wild boar broke through the -briers, and came foaming towards the circle. Believing this to be a -reality, he sprung hastily on his feet, seized his gun, and attempted to -fire. Not a single spark came from the flint. Startled at his danger, -he drew his hunting-knife to attack it,—when the bristly savage, like the -carriage and the horses, ascended high above his head, and vanished into -the silent fields of air. - -The anxious lover worked on steadily to regain the time he had so -unhappily lost. Sixty balls were cast. He looked joyfully upwards; the -clouds were dispersing, and the moon again threw her bright rays upon the -surrounding country; he was rejoicing in the approaching end of his -labours, when an agonised voice, in the tones of Catherine, shrieked out -the name of “William!” In the next moment, he beheld his beloved dart -from among the bushes, and gaze fearfully around her. Following her -distracted steps, and panting closely behind her, trod the mad beggar -woman, extending her withered arms towards the fugitive, whose light -dress, fluttering in the wind, she repeatedly attempted to grasp. -Catherine collected her expiring strength in one desperate effort to -escape, when the long-sought soldier of the forest planted himself before -her and delayed her flight. The hesitation of the moment gained time for -the mad woman, who sprung wildly upon Catherine, and grasped her in her -long and fleshless hands. William could endure it no longer, he dashed -the last ball from his hand, and was on the point of springing from the -circle, when the bell tolled midnight, and the delusion vanished. The -owls knocked the skulls and bones cluttering against each other, and flew -up again to their hiding-places; the coals were suddenly extinguished; -and William sunk, exhausted with fatigue, to the earth; but there was no -rest for him in the forest; he was again disturbed by the slow and sullen -approach of a stranger, mounted upon a huge coal-black steed: he stopped -before the demolished magic circle, and, addressing the huntsman,—“You -have stood the trial well,” said he; “what do you require of me?” - -“Of you, stranger, nothing,” replied William; “of that of which I had -need, I have prepared for myself.” - -“But with my assistance,” continued the stranger; “therefore a share of -it belongs to me.” “Certainly not,” replied the huntsman; “I have -neither hired you nor called upon you.” - -The horseman smiled. “You are bolder than your equals are wont to be,” -said he. “Take then the balls which you have cast: sixty for you, three -for me. The first hit, the second miss. When we meet again you will -understand me.” - -William turned away. “I will not meet you again; I will never see you -more,” he cried, trembling. “Why do you turn from me?” demanded the -stranger, with a horrible laugh: “do you know me?” “No; no,” said the -huntsman, shuddering; “I know you not; I will not even look upon you. -Whoever you may be, leave me.” - -The black horseman turned his steed. “The rising hairs of your head,” -cried he with gloomy gravity, “declare that you do know me. You are -right; I am he whom you name in the secrecy of your soul, and shudder to -think you have done so.” At these words he disappeared, and the trees -under which he had stood let their withered branches sink helpless and -dead to the earth. - -“Merciful Heaven! William,” said Catherine, on remarking his pale and -distracted look on his return after midnight; “what has happened to you? -you look as if you had just risen from the grave.” “It is the night -air,” he replied; “and I am not well.” “But, William,” said the -forester, who had just entered, “why then would you go to the forest: -something has happened to you there. Boy, you cannot thus blind me.” - -William was startled; the sad solemnity of Bertram’s manner struck him. -“Yes, something has occurred,” said he; “but have patience for a few -days, and all shall be explained to your satisfaction.” “Willingly, dear -son,” interrupted the forester; “question him no further, Catherine. Go -to your needful rest, William, and indulge in hope of the future. He who -goes on in his occupation openly and honestly, never can be harmed by the -evil spirits of the night.” - -William had need of all his dissimulation; for the old man’s observations -so nearly meeting the truth, his forbearing love, and unshaken confidence -in William’s honesty, altogether distracted his mind: he hastened to his -room, determined to destroy the magical preparation. “But one ball—only -one will I use,” exclaimed he, weeping aloud, with his folded hands held -up to heaven; “and surely this determination will efface the sin of the -deed I have committed. With a thousand acts of penitence I will make -atonement for what is past, for I cannot now step back without betraying -my happiness, my honour, and my love.” And with this resolution he -calmed the tumult of his spirits, and met the rays of the morning sun -with more tranquillity than he had dared to hope. - -The commissary of the duke arrived; he proposed a shooting party in the -forest, before the trial of skill took place. “For, though we must -certainly retain the old form,” said he, “of the essay shot, yet the -skill of the huntsman is, after all, best proved in the forest: so come, -young marksman, to the woods.” - -William’s cheek grew pale, and he earnestly tried to excuse himself from -accompanying them. But, when this was refused by the chief forester, he -entreated at least to be allowed to fire his trial shot before their -departure. Old Bertram shook his head, doubtingly: “William,” said he, -“should my suspicion of yesterday be just”—“Father!” replied the youth; -and no longer daring to hesitate, he departed with them to the forest. - -Bertram had in vain endeavoured to suppress his forebodings and assume a -cheerful countenance. Catherine too was dejected, and it was not until -the arrival of the priest that she recollected her nuptial garland: her -mother had locked it up, and, in her haste to open the chest, broke the -lock, and was obliged to send into the village for another wreath, as too -much time had been wasted in endeavouring to recover the first. “Let -them give you the handsomest,” said Anne to the little messenger, “the -very handsomest they have.” The boy accordingly chose the most -glittering, and the seller, who misunderstood him gave him a death -garland, composed of myrtle and rosemary, intermingled with silver. The -mother and daughter beheld and recognized the mysterious intimation of -fate; they embraced each other in silence, and endeavoured to smile away -their terror, in imputing it to the boy’s mistake. Again the broken lock -was tried; it opened easily now; the wreaths were changed, and the bridal -garland was twined around Catherine’s brilliant locks. - -The sportsmen returned from the forest. The commissary was inexhaustible -on the subject of William’s wondrous skill. “It almost appears -ridiculous,” said he, “after such proofs, to require any further trial; -yet, in honour of the old custom, we must perform what appears -superfluous; we will therefore finish the business as quickly as -possible. There upon that pillar, sits a dove, shoot it.” “For God’s -sake,” said Catherine, hastily approaching, “do not shoot that dove. -Alas! in my sleep last night I was myself a dove, and my mother, while -fastening a ring round my neck, on your approaching us, became covered -with blood.” - -William drew back his gun; but the chief forester smiled. “So timid, -little maiden!” said he, “that will never do for a huntsman’s bride: -come, courage! courage!—or is the dove a favourite, perhaps?” - -“Ah, no,” she replied; “it is but fear.” - -“Well then,” replied the commissary, “have courage; and now, William, -fire!” - -William fired, and, in the same moment, Catherine sunk, with a loud -scream, to the earth. “Silly girl,” exclaimed the commissary, lifting -her up: but a stream of blood flowed over her face, her forehead was -shattered, for the ball of the rifle was lodged in the wound. William -turned on hearing loud shrieks behind him, and beheld his Catherine pale, -weltering in her own blood, and by her side the soldier of the forest, -who, with a fiendish laugh of scorn, pointed to his dying victim, and -cried aloud to William, “Sixty hit, three miss!” - -“Accursed fiend!” shrieked the wretched youth, striking at the detested -form with his sword, “hast thou thus deceived me?” His agony permitted -no further expression, for he sunk senseless to the earth by the side of -the victim bride. The commissary and priest in vain endeavoured to -console the childless, heart-broken parents. The mother had scarcely -laid the prophetic garland of death upon the bosom of the bridal corpse, -when her sorrow and life expired with her last-shed tear: the solitary -father soon followed her, and the miserable William closed his life in -the mad-house. - - - - -THE FORTUNES OF DE LA POLE. - - - In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on - men; - Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. - Then a spirit passed before my face, the hair of my head stood up. - - _Job_ chap. iv. - -EARLY in the seventeenth century, on a very cold November morning, a -gentleman of Winchester was returning to his home, by a road which then -led by the borders of the New Forest. He was conversing gaily with his -attendants, when his dogs arrested the mirth of the party, by darting -suddenly into the mazes of the forest, and signifying their discovery of -some unusual object by loud and continued howls. Sir Bernard Courtenay -instantly followed their track, and was startled by discovering, amid the -tangled bushes, the corpse of a man, frightfully mangled, and which -appeared to have lain some time in its concealment. Little observation -was necessary to point out the identity of the sufferer,—Sir Bernard -Courtenay almost instantly recognized an intimate friend; and, with deep -and painful commiseration, prepared to assist his attendants to convey -the body to its home. - -Many conjectures were immediately afloat, as to the cause and perpetrator -of this dreadful act, and, as is ever usual in such cases, many more -absurd and irrational than just:—there was no apparent possibility of -tracing the fact; it appeared to mock all the art and all the power of -justice. He had not been robbed—murder alone had been intended, and had -alone been perpetrated; so that one fact at least was clear, that this -deed had been the work of an enemy: no common one, it was presumed, if -the appearance of the corpse might weigh any thing in evidence; it was -mangled fearfully, and the frightful distension of the muscles, the grim -and rigid expression of the features, the many deep and bloody wounds -upon the body, and the firm and powerful grasp with which the strained -fingers of one hand clenched a dark lock of human hair, while those of -the other as firmly closed over the hilt of a broken dagger, gave tokens -that a fierce and terrible struggle had preceded his unexpected -destruction. It was hoped, that some corresponding token of wounds and -fierce exertion might lead to a discovery of the murderer; for none -deemed, after beholding the body, and calling to mind the noble courage -of the victim when in life, that the destroyer could pass from that gripe -unharmed. - -He who had thus fallen, was one for whom every eye had a tear and every -heart a genuine sigh; he had been the friend of all, the enemy of none; -he was young, beautiful, and brave; and his native town had looked up to -him as one who was to add new glory to her venerable name, and new lustre -to his own princely blood; and cut off in the beginning of his career, -the very high day of his happiness and beauty, and so cut off—who was -there that did not lament for John de la Pole? But, though all -Winchester, and the county in whose bosom it lies, sorrowed over the -corpse of John de la Pole, the agony borne from his death was to be found -in his family alone; there he had been adored, and there most truly and -deeply was his sad destiny accused. His young and lovely wife, scarce -past her bridal year,—she who had, long before his marriage, been the -secret object of his ardent love, and who, upon the death of his father, -became the object of his choice—of her grief it was scarcely possible to -think without affright; for, in that convulsion of soul into which, in -the first horror of eternal separation from all we love, we invariably -fall, she had withdrawn herself from all consolation of her friends—all -succour of her attendants; and report whispered that she was using means, -though quietly, (in order to avoid public shame,) to shorten a life which -was now become odious and burthensome. To this cruel resolution she had -been driven by a terrible incident; on the morning of the discovery of -the body, she had, believing him to be on his road towards his home, -ascended her carriage in order to meet him, and was driving cheerfully -through the town, when her progress was arrested by the appearance of the -crowd bearing the corpse of her husband. She recognized it at a glance, -and, before they were aware of their imprudence, a piercing shriek -announced to the people that she did so. She took another searching, -distracted look at the body, and shrunk into the arms of her attendants, -insensible and silent. _They_ thought she was dead—it would not have -been wonderful if she had been; the husband of her soul was lying before -her, a deep gash across his throat, another had disfigured his snowy -brow, and almost divided his once lofty head, while the bosom upon which -she had been accustomed to repose was mangled and rent by stabs and blows -too many to number—what an object for a young and loving wife! -Remembrance was terrible to her, and the inability of justice to discover -the murderer added despair to her grief, and thus compelled her to seek -for consolation only in the prospect of death. - -As bitter a grief, though perhaps not so deep or desperate, had fastened -upon the heart of the only survivor of his family, a youth of twenty, of -a beauty and virtue equal to his lamented brother, and who had indeed -ample reason for his regrets. John de la Pole had been as a father to -his youth, and loved him with a warmth far surpassing the kindness of -ordinary brotherhood. Eustace had never been taught to remember that he -was the younger, for the fortunes of his house were open to him, and the -purse of the elder was common to both. On the marriage of the latter -with his beloved Agatha, the younger had timidly hinted at his fears of -an interruption to their friendship; but John had remedied this, by -generously providing for his brother, and entreating his Agatha to allow -him still a home at the castle: which being granted, Eustace, though -still fearful of the influence of his lovely sister, continued to reside -at home. - -But the influence he so much dreaded during his life, became singularly -apparent after the death of his beloved John. The will of the latter had -indeed left an independence to Eustace, but nothing to support the -splendour of that princely house of which he was now sole representative. -All was assigned to Agatha,—she was the sole heir of her husband,—the -being for whose sake alone he appeared to glory in the possession of -wealth. Eustace indeed might still enjoy it, but it was upon a condition -which drew the blood from the young man’s cheek as he read, and palsied -the warm throbbings of the heart in his bosom; it was, that if John de la -Pole should die childless before he had attained the age of thirty, -Eustace should espouse the widow. His brother even _entreated_ this -sacrifice of him: he said, he knew his heart had been sensible of other -charms, but he implored him to yield up this transient gratification to -his eternal happiness. He could not endure, he said, the thought of -averting from Eustace the fortune of his house; yet still less could he -endure to know that Agatha would fill a subordinate state in his family -to that in which he had placed her. He shuddered at the thought of her -being driven, by this circumstance, to become the wife of another—of one -who would love her, and whom she could also love. He besought Eustace -therefore, if he valued his repose, to wed her, as no attachment -subsisted between them, and he was satisfied to believe that by him she -would be treated with gentleness. Agatha he entreated to comply with his -last wishes, and accept the hand of Eustace within two months after his -death, or be content to resign, with her present rank, the estates to the -next of kin. Such was the will of John de la Pole. Eustace, full of -grief, instantly retired from the castle of his sister, whom he believed -as little inclined to fulfil the conditions of the will as himself, and -resigned his spirit for some days to despair; but his friends rallied -round him, and represented how much depended upon his calm decision. The -next of kin had appeared too, a greedy rapacious man, the son of his -father’s sister, who seemed to be sure of his inheritance, and who John, -(it was conjectured,) had purposely named, to stimulate his brother to -fulfil his dying injunctions. Hugh de Broke was insolent and brutal, had -never been on kindly terms with his cousins, and had once nearly been -murdered by the peasantry for wounding John in a quarrel which occurred a -few years before. The inhabitants saw him return with disgust; his early -brutalities were remembered; and when he boasted, in his drink, that he -knew his cousin before his death intended to make a will in his favour, -all Hampshire was ready to accuse him of the murder, and many of its -gentlemen would have given half their estates to have been able to -substantiate the charge. From earnest desire to action there is but one -step: the thought was scarcely uttered by one, ere many endeavoured to -prove it a fact, and Hugh de Broke became, from an object of mere -dislike, one of abhorrence and suspicion. He was not told of the murmurs -afloat respecting him; and he was too much accustomed to signs of -dislike, to observe any thing new in their conduct. The eyes that glared -upon him had nothing in them peculiarly ferocious to him now; nor did the -deep mutterings and suppressed curses as he passed, startle him at this -period from his path; he remembered the hatred of other days, and if he -_did_ observe any increase of this ill feeling towards him, he attributed -their malignity less towards himself in his own person, than against the -authority he would be enabled to hold over their actions as the fortunate -heir of John de la Pole. At all events, he fortified himself against -their inflictions, by resorting in some cases to the exercise of his -native brutality, in others to a loud and bitter scorn, which only served -to increase their abhorrence and his own unsuspected danger. - -The accusers were wary in their proceedings, and silently went on -collecting proofs and accumulating evidence, until they believed they had -truly in the ruffian kinsman, discovered the murderer of their popular -favourite. It was remembered, that after three years’ absence, he had -appeared in Hampshire about a month previous to the murder of John, and -then had suddenly disappeared, to re-appear as suddenly in Winchester -after the contents of the extraordinary will were made public. He had -boasted a previous knowledge of this document, and he had taken into his -service the man who attended John in his fatal journey, and who, by -delaying to follow his master, had given courage to the assassin to make -the attack. This man had been dismissed by Eustace with a bitter -reproof, and had immediately repaired to De Broke. Fear, or too much -security, (it was affirmed,) had dictated the measure of his adoption, -after a dismissal which ought to have rendered his services every where -suspicious. John, it was urged, had been absent nearly a month, on a -visit to a distant friend; he had set out on foot on his return, -unaccompanied; for this man, according to his own statement, was -commanded by his master to follow him with the horses, one of which (De -la Pole’s) had been injured by an accident a few days before; but he had -loitered long after, in order to keep an appointment which he had made -with a damsel in the establishment of his master’s friend. He was for -this loudly accused of treachery; and De Broke ferociously became his -champion, with a violence that only defeated the object he had in view. -The lock of hair found in the gripe of the corpse was remembered and -produced; it was a bunch of thick and clustering curls, and had been -forcibly torn from the head of the assassin. The hair of the servant was -pale, but it was remarked that Hugh’s was dark and curling, and they -sought an opportunity to compare them together. De Broke drove the party -from his presence with every mark of contempt, and hardly deigned to -assent to the repeated asseverations of his servants, that his hair was -much darker, and altogether of a different texture from that produced as -taken from the corpse. His conduct was resented warmly. By degrees all -the gentry assumed the opinions of the mob; and when, in a violent attack -upon his person, it was discovered that his hair had lately been polled -in order to facilitate the cure of a wound, and which had hitherto been -concealed by the (then) extraordinary contrivance of a peruke, the -magistrates made open cause with the people, and Hugh was conducted to -prison. There his conduct was sullen and brutal; he would give no -explanation, save that the wound in his head arose from a fall from his -horse. He was unusually ferocious; and considerably aggravated his case, -by his constant threats of deep and deadly vengeance against Eustace de -la Pole, who, he insisted, had conspired to cheat him of his estate, in -conjunction with his other enemies. Many new proofs appeared against -him, and the whole county awaited, in trembling suspense, the event of -his anticipated trial. - -But these anticipations were not to be gratified: a few nights before the -arrival of the judges, Hugh had contrived to escape from his prison, and -elude the vigilance of his enemies, by the aid, it was supposed, of his -servant, for he also fled the country; and neither master nor man again -fell into the hands of justice. - -In the mean time, the interval months, the short period of time allowed -for most important considerations, were fast wearing away; the two -persons most interested in their progress had come to no decision; and -though Hugh de Broke had for the present withdrawn his claim, yet he had -heirs, who neither more delicate nor more generous than himself, might -endeavour to prove his incapacity, and substantiate their own in place of -his. At all events, delays were dangerous, and the fortunes of De la -Pole were too considerable to be put to hazard. Eustace loved another, -and Agatha could not forget her husband; yet a compliance with the terms -of the will became an absolute necessity. Though with averted hearts, -they joined hands at the earnest entreaty of friends and relatives; nor -would it have been possible to have refused, since even royal majesty -evinced a solicitude, that the great fortunes and powerful political -interest of the family should not pass into any other hands than those of -that loyal and princely blood which had hitherto held them so nobly. -Agatha and Eustace became man and wife, and vowed to cherish and love -each other till death. - -But it was soon evident to all, that this was not either in the power or -inclination of the new wedded pair: a deeper sorrow had sunk into their -minds, and their calm grief was supplanted by looks and feelings of -horror and despair. They spent much of their time together; but their -conferences seemed rather to heighten than to soothe their mutual -suffering. It was at length remarked, that Eustace never passed his -nights in the chamber of his wife, but sometimes in deep groans and -anguish in the seclusion of his own apartment, or in wandering wildly -through the gloomy mazes of the forest. At such times a stupor would -overshadow the spirit of Agatha,—a silent and uncomplaining madness that -seemed to render her insensible to suffering; and only upon his return -did she vent her keen anguish in words, or dissipate her torture by -shrieks as piercing as they were fearful. - -Those about them saw no other cause for this mental hell, than the grief -that had seized upon them, by constantly contemplating their eternal -separation from the being they most loved. It was anticipated that time -would effect, if not a cure, at least some amelioration of its -bitterness; but time rolled on, and their agonies did not decrease. Nor -did the prospect of an heir to their disastrous union afford any pleasure -or consolation to their minds; they went through the usual routine of -preparation, because, as it appeared, it _was_ usual; there was no joyous -anticipation on the part of Eustace,—no tender, trembling hope on the -side of Agatha; there was no anxiety, no care; it was a thing unspoken -of, unnoted; and when the bustle of the house, the importance of the -attendants, and the entrance of the friend (who, unsummoned, save by the -servants, yet judged it necessary to be near her,) told Eustace of the -near approaching throes of Agatha, he threw himself upon the ground in -the chamber adjoining her, and buried his face in his hands. - -Eustace, young, beautiful, and of a gallant spirit, was adored by his -household, _all_ the members of which fondly contemplated the birth of an -heir, as an event well calculated to calm their mutual suffering, and -endear them to each other: and though the maternal anguish of Agatha took -place before the usual and expected time, the hopes so affectionately -cherished were not shaken by the event; but the conduct of their master -gave a wound to their generous devotion. Sad and singular as it was, -that of Agatha was scarcely less inexplicable: no groans, no tokens of -pain accompanied her physical suffering; and it was apparent that some -keener pang of the mind, some woe too deep for utterance, had deadened -all sense to merely corporal pain. Her eyes were generally closed, -except when some louder noise, or the nearer approach of an attendant -towards the couch, forced her to open them, and gaze around her for an -instant; but, when her senses were thus for a moment awakened, it was -evident the object which had aroused them had no share in their -attention. Heedless of all that was passing, she took a shuddering rapid -glance around the chamber, as if in earnest search of one whom she yet -feared to encounter, and then closed them in evident affright, and sunk -anew into stupor and silence;—it was amidst this stupor and silence that -her first-born son entered the world. - -Eustace had not long remained absorbed in his own painful meditations, -ere a mighty shriek from the chamber of Agatha broke upon his ear, and -made him partly raise his head from the hard pillow to which he had -consigned it. But his soul was dead within him;—he thought no further -agony could reach him now—no keener pang could inflict a wound in his -already crushed heart; and though the scream was one of horror and -dismay, a sound of many voices in grief and consternation, it passed over -his senses without further notice, and he again dropped his head to the -ground, and, grovelling to earth, seemed as he would bury himself from -his anguish in the kindly bosom of his only parent—his last—his truest -friend. - -But repose was not for him—no, not even the repose of despair—he was -again to wake, to feel, to suffer; there was an undreamed-of agony near—a -sting that was to penetrate his palsied bosom, and awake his crushed soul -from the dead; to die would have been bliss, but that was a bliss denied -him. - -The unhappy young man arose;—a footstep was heard hastily rushing towards -his chamber—the wife of Courtenay approached him with a look of -commiserating regard, and took his arm to draw him to the apartment of -Agatha. She did not speak, but Eustace read in the expression of her -features that there was yet more to encounter and to endure. He entered -the apartment of his wife—_she_ was lying speechless and insensible upon -her couch, utterly incapable of any observation of what was passing -around her; and by her side lay a deformed and distorted infant, plunged -in the still deeper silence of death. - -In the first moment of sorrow, the friend who had so hastily sought the -presence of Eustace, had done so under the compelling influence of the -circumstance and the time; but a few moments had scarcely elapsed, ere -Courtenay recovered sufficient recollection to decide that his wife had -judged unwisely in so rapidly flying from the chamber of the poor Agatha, -and bursting into that of her husband, dreading the influence the sudden -grief might probably acquire over the already racked brain of the latter. -With this feeling, Courtenay raised his eyes from the dead child to -observe the countenance of Eustace, and if possible, form a judgment as -to how he was likely to support this shock: but here his fears gave place -to a new feeling, and his grief was overpowered by astonishment at the -singular deportment of Eustace: the childless father advanced slowly -towards the corse of his infant, and gazed upon it intently for a moment; -a spasm of agony passed over his countenance, but there was no surprise -mingled with its expression. “And is it indeed _thus_!” he murmured in a -low and agonised tone of voice; “and _so_ must my punishment begin!—yet -better is it even thus, than that thou, poor distorted thing! shouldst -live to reproach thy father, and, by thy sufferings, be an accusing -witness against him.” A convulsive shivering seized upon his frame, and -he seemed to be struggling with some difficult and awful resolve. At -that moment a similar convulsion appeared to extend itself to the body of -the infant; its eyes rolled, and one arm suddenly stretched itself out -with a convulsive kind of movement, and remained extended, pointing -towards Eustace. The struggle was at an end in an instant; the change -from distracted to subdued sorrow was the work of a moment. He grew -perfectly calm; and turning his looks again towards the infant, and -addressing it in a low steady voice, “I thank thee,” he said, “for this -warning; thou too shalt not have cause to reproach me; I have hesitated -too long; but his will and thine shall be done.” Saying thus, his head -drooped upon his bosom as in deep thought, and the extended arm of the -child a moment after fell quietly down by its side. - -Courtenay, the friend of Eustace, and the near relative of Agatha, now -judged that in this moment of calmness he might venture some expressions -of consolation. He deeply regretted that he should have mistaken the -sleep of the infant for the last slumber of death, and he urged to -Eustace the possibility that the union of medical skill and paternal care -might relieve his child from its afflictions, and restore it, in natural -beauty, to his love. He continued to dwell some time longer upon well -intended topics of consolation, until he perceived that Eustace no longer -heard his observations, or even remembered his presence. Suddenly, a new -thought appeared to awaken the dormant faculties of the latter. “Has -Agatha seen her child?” he demanded. “No,” replied the wife of -Courtenay; “she was insensible at the time of its birth, and I instantly -rushed from the chamber to seek counsel of my husband: he could give -none; but, terrified as myself, followed me hither. Now, I deem, that as -the child has uttered no sound since it came into the world, it were -better she were told of its death; it will be but an anticipation of what -must happen; for surely such an unhappy object cannot long exist.” “I -know not that,” observed Eustace, sadly; “but at least do as thou hast -said, and remove the child from the castle.” Courtenay retired from the -apartment; and the wish of De la Pole was speedily obeyed. - -But it seemed as if this unmeasured sorrow had brought calmness to him -whom they feared it would annihilate: he sought not the apartment of his -wife, but retired tranquilly to his own; and there was a stillness in it -throughout the night, wholly unlike the restless pacings and disturbed -groans which had hitherto been heard to issue from it. In the morning he -went to Agatha; their conference was long and sad, for traces of tears -were on her countenance when they parted; but the shrieks and agonies -which had formerly distinguished their interviews were no more; she had -caught consolation and fortitude from him, and her mind, it appeared, had -now grown as resigned and tranquil as his own. - -Eustace made a journey to a distant part of the country: he spoke nothing -of his intention previous to his setting out, nor of its object on his -return; that it had been of importance, could only be collected from the -care with which he had concealed it, and the continual occupations which -followed his arrival at Winchester. He was constantly employed in -writing, and once or twice had had earnest conversations with Courtenay. -It was during one of these that he received an unexpected interruption in -the person of Agatha, who entered calmly the apartment of her husband, -and demanded his attention. Courtenay arose, and was preparing to -retire, when Agatha arrested his steps. “That which I have to say is for -thy ear also,” she remarked; “stay, therefore, and answer me. Sleeping -on my couch in the midday heat the voice of my damsels in discourse broke -upon my ear, and the sound they uttered gave me to know that my infant -boy yet lives; wherefore is it that it is not in the bosom of its mother? -and why was it ever banished from her care?” There was a dead silence at -the conclusion of this speech. Eustace replied not, and the lip of -Courtenay trembled. “Eustace fears to reply,” observed Agatha; “he -trembles to accumulate more sorrow upon this drooping head; he may, in -tenderness, deceive; but thou, Courtenay, knowest not to lie, and from -thy lips must the bitter truth come; wherefore is my infant not here?” -“We feared it would die,” answered Courtenay; “and, therefore, in thy -already terrible agony, wished to spare thee the spectacle of its -dissolution.” “But it did not die,” pertinaciously resumed Agatha; “why -was it not restored? it might have brought peace and consolation to the -bosom of its mother.” “No, madam,” returned the shuddering speaker; -“that child would have brought sorrow and dismay, but no joy to the heart -of its unhappy parent. We removed it to a distance, fearing the effect -of its appearance upon your mind; it is most fearfully disfigured.” -“Disfigured!” repeated Agatha, with a thrilling start. A long pause -ensued. “Let her behold the boy,” said Eustace, calmly. “Yes! let me -behold my boy,” said the mother, while tears of sorrow heightened the -lustre of those splendid eyes; “let me behold my boy; I shall not shrink -from his sight, even though he be an eternal remembrancer of—” She -paused, and sadly turned her eyes towards her husband. “Well, then, thou -hast anticipated aright,” said Eustace; “he _will_ be to thee an eternal -remembrancer; to me—that ghastly face—that pointing hand—I will not -behold them; yet do I rejoice in thy resolve, for such is thy painful -duty, and thus wilt thou share my sacrifice without enduring my -suffering.” He retired as he spoke; and soon after, conducted by -Courtenay, in silence and secrecy, the hapless mother folded the ghastly -boy to her breast. - -It is rare that the human mind can dwell upon more than one wonder at a -period. The neighbourhood, roused by the idle gossiping of the castle -damsels, had begun to be astonished at the disappearance of the heir of -De la Pole, who was said not to be dead, but deprived of his mother’s -tenderness and his father’s succession; and, offended that there should -be a secret, they determined that rendering justice to the injured child -should be the apology for their own ungenerous curiosity. From this they -were diverted by a singular incident. - -A meeting of the gentlemen of the county had been called for some public -purpose foreign to this narrative. In the midst of this discussion, it -was observed that Eustace de la Pole was absent: this, to many who had -known of his recent griefs and habits, was nothing singular; but those -who resided more remote from the sphere of his influence, felt authorised -to demand his presence and attention in a matter which was supposed -deeply to interest the class to which he belonged. A messenger was -despatched to request his attendance, and was told that he was preparing -to wait upon them; and he who was charged with the embassy had scarcely -returned to his employers, ere Eustace de la Pole entered the -council-chamber, leading by the hand a tall and graceful youth, whom he -placed at the table of the council, and behind whose chair he stood while -he spoke. His words were few; but their stunning import threw horror and -astonishment over the noble assembly. “I present to you this young man,” -calmly said he; “and I have assigned to him his appointed place; mine it -must be no longer; he is the son of Hugh de Broke, who is lately dead, -and who, a few months since, was accused of the murder of John de la -Pole. I come to render him a late, though, I trust, not useless justice, -and restore the honour of his house. This youth is not only the heir of -the fortunes of De la Pole, but of his father’s innocence, since I only -was the murderer of my brother.” - -It would not be possible to paint all the feelings of the audience who -listened to this singular declaration, nor the contrariety of opinions -that pervaded the minds of men upon its disclosure. Some asserted that -derangement had fastened upon the mind of Eustace, and that he only -imagined the fact; others, that grief had wearied him of existence, and -that, preferring to die by other hands than his own, he had chosen this -method of escaping from life and its convulsions; but the far greater -part (as is ever the case in human judgments) decided for the darker side -of the question, and concluded the self-accusation to be just, and were -only now interested in analysing his motive. The will of the victim too -became a subject of infinite wonder; and when, to every interrogatory -(save those which implied the participation of Agatha, which he instantly -and earnestly denied,) Eustace remained mute, indignation supplied the -place of pity; and among those who had been his intimates and friends, -had eaten of his bread and drank of his cup, there were not wanting some, -who, baffled in their eager pursuit of the marvellous, and offended that -a secret was denied to them, even hinted at the torture, as a means of -compelling a discovery of his motives and accomplices. - -There are many whose sickly existences find health only in the -contemplation of the severer agonies of others; many who, without either -hatred or malignity, yet love to feed their unnatural and craving -appetites for singularities and horrors; and would rather cherish them -with the blood of a dear friend, than suffer them to famish for want of -sustenance. In small communities and country places, this inclination in -the inhabitants is most apparent: here it was cruelly visible. John de -la Pole had always been a popular man, and his destiny had afforded them -a feast of blood, for which they felt grateful to his memory; from his -murderer they could exact it, and they would: the loudest for justice -appealed to the king for the application of the torture, and those who -pitied the sufferer did not oppose the petition, as curious to behold the -result. - -The weak and inquisitive prince who then filled the English throne, saw -something singular and mysterious in the conduct of the young De la Pole, -and therefore unhesitatingly gave his assent to the sentence of his -judges. The torture was borne by Eustace without a groan, though a close -imprisonment of some weeks might have weakened his spirit and exhausted -his bodily strength. He walked calmly and unsupported to the scene of -suffering, conversing steadily with Courtenay, who never for an instant -forsook him. From any outward tokens of anticipated agony or terror, it -would have been difficult to distinguish the criminal from the spectator: -he even smiled as he recognised his acquaintances in the crowd assembled -to gaze upon his sufferings. There was only one action remarkable in his -bearing at this trying juncture; on ascending the scaffold, and while -they were binding his arms, his attention was arrested apparently by some -object near him, though no one could be seen by the crowd, and during the -whole period of the infliction of the “peine forte et dure,” the victim -kept his eyes still fastened upon this spot, but without articulating a -word. When the accumulated weights pressed so heavily on his sinking -breast as to threaten dissolution, he raised his head to look upon his -mangled limbs, and surveyed them in silent attention; he then turned his -eyes to the spot which had so long occupied their regards, and, pointing -with a slow and solemn motion to the load upon his breast, said, in a -clear and steady tone, “Thou see’st!” - -Eustace was remanded to prison; his friends, his enemies, those who were -neither, all besought him with equal earnestness not to die with this -secret sin upon his heart; he smiled at their anxiety, but answered -nothing to their queries;—they doubted his guilt, ascribed his conduct to -madness, to despair;—he replied by throwing off his cap and showing the -scar in his head, from which his brother, in the last agonising grasp of -death, had torn the dark and bloody lock which had once so nearly -condemned the unfortunate De Broke,—and they were silenced. He continued -steadfast to his purpose—silent, sorrowful, but calm. - -And where was Agatha during these scenes of insult and endurance? Had -she too forsaken the dungeon of her husband, and given up her soul to -exultation in his captivity and anguish? She had once, and only once, -demanded admittance to his prison; she had remained with him many hours, -and retired, like himself, tranquillised from the interview. Soon after, -she formally resigned the castle and its dependencies to him whom Eustace -had named as the lawful heir: her own son and his claims, were now no -longer remembered, since the crime of his father had deprived him of the -succession, which had been awarded by the king to the son of the injured -De Broke. After these arrangements, which were performed in silence and -celerity, and with only the casual assistance of Courtenay, Agatha -withdrew from her native town, and concealed her person and her sorrow -for ever from the eyes of the world. - -But her desertion of her husband at the tremendous juncture when he so -much needed her help and consolation, was not regarded with indignation -by the many who considered the circumstances under which she stood: -_that_ husband was a murderer, and of whom? The terrible question needed -no reply, and Agatha was speedily acquitted! her absence too was a -trivial circumstance compared with that of her husband’s situation. All -eyes were turned to the prison at Winchester. - -At length Eustace de la Pole was led out to die. It was a splendid day -in the season of autumn, on which his mortal career was to terminate. -Consideration for the princely blood which flowed in his veins, had -forbidden, in his case, the strangulation by the degrading cord, and the -axe and the block had been substituted in its room. The novelty of the -circumstance drew many thousands round the scaffold, who awaited, in -feverish and almost angry impatience, the arrival of him who was to -furnish forth the spectacle of the day. He came,—not indeed as before, -with an erect and unassisted step, for his limbs had been crushed, and -his physical strength destroyed; but his pale countenance was composed, -and his soft rich voice was steady and clear, as he conversed at -intervals with Courtenay, the priest, and the executioner, who received -him courteously, as, led by the two former, he ascended the steps of the -scaffold. Of the crowd around he took no heed, but with calm and silent -celerity prepared himself for the block. At sight of the noble young -man, bare-headed and disrobed for the sad and ignominious death, there -were many who could no longer restrain their tears; and hard-hearted -grey-headed men who, hating his crime, believed they could find pleasure -in his sorrow, and went thither to feast upon his suffering, now wept -loudly for him whom, in their first feeling of horror, they had cursed. -He appeared unconscious of this change of temper, and seemed rather -disposed to hasten than to retard the preparations, for he laid his head -down upon his last pillow before the executioner had entirely completed -them. He had himself promised to give the signal for the fall of the -axe; and while the multitude were anxiously awaiting this movement, they -beheld him suddenly raise his head from the block, and gaze intently upon -one particular spot upon the scaffold; all eyes were instantly directed -towards it, but to them at least no object was visible. He gazed for a -few moments with intense earnestness, then calmly replacing his head upon -the block, exclaimed in solemn but eager accents, “Thou see’st!” and gave -the signal for his death. The axe fell—heavily, rapidly—it was -over—swifter than thought. The executioner held up the gory head to the -people; the features were calm, the eyes closed; but before he could -utter the customary sentence, they had once more opened and fixed -themselves upon the same spot which had attracted the last of their -living regards; they appeared slowly to follow the movement of some -unseen object round the scaffold, till they reached the opposite side; -then they withdrew their gaze, quivered for an instant, dropped, dark and -immoveable, for ever. - -This, as many strange scenes, was however doomed to be forgotten, like -other things. Ten years passed away, and ten other wonders had, during -that period, interested or frightened the people of Winchester and its -surrounding country. John and Eustace de la Pole were no more -remembered, or their story only casually mentioned as belonging to the -odd things that were; Courtenay had glided into middle age, and the youth -for whom Eustace had done so much, had long since written man.—Ten years! -How many and how striking may be the changes of ten years! Courtenay had -long pondered over the destiny of Agatha, and sighed to think whither her -unhappy fate might have conducted her; but the long interval which passed -had almost swept her from his mind, when a letter, in her unforgotten -character, was one day put into his hand. It was couched in brief and -anxious terms, and conveyed a request that he would immediately proceed -to her dwelling. Courtenay was no laggard in the cause of humanity; he -did not pause to speculate upon this address, or even to wonder at its -abruptness, but he set forward instantly, and the morning of the -following day saw him knock at a lonely cottage on the coast of -Dorsetshire, in the neighbourhood of Corfe Castle. The door was opened -by Agatha herself, who habited in the black robes which she had worn -since the sad death of the last of her husbands, received him with -courteous sadness. Years had not dimmed the beauty of her matchless -face, but sorrow had been busy with its expression; the same lovely -features were there, but their once bright character was gone. - -Their meeting was tenderly sorrowful: Agatha said little in explanation -until she had conducted her guest into an adjoining chamber, and pointed -out one object for his observation. Stretched upon a couch, grown to -boyhood, covered with wounds, and unchanged in person, save that his -deformities had now grown more manifest, lay extended the ghastly boy, -the only child of Agatha and the helpless Eustace. Courtenay trembled as -he gazed; but the mother’s looks were calm. “He is dead,” she said, on -observing the emotion of her guest; “what Heaven and Nature with so much -difficulty spared, the brutality of man has destroyed; he was my joy and -sorrow, and many a weary hour have I watched to snatch him from the -yawning grave: for ten years he has been my sole care; and for the -insults and scorn heaped upon his deformed and idiotic existence, he -found compensation in the tenderness of his mother. The small pittance -which I derived from my father was sufficient for our wants; and never -should I have called upon any former friend, but for the cruel deed of -yesterday; robbers from the waters broke into my dwelling, and pillaged -thence my property. I knew not how it was; I had gone to a distance to -buy food, and on my return found the poor idiot thus. My only attendant, -an old woman, had been wounded in his defence; and from her I with -difficulty learned, that the convulsive movements of the boy, and his -pointing hand, as his menacing eye followed their actions, had drawn upon -him their wrath and its brutal consequences. I am averse from again -appearing in the scenes which I have once and for ever abandoned, and -therefore I sent for thee, Courtenay, to spare myself the sad task of -interring the pale corpse of my boy, and drawing wondering and -inquisitive eyes upon my person and history.” - -Courtenay was pleased with the confidence reposed in his friendship. A -brother’s love might have done less for Agatha; it could not have -effected more. Her wishes were immediately performed; and he was -preparing, with unintrusive delicacy, to return to his home, when Agatha -for a few moments detained him; “You have deserved unlimited confidence -at my hands,” said she, “and you shall obtain it: he who is now numbered -with the ignominious dead desired it should be so, and I withhold it no -longer. You, in common with all the world, were ignorant of the motives -which impelled the unhappy Eustace to the deed which he perpetrated; but -you did not, in common with all the world, forsake him in his utmost -need: for you he drew up the story of his sorrows, and placed it in my -hands to be given to you only when I saw the fitting time; that time hath -arrived. The child of sorrow is dead, and I shall still more completely -retire from a world where insignificance and poverty are no protection -from cruelty and avarice; a convent will shortly receive me, and, if I -continue to live, a newer and better existence will be mine: if not, I -shall have done wisely in thus obeying the last command of Eustace.” - -Courtenay received the packet and retired; he lingered not a moment to -relieve the recluse of his presence, but returned to Winchester, after -receiving her commands to see her again in three days: he then hastened -to his apartment, and, with trembling avidity, read, in the confessions -of Eustace, the secret story of the fortunes of De la Pole. - -“I know that thou despisest me, Courtenay; I know that thou deemest me no -less a fool than a coward; thou didst bring me the means of an honourable -death, gavest into mine hands the dagger and the drug, and I have -rejected both: we disputed, differed, parted, met again, and again -renewed the subject; thou didst even deign to persuade the coward (so -thou thoughtest him) to act like a man; but thy entreaties were unheeded -and thy counsel rejected: he will die like a thief and a criminal—he will -be hooted out of life; and curses will be the torches to give light to -his memory, that it sink not into darkness and oblivion. - -“Said I not that I was a sacrifice? that my punishment was a propitiatory -offering? Now again I say to thee the same thing. Death would have few -horrors for me (for it is a thing I covet) without the ignominy of a -public execution; to offer my life for my wrong would be nothing, but to -offer it up thus!—This alone can satisfy immortal justice; this alone can -satisfy the spirit of the murdered man. Read and behold the meaning. - -“Thou knowest how fondly, contrary to his father’s hope, John de la Pole -loved the beautiful daughter of Philip Forester, thy kinsman; but thou -knowest not how much more fervently she was adored by the wretched -Eustace, and how tenderly the gentle Agatha returned that love. Hope -there was none; for what had I to bribe the greedy father of my love, -when John de la Pole could hereafter lay the fortunes of his house at her -feet? Philip suspected the state of his daughter’s heart, and had looked -deeper than I imagined into mine: he determined that a younger brother -was not deserving of his Agatha’s beauty, and, by cold civilities and -hints of my father’s and brother’s disapprobation, banished me from his -house. One thing alone gave consolation to my blighted heart, the -steadiness with which my father resolved against the marriage of John -with the object of our mutual passion. In one of the sad conferences -which I occasionally, though now but seldom, held with my beloved Agatha, -it occurred to my imagination, that though my father had resolved to -dispose differently of the heir of his house, he might not object to my -union with the object of my choice; and I received permission of my -beloved to make the attempt upon his feelings. I did so immediately, -and, with a rapture which I dare not now dwell upon, received his -permission, and his solemn promise to purchase the approbation of the -selfish Forester, by bestowing upon me one-fourth of his more than -princely fortune. He arranged to see Forester upon the following day: -the same evening I flew to Agatha. O Courtenay! didst thou ever love? -Those few blessed hours were the most happy of my life, and the last that -were so. We parted; Agatha radiant with happiness; I, to think, to hope, -to anticipate, to wish all things could share my transports, to love -creation, to love God. In the morning my father was found dead on his -couch; and the following month Agatha became the wife of my brother! -Courtenay! didst thou ever love? - -“Thou wilt ask, where was Eustace when his beloved was thus sacrificed? -Alas! sent to a distance, to execute some commands of that brother upon -whom I was so utterly dependent. He had discovered my love, and thus, -without my suspecting his intentions, prevented its consequences: he -hastened to Agatha, represented the ruin she would bring upon me, and his -determination to abandon me for ever, unless she became his wife; -Forester, who was his ally, threatened her with his curse; I know not all -the artifices used,—I never could listen to the detail. She became the -wife of the man she could not love, and I was suffered to wither beneath -his roof, while, with calm hypocrisy, he told his own tale, -ostentatiously enriched his younger brother, and declared he could not -live happy without him. Fool that he was!—stupid, uncalculating idiot! -He had torn asunder two burning hearts, and expected to smother their -fires; he had separated two devoted beings, compelled them to live in -each other’s presence, and yet expected them to forget. Agatha abhorred -his sight—his very aspect was loathsome to her. I saw her agonies,—I saw -her daily shudderings at every demonstration of his love; and cold dews -of death spread over my own heart when I beheld her submitting to his -fondness. I implored to be banished from the castle; I entreated to be -allowed the sad privilege of beholding Agatha no more: he could not trust -me from him, he said; and I was obliged to remain. Merciless idiot! -blind looker into the human heart! Had he consented, all might then have -been well; but how did he dare thus selfishly sport with torture? He -went on a journey for a few weeks; he commanded me to a distant part of -the country on business of importance to his interests: I went, but -returned ere half the allotted time for his absence had expired—to be -alone with Agatha—to see her unrestrained—to mingle my tears with hers: I -could not resist this one sad bliss, and I hastened back to enjoy it. - -“We met, the lover and the beloved, in grief—in madness—in despair! Oh, -wonder not, that when we parted guilt should be added to the burthen of -our sorrows; but the terrible consciousness of crime changed at once our -natures and our deeds. Agatha’s horror of her husband increased: and, -now that she was mine, I determined she should no more be his—to fly, and -rob the castle for the means of sustenance. Alas! I feared to expose her -to scorn, should we be unable to evade the pursuit of justice; and, even -if in this we should succeed, what means had I of subsistence when that -slender source should fail, proscribed, as we should be, in every part of -our native land? To live on, as I had lately done, was still more -impossible; since Agatha herself had armed her bosom with a knife to be -turned against her heart rather than again endure the horrors of her -husband’s love. Again and again we met in passionate, though gloomy -conference; and thus continued to waste the time in fruitless debate -until his messenger announced his approaching return. Despair gave wings -to my thought; Agatha’s eye glanced on mine; she drew the dagger from her -breast, and I snatched it from her hand. Our thoughts had spoken—there -was no need of words—we had understood each other without them. - -“I hastened to conceal myself in the New Forest, near the road through -which he must pass on his return. He had taken his confidential servant -with him, and, rather than expose myself to observation, I had determined -to fire at him through the trees, calculating and believing that the -servant would mistake the attack for that of concealed robbers, and fly, -leaving his master to his fate. But I had scarcely arranged my mode of -attack ere I heard a footstep in the road; I looked out, and beheld him -slowly advancing, with his eyes steadfastly directed towards the towers -of his castle, as if he sought out the apartment of his wife. At the -sight of him all prudence vanished—all recollection of the calm attack -which I had meditated passed away from my mind; I did not even observe -that he was alone: hatred and rage filled my heart, and I rushed upon him -like a wild beast, tearing him to the earth by the bare strength of -sinew, and inflicting many mortal stabs upon his breast: he grappled -fiercely with me, struggled hard to rise, and even drew his dagger, which -I broke in his grasp before he could strike one blow. He tore a lock of -hair from my head, but, during the terrible contest he had not uttered a -single word, till a deep and home-directed stroke upon his brow threw him -powerless on the sod, then he spoke gaspingly to his brother: ‘Have mercy -upon me,’ he said, ‘have mercy; I have wronged thee, but that is not the -heaviest of my crimes; I would live to repent: to expiate one, the -deepest, darkest, let me live; I dare not die. My father!—I overheard -his arrangements with thee—I could not bear to lose—he was found dead on -his couch—I smothered him in the night. Mercy, mercy! O Eustace! let me -live,—I am not fit to die!’ But his words raised a wilder fiend in my -soul, that scared away the spirit of mercy. He then had been the -monster—he!—I raved aloud, ‘Murderer! thou art not fit to live—hell gapes -for thee—begone!’ I drew my dagger across his throat; the blood gushed -upon my face, upon my hands; he grinned, scowled, gibbered as he sunk, -but he spoke and struggled no more. - -“I hastened home,—but I saw not Agatha, neither did I seek her during the -long and terrible night that followed the sunset crime: I dared not tell -her what I had done; I could not have borne to hear her speak of the sin -which I had committed. Towards the morning I grew calm; my fears and -horror subsided; I thought of the atrocious act of the guilty dead, and, -by degrees, persuaded myself that I had done an act of justice; I began -to calculate upon the consequences, and seriously consider whether, by -this deed, I had really achieved the consummation of my wishes—the -possession of my adored Agatha; she was my sister, the widow of my -brother; could I legally become her husband? And, allowing the -possibility, was it probable that I should be permitted to do so? These -considerations gave birth to the action which followed; I forged the -extraordinary will which gave the succession to me, but only with the -hand of Agatha; and it appeared the more natural, as, during the period -of her wedlock, she had borne no child to her husband. That night and -succeeding day was thus intently occupied. On the following morning the -corpse was discovered by you. I had not seen Agatha, but, on hearing of -her meeting the body, hastened to calm her mind, and prepare her for the -will, which was opened after the interment. I made use of the pretext of -another love, to appear repugnant to the wishes of my brother, and -quitted the castle to appease the inquietudes of Agatha, who entreated me -not to see her again until I could make her my wife. - -“You remember the reading of that will; you remember the arrival of De -Broke; poor wretch! his drunken falsehoods, his silly boasts, and above -all, his ungoverned insolence, has cost him fatally dear. I was not -concerned at the suspicion which fell upon him; on the contrary, I -rejoiced it had found such an object; but I trembled with horror when I -beheld him conducted to a dungeon, and reflected on the probability of -his paying the penalty of my crime. Guilty enough already, this -accumulation of sin appalled me, and I determined that innocent blood at -least should not cry out from earth against me. In the night previous to -the day fixed for his trial, which I dreaded equally, whether he should -be condemned or acquitted, I sought his prison, and, by an exaggerated -account of the popular rage against him, prevailed upon him to accept the -means of escape; his servant who attended him, terrified by the picture I -drew of his master’s danger, united his entreaties to mine. Hugh’s -courage and fortitude gave way to our solicitations; he fled, and -preserved his life at the expense of his honour and his peace. - -“I cannot express to you how deep was the pang the ruin of this man’s -character gave me, nor how I sunk from the eyes lifted to mine in -commiseration, whenever his name was mentioned before me; even now, now -that I have rendered back such severe justice, my heart sickens as I -recall the curses which I heard heaped upon his head as the murderer of -John de la Pole. I should have suffered less had they branded the -criminal unknown, but to hear an innocent man thus accused for me—O -Courtenay! thou knowest not, mayest thou never know, remorse. - -“I reasoned much even then upon the folly of this conduct; I said, I am a -cowardly villain, a sneaking murderer, who fears the consequences of the -crime he yet feared not to commit. Why should I be careful of this man’s -life? what is his safety to me? his death might be my security, at least -would prevent suspicion from falling elsewhere; are not his manners -brutal, his heart selfish, avaricious, and cruel? who will miss him from -the earth? and by whom will his loss be mourned? But it is my crime for -which he will suffer, and the curse of innocent blood will lie upon my -head: neither has he injured me, that I should doom him so hardly: I -cannot even taste the luxury of revenge. These thoughts disquieted me, -and, recurring more frequently than I could bear, influenced my conduct -in regard to the prisoner. ‘The means of escape shall be offered to -him,’ I said; ‘if, innocent as he knows himself to be, he be coward -enough to accept them, he is worthy of the opprobrium which will cling to -him, and I ought not to grieve for that ruin of character which he -himself alone will effect.’ - -“With this wretched sophistry I endeavoured to reconcile my conscience, -and, strange to say, I succeeded; care and regret departed from my bosom, -and I looked forward to the day of my approaching union with Agatha with -an impatience which I found it difficult to control: it came at length, -and under happy auspices, for all our friends were assembled around us, -and I saw in my beloved’s tranquil smile the scarce concealed joy of her -heart. - -“You remember that day, Courtenay—you remember the brilliant assemblage -and the gay festival of night—you remember how brightly sparkled the -jest, how sweetly sounded the song, and how every creature present seemed -wrapped in the delicious intoxication of the hour—you remember my parting -commands after Agatha had retired, to carouse till the day-break, and -make the young sun a witness of your felicity: you did so; it was a scene -of joy and splendour. Alas! there was another, and a widely different, -passing in a more retired part of the castle. - -“I must pause in my narrative here for a few moments; all that has as yet -been detailed has been plain and simple fact, subject to no doubts, -liable to no misconstructions; hitherto all has been clear; that which -will follow is wild, strange, and improbable—mysterious, incomprehensible -indeed, yet not less true than that which I have hitherto written. How -shall I make you understand what I have to present to your mind? In what -words shall I clothe a narrative so extraordinary as to prevent its -stamping me with the opprobrium of folly or madness? Even now, in my -dying hour, on the very steps of the scaffold, I hesitate at the thought -of being lightly esteemed by thee, or my sacrifice regarded as the result -of a weakened intellect or a disordered brain: it is more easy to die as -a knave than be lamented as a fool. - -“Agatha had withdrawn from the hall with her damsels, and I hastened to -follow her; she had retired to an apartment adjoining her bridal chamber, -and thither, wearied of the noise and mirth of the rioters below, I also -hastened. I longed for a delight I had not lately experienced, an -unreserved conversation with my wife, and to be allowed to dismiss the -coldness which, during the day, I had been obliged to feign towards her. -The damsels retired, and we were left to pour out our hearts to each -other in the unbounded confidence of our new relation, when we were -startled by hearing a slow and heavy foot steadily ascending the stairs; -as these were private, leading only to our apartments, Agatha was -surprised and offended. ‘Who would intrude at this hour?’ she demanded, -while her eyes turned anxiously towards the door. For me, a thrill of -horror shot through my inmost heart; I said, relinquishing the hand I had -till then so fondly clasped in mine, ‘_That is the step of my brother_!’ - -“And it was so, Courtenay: a moment more and the door slowly opened of -itself to give entrance to its master; John de la Pole entered the room -and stood between Agatha and me; his face was as in his dying hour, -ghastly and menacing, and every gash of the murderous knife upon his body -as frightfully distinct as on the night they were inflicted. In one hand -he held a lock of dark hair; the other was extended threateningly towards -me; and thus he stood between us, drawn from another world by the crime I -meditated against his bed, and an everlasting barrier before me. - -“My first emotion was astonishment—a boundless and stupefied -surprise—then a vague and horrid notion that my brother was not really -dead, that he had escaped alive from my hands, and was now come to accuse -and surrender me up to scorn. The interval which had passed since his -death was obliterated from my mind, and I felt as if that night had been -the season of the deed. I spoke in extenuation of my crime, accused his -selfishness, cursed his calculating cruelty; I implored his mercy, folded -my hands in supplication, and knelt before him in humble debasement. No -muscle of his countenance moved, and not a sound escaped through his -bruised and blackened lips; he did not even look upon me, but continued -to fasten his stony eyes upon the face of Agatha, who stood silent and -motionless as himself, gazing like a fascinated thing upon this aspect of -horror. I arose from my knees—shut my eyes—tossed my arms abroad to the -air—endeavoured to think I was in sleep, in drunkenness, in delirium: no, -_he was still there_!—I thought of the agony of tempestuous feeling I had -endured on the night following the commission of the crime, and, -believing that my jaded mind was suffering under the same infliction, -resolved to seek my couch, to restore my exhausted spirits by rest and -sleep. I made an effort to move from my place; I knew that motion might -recall my scattered senses; and I exerted myself to enter the chamber of -Agatha. Wilt thou believe me, Courtenay? the stern shadow anticipated my -movement, and, menacing me back, strode silently towards my bridal -chamber. At the door its menacing attitude towards me was changed for -one of command to Agatha; one bloody finger was raised to beckon her to -follow: she did so. Still stupidly insensible, gazing fixedly upon his -form, she followed the direction of his hand, and passed after him into -the chamber: the door closed upon them without a sound. - -“Now I began to think more calmly: the dead, cold thing was gone, and -there was life and air in the apartment; the feelings of this world came -upon me, and I became sensible of fear. I was safe; but where was -Agatha?—_he_ had beckoned her forth—was it reality?—she was gone—had it -been the work of imagination, she had still been there—but she might have -retired to her chamber alone. This was to be ascertained. I attempted -to enter—the door was fast; I called upon Agatha—there was no sound in -reply; I reviewed the last scene, considered the incidents of the past, -weighed the appearances of the present, and came at length to the -terrible conclusion that a spirit of the damned had stood before me, and -that Agatha was still in his grasp! You will not wonder that temporary -insanity followed this hideous idea: I grew wild at the thoughts of her -danger; I shrieked aloud for mercy; I tore my hair in agony, and beat at -the closed door with the utmost exertion of strength. I wonder even now -that none heard the uproar I made; but my cries remained unanswered—no -sound issued from the bridal chamber of the dead, and I continued to rave -until nature, exhausted, sunk speechless and senseless to the earth. - -“Morning had broken over the apartment when I awoke, and I was some -moments in recovering recollection of my state and circumstances; slowly -the truth came before me. I was lying extended on the bare ground, the -lights had burned out, and there was no trace of visitors having been -near me in my sleep. I arose and listened for some sound that might -direct my first movements, for now I knew not what to think nor to do. A -low sobbing from the chamber of Agatha rivetted my attention; I sprung -towards the door, and, to my astonishment, it yielded to the slightest -touch: I entered; Agatha was there, seated upon the bed, and gazing -around her with a look of agonising affright; she saw me on the instant, -and rushed into my arms. ‘Thou art here! thou art safe!’ she cried in -delirious transport; ‘and for this I am at least grateful; I deemed he -had destroyed thee. But thou didst leave me, Eustace. O quit me not, I -beseech thee! save me from him, Eustace, for thou alone canst!’ I -endeavoured to soothe her anguish, and, after some time, succeeded in -restoring her to tranquillity and composure enough to be made acquainted -with the real state of our circumstances; and I implored her to inform me -whither the ghastly phantom had led her, on their retiring from the -chamber. She shuddered at the question, and a wild and strange -expression passed over her countenance ere she spoke. ‘I will tell -thee,’ she said; ‘yet it is but little that I have to say. To this room -we came, and our footsteps wandered no further. Without a word he gave -his commands to me, and without a word I obeyed him. I ascended my -bridal bed, he had willed it so, and he continued to gaze upon me till my -head sunk upon the pillow; then the ghastly thing sat down by my side, -and though I closed mine eyes hard that I might not behold him, yet I -felt that the shadow of his unearthly face was upon me. Once I looked up -in the hope that he was gone; beholding him I shrunk, and would have -called upon thee, but the stony eye of the spectre grew larger, and a -fiendish pang passed over the immoveable face; then I hid mine in my -mantle that I might look upon him no more: insensibility succeeded, and I -slept; in the morning I awoke, and he was gone!’ - - [Picture: Agatha, Eustace, and the Spectre] - -“This was the tale of Agatha! thou wilt doubt its truth, nor can I wonder -at thy most natural incredulity: yet I would now give my few short hours -of life, precious as they may be, that thou hadst been present and _seen_ -her tell this story; I can give thee her words, her form of expression, -but what language of mine can portray her looks as she spoke, or describe -the harrowing tones of her voice as she cried to me for protection? I -doubted not; for these powerful witnesses would have carried conviction -to my mind, had I not already beheld the shadowy thing she spoke of. - -“What could I offer in consolation? We wept bitter tears together, and -mingled our tender grief. If we indulged a momentary hope that it was -but an illusion of the brain, and would return no more, we were quickly -undeceived at the approach of night. Again came the ghastly shadow, and -again was the spirit of Agatha chained by the sleep of death in his -presence. Nor were his visitations confined to the dark and silent hour -of night; when we met in the morning, to lament our fate and weep from -our stuffed bosoms the weight that pressed upon our hearts, then, with a -hideous familiarity, he would stand between us, mocking, with his -menacing grin and uplifted finger, the agony his presence created. - -“_Another_ night came; we sat alone, solitary, speechless, motionless; -hour after hour passed, and we moved not, except to cast stern regards -towards the door, or listen with repressed impatience to every sound in -the castle. Slowly, at last, came the step of the dead, heavily -ascending the stairs;—he entered—I rushed to meet him, and the long pent -up agony of my soul burst forth in madness uncontrolled. -‘Monster!—murderer!—destroyer of thy father and thy brother! why comest -thou thus to torture and not kill? why is thy bloody hand for ever -raised, and yet forbearing to fall? If thine aim be vengeance, -strike—strike—strike—thou blood-bespotted horror! and rend from hope and -from life those who dared to make thee what thou art!—Strike, thou -silent, sullen thing! that we may be as thou art, and learn to fear thee -not!’ - -“I darted towards him, but was arrested by some invisible barrier ere I -had traversed half the distance between us; I could not reach him, but -sunk, as if felled by an unseen blow, helpless and almost senseless, to -the ground: _he_ did not even look upon me, but again sternly summoned -Agatha from the chamber, as nightly he had done before. I—but wherefore -dwell upon these agonies? Suffice it to say, that these accumulated -horrors at length drove me from the side of Agatha to solitude and -reflection: sorrow came upon my soul—a sorrow less for my crime than for -its fatal consequences. ‘Alas!’ I said, ‘perhaps the tormentor is -himself more keenly punished by these hauntings than either of his -shrinking victims: said he not, in the hour of death, that he too was a -murderer? and did he not pray for time in which to expiate the sin? -Surely, surely, these visitations must be the hell of the parricide.’ - -“And a feeling of remorse arose in my mind, as I deemed it possible that -these unnatural hauntings might be involuntary. I had stabbed at the -life of my brother, and plunged his unprepared spirit into the hell which -awaited it; and surely a more bitter one than looking again upon the -secret deeds of the survivors, could not well be imagined. Agatha, too, -no longer wept over her separation from me, but hourly called upon Heaven -for pity and for pardon; madness and anguish passed away from her heart, -and sorrow and repentance entered it. - -“I could not repent; at least I could not feel self-condemnation to that -degree which I had been early taught was so necessary—that perfect sorrow -which abhorred the crime and the criminal, and which, they say, is alone -the gift of Heaven—_that_ I did not feel: still, still did my inmost soul -worship the thought of Agatha, and abhor the treachery of John de la -Pole. I could not regret that I had avenged my wrong—I could not repent -that I had attempted to make her mine; I knew that were the deed again to -do—again should I dare, and perform it. - -“Repentance then was not mine; but I despaired of peace, and knew how to -punish crime: I was not yet weary of life; and though tears of remorse -did not fill my eyes for my brother’s early doom, yet his unnatural -tortures now, and Agatha’s suffering, seemed to call for something like -justice from my hand. ‘Perhaps, in the stern mood in which I am,’ I -said, ‘the sacrifice will be greater than if repentance struck; and -believing myself sure of forgiveness, I hastened to make my peace with -Heaven. Yes; I will die—I will inflict death upon myself as I would upon -another, and expiate crime with blood!’ - -“But I hesitated still; death, contemplated so near, in any shape, was -horrible; but, dealt by the hand of the executioner—I shrunk from the -thought, and could not bear the shadow of a stain upon the honour of my -house; so I went on from day to day, dreaming of justice but rendering -none, till the birth of Agatha’s son. Thou wast surprised, I believe, at -the little emotion I betrayed at its sight: alas! I had long been -prepared for some object of horror, and now it was before me. Thou didst -behold the action of the ghastly child; thou sawest the menacing finger -upraised towards my head, and the calm determination with which I met -this image: its presence had banished my indecision. I believed now that -Agatha was lost to me for ever,—that Eternal Justice by this sign spoke -against me, and, in punishment of my hardness of heart, had thus -perpetuated the remembrance of my crime. Now, then, I _resolved_ to die: -I communicated my purpose to Agatha, and earthly feelings once more -gained the mastery over my subdued spirit, and burst forth in words of -grief and reproach, on observing that she evinced no horror at my -approaching fate, and scarcely attempted to dissuade me from my purpose! -Agatha, for whom I had dared and suffered so much—even she had become -indifferent to my destiny: it was indeed time to die! But I did her -wrong; sorrow had broken her heart, and repeated scenes of horror had -subdued and weakened her spirit. With the feeling common to her sex, she -sought consolation only in religion, and thought that to reconcile -herself with Heaven was all that was left her now: love had fled with -every other human passion, and far from regarding death as an evil, she -looked upon it as a passport to bliss, and was more ready to rejoice at -than deprecate my fate. Her conduct assisted my resolution. Now, then, -the first step was to be made—the most difficult and appalling—the rest -would be consequential and easy. It was necessary to begin, and I knew -of no better mode than that of rendering justice to the living. Hugh de -Broke had been ruined by me, and it was now incumbent upon me to restore -him to honour and to happiness: I set out for the distant and humble -dwelling in which, since his escape, he had been obliged to conceal his -name and dignity: he was stretched upon a sick-bed—a heart-broken and a -dying man: it was no physical disease of which he was expiring,—but -disgrace had poisoned the fountain of his blood, and shame had eaten its -way like a canker-worm to his heart. When he saw me, he shook off his -dying listlessness, and sprung upright in his bed. ‘What more wouldst -thou have, thou blaster of mine honour!’ he said, ‘of a ruined and dying -man? To thy pernicious counsel I owe the shame no after-conduct can -efface: cursed, cursed coward that I was! why did I heed or believe thy -murderous mercy? Begone, wretch! and let me die. I cannot shake off -this load of shame, but I shall sink under its burthen, and bequeath its -remorse to thee; go, wretch! and let me die.’ - -“He was submissively attended by his wife and son, who were earnest with -me to relieve him of my presence. Sorrow, and the near approach of -death, had softened his heart and chastised the natural brutality of his -manners; he looked and spoke more mildly to them, though, with all his -failing strength, he continued to heap maledictions upon me. My -humiliations were now to begin; I kneeled down by his side, detailed my -crime without any palliation, asked his forgiveness for the injury I had -done him, and finished by avowing my resolution to deliver myself into -the hands of justice, and restore his fame and happiness. - -“I was astonished, that during this confession no word had been uttered -by him whom it so deeply concerned. I looked up to behold its effect; he -was staring wildly at me, the strong energies of his spirit struggling -with the grasp of death to gain time to hear its termination; he strove -hard to articulate something; and finally whether he conquered for some -few moments the mighty power that was wrestling with him, or that that -power had now incorporated itself with his victim, and given him of its -potency, I knew not, but he suddenly grew calm and passionless, pain and -convulsion left him, his features assumed a pale rigidity, and his voice -the solemn earnestness of the grave, as he spoke. ‘I have no time for -question,’ he said; ‘but I pray that the truth may be upon thy lips: -soon, very soon, shall we meet again; and my pardon shall be truly thine -when thou shalt tell me that my boy sits with honour in the halls of his -fathers.’ He paused, placed the hand of his son in mine, and expired -without a groan. - -“What followed, I need not tell thee; the son of Hugh was restored, and -Eustace consigned to a dungeon. The attempts of the people to force from -me my secret, you know how I resisted; calmly and even proudly I went to -my prison and prepared myself to die. I had humbled myself to De Broke, -for to him I had done deep and particular injury; but to these men I owed -no other reparation than what my life would pay: what right had they to -demand further humiliation of me, or attempt to rend from my bosom the -mystery of its secret purpose? I would die unaccusing, save myself; I -would die, shrouded in gloomy dignity,—a man to be wondered at and -feared, rather than pitied and scorned. I will willingly furnish their -greedy eyes with the awful feast of death, but not their vulgar souls -with the struggles and humiliations of mine; my body is the law’s—is -theirs; my spirit is beyond their judgment. John de la Pole shall sleep -on, embalmed in good opinions; I will not raise up his pall to show them -what corruption festers beneath it; I would not tell them what he _was_, -though it should even lessen in their thought the horror of what I _am_. -Grand and silent death—majestic in thy obscurity—I wait to bid thee -welcome! - -“Thus far had I written, and thought that my story in the book of life -had come to its close, but other events have crowded upon me; and before -my death, (which will be on the morrow,) I would tell thee the incidents -of the last few days. Thou knowest how calmly I beheld thee depart from -my prison, and how little emotion I manifested at my fate; but when thou -wert gone, when I was alone, in chains, degraded, the enthusiasm of the -moment past, and my spirit inactive, I wept bitter tears at the -waywardness of my early fate; yet I relaxed not in my determination; I -came hither to die, and nothing was left me but to finish my purpose -nobly. It is my will to doom a murderer, and I am he so doomed. I wept, -yet persisted; cursed the cruelty which had destroyed me, and yet prayed -to my brother for pardon. Of the future I had as yet scarcely thought; -hitherto I had been solely employed about the method of quitting this -world, without much considering the terms of my admission to another; now -I pondered long, with anxiety, but not with fear. Creeds puzzled me—I -made not my own heart—I cannot be answerable for its opinions. I have -committed a deadly sin—I am about to expiate it with my blood—I cannot do -more; and is not this sacrifice greater than the cant of sorrow and the -whinings of prayer from one who never prayed before? The one is from -myself, the child of my resolution—the other the offspring of fear—But I -was distracted still, and bewildered. It was in this disturbed state -that I was startled by a light sound in my prison—I listened—a soft -voice, for the second time, pronounced in kindly accents, ‘My brother!’ -I started up and gazed around me; on the opposite side of my dungeon -stood the form of John de la Pole, but not as I had seen him last, pale, -menacing, and bloody, but with that mild aspect and gentle look that had -distinguished his early brotherhood, ere Agatha’s fatal beauty cut -asunder the knot that bound our souls together. ‘Thou hast done well,’ -said the gentle spirit, ‘thus to render up thy life for thy crime; thy -severe justice hath merited and obtained thy pardon; my sufferings, too, -the punishment for unrepented sin, thy firmness hath terminated; and the -day of Agatha shall henceforth flow more peaceful. Soon shalt thou be -with me, O brother! and the kiss of immortality shall be given to thee by -my lips: weep not—doubt not—but bear all things steadfastly; in thine -hour of agony I will stand by thy side.’ - -“A tender grief overpowered my spirit as he spoke, and tears fell from my -eyes. I extended my arms as if I would have embraced him, but the -barrier between the living and the dead could not as yet be passed, and -the shadow receded from my touch. But this visitation had brought joy to -my heart and tranquillity to my spirit, and the arrival of Agatha at the -prison still further reconciled me to my doom. ‘Thy sacrifice is -hallowed,’ she said; ‘thou wilt die, but I must live to expiate my crime, -as the slave of thy ghastly son, till Heaven shall call him to itself. -_He_ stood by my couch last night; smilingly he looked upon me, as in the -days of his early love, and bade me live and hope: in this world I shall -behold him no more! but thou, my beloved! thou art for the distant land, -and the abode whither he is gone before thee. Oh that I might share thy -doom, as I have already partaken thy guilt!’ - -“We parted—let me not dwell upon that—we parted for ever; for me there -remained a mighty duty to fulfil, and from which I did not shrink—no, not -even when those who had been my friends sought to wring my secret from my -heart by the infliction of the torture: I pitied _them_, but not myself. - -“The day of torture came; thou wert by my side, and didst urge a -voluntary death to rescue me from agony and the stare of burning eyes -eagerly watching my pangs. I rejected thy counsel; yet didst thou not -forsake me, but marched to the scene of my infamy by my side. All -around, as I went thither, did I look for the promised appearance of my -brother, and trembled lest I should not behold him. ‘Surely this is mine -hour of agony,’ I said, as I ascended the steps of the scaffold; -‘wherefore is he not by my side?’ And the guest from the other world,—he -beneath whose scowl my heart had for months been withering,—was desired -with more impatience than ever I had felt for the presence of earthly -friends. I had not long to fear or to doubt—he was there before me; on -reaching the scaffold, I beheld him standing by the block, and calmly and -silently smiling a welcome to his brother. Thou didst behold my -firmness, and the multitude saw my composure with wonder; but they beheld -not the cause; they saw not that _he_ was looking on, and that I drew in -resolution from his smile, and firmness from his awful brow. - -“The ineffectual agony was past—curiosity was silenced—and I was -condemned to die; and to-morrow I _shall_ die,—from all that I have loved -hated, or valued, I shall be torn to-morrow. The last sunset is falling -upon my paper, is gilding my pen as I write; to-morrow it will sparkle -upon the edge of the axe, and illuminate a brow from which the inward -light will have departed for ever; to-morrow will be the scene of my last -humiliation: but _he_ will be there to witness it, and convert it by his -presence into a triumph; and, when all shall be over, when the last -mortal throb shall be past, what then shall be my destiny? ‘Thou art -pardoned,’ he said; ‘and an immortality is before thee!’ Oh, then let me -hope for an immortality of peace! Now, then, I will go sleep—exhausted -nature must be recruited for her great labour to-morrow—for these broken -limbs, these strained sinews, and this bruised flesh, must needs want -repose, ere they can encounter the task of fresh exertion. Serve me -well, ye mangled limbs, but to-morrow, and I shall require your service -no more.—Courtenay, good night.” - -Such was the tale of the fratricide, and of him who was his victim: of -her who survived the deaths of both, no more was heard; for upon -Courtenay’s going to the cottage at the period she had appointed to -receive her last commands, he learned she had quitted it two days -previous, but had left a small parcel to be given to him: it contained a -few remembrances of herself and Eustace, and the following letter:— - - “COURTENAY— - - “In giving thee the papers containing our story, I have obeyed the - last wish of him whose lightest word was a law to me; but I cannot - look on thee again after this communication. Grieve not for me, for - my lot will not be wretched; the death of my child has released me - from the world, and I hasten to withdraw myself from it: I had - arranged all things for the purpose before I sent to request thy - presence. Endeavour not to discover me; such search would be - fruitless and vain. I retire from the kingdom; and in a convent of - Clairs, beneath the habits and rules of the order, and under another - name, conceal for ever, from the eyes of the world, the person, the - crime, and the sorrow of - - “AGATHA DE LA POLE.” - - - - -THE LORD OF THE MAELSTROM. - - -PART I. -THE RAVEN. - - - —Hell is empty, - And all the Devils are here. - - SHAKESPEARE. - -SOMEWHERE about the year 112, in winter or summer—we are not exactly -prepared to say which—died Olave the Second, one of the early kings of -Denmark; he was a “fellow of no reckoning,” for he took no account of any -thing that occurred during his reign, except the making of strong drink, -and the number of butts in his cellar. His majesty, it must be avowed, -was in the presumptuous habit of forestalling the joys of heaven, (we -mean Odin’s,) that is to say, he impiously got drunk every day of his -life, before the regular allowance of fighting, the customary number of -enemies’ broken heads, and his own orderly death upon the field of -battle, bore testimony that he was properly qualified for such supreme -enjoyment. Olave in his life was a happy fellow; for, never having been -sober during one hour of it, he had not the misfortune to hear all the -ill-natured things that his courtiers and subjects said of his -enormities, behind his back, or when he was asleep. It must, however, be -acknowledged that, even among the unscrupulous Danes, who were not at -that period remarkable for their practice of sobriety, Olave was a filthy -fellow: to this hour he is held up as a monument of brutality and -stupidity, and the memory of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel -to sin, was not more devoted to execration among the Jews, than that of -king Olave the Second among the Danes. On his death-bed, however, when -he could no longer swallow his usual enlivening potations, blue devils -beset his nights, and conscience twitted him with his ill-spent days. He -had never broken a head in his life, except by proxy; and how could he -make his appearance in Valhalla without a skull to drink out of?—to knock -at the gates of Valasciolf without a goblet in his hand?—The thing was -impossible; it was clear he would be kicked through Asgard, and sent to -fret in Nifthiem, where the burning claws of Lok would set fire to the -good liquor incorporated with his being, and reduce him to the condition -of an eternal, thinking cinder!—Miserable anticipations! he tried to -weep; but water, which he had hitherto scorned, now scorned him, and -absolutely refused to come at his desire: he shed tears of mead, which he -caught in his mouth as fast as they fell, partly from fear lest Odin -should remark them, and partly because he could not endure to see good -liquor wasted. - -But all things have an end—in this world at least—and so it was with the -life and repentance of king Olave the Second; he died without the -drinking-cup he had regretted so deeply, and before he had time to frame -a decent apology to Odin for venturing into Valhalla without one. There -was a world of business now to be done at the palace of Sandaal: a dead -king to be buried, and two living kings to be crowned; for such was the -will of the lamented Olave, that both his sons should succeed him. They -were princes of very different characters, yet their father, it should -seem, loved them equally, as he divided his dominions very fairly between -them, to the no small disgust of the elder prince, Frotho, who, like the -imperial Octavius, some years before, could not bear a divided throne. -This worthy in character resembled, in no slight degree, his excellent -father, of dozy memory, for he loved to drink much and fight little,—more -especially as his younger brother Harold had a decided vocation for the -latter employment, and none at all for the former: to him, therefore, he -left the charge of the glory of the Danish crown, while he, for the -present, contented himself with drinking to his successes. This good -understanding, however, between the princes could not last for ever. -Frotho was, after all, only half a drunkard, and therefore extremely -sulky in his cups—more especially when his queen Helga seated herself at -his elbow to twit his courage with the heroic deeds of his brother. -Queen consorts should not meddle with politics, they never do anything -but mischief—and so it proved in this instance; for Frotho grew -absolutely delirious, kept himself entirely sober for three whole days, -buckled on his wooden target, put himself at the head of his troops, and, -swearing to be revenged upon his brother, marched on an expedition to -Jutland. The expedition neither answered his intentions nor -expectations; the men of Jutland were too many for king Frotho, for, -headed by Feggo, (the murderous uncle of the philosophic Hamlet, whose -father was prince only of this part of Denmark,) they drove Frotho “home -without boots, and in foul weather too,” as Glendwr did, long afterwards, -king Harry Bolingbroke. Frotho could not stomach this affront—the -beating was hard of digestion: his subjects made mouths at him too, and -mimicked a race whenever he appeared in public. So he sent his brother, -king Harold, who was a fighter to the back-bone, to chastise the -Jutlanders, which when he had done most effectually, Frotho grew more -angry still; he detested his brother, dreaded his popularity, feared his -wisdom, and quivered at his anger,—so he began to consider seriously how -he might cleverly and quietly put him out of the way. - -King Frotho had two counsellors, neither of whom ever agreed with the -other in the advice they gave his majesty: the reason was tolerably -obvious, for the one was an honest man, the other a rogue, and, like the -Topaz and Ebene of Voltaire, they bewildered the unhappy monarch with the -diversity of their opinions and advice. On this occasion, however, king -Frotho troubled only the rogue for his advice, which he was pretty -certain beforehand would not differ very widely from his own. Eric Swen -was an unprincipled ragamuffin, who hated Harold, because he had -discovered that Harold hated his vices; and, as that prince had two sons -who were rising into manhood, he shuddered at the prospect of two or -three strict warrior reigns, which would certainly bring virtue into -fashion: the prince had refused him, too, the hand of his sister, which, -to make the refusal more bitter, he had bestowed upon his rival in the -council and camp, Frotho’s general, Haquin. All these offences were -carefully summoned up, to inflame his ire against Harold, by the devil, -in the shape of Frotho, who promised him—Heaven knows what—both on earth -and in Valhalla, if he would only push king Harold from his share of the -stool, and leave both halves of it to Frotho. - -Notwithstanding all the provocations on both sides, the confederates were -two or three whole years before they could “screw their courage to the -sticking place,” that is, to the pitch necessary for the murder of king -Harold. They had sent fifty inconsiderable nobles, whom they had found -troublesome, to Asgard, without ceremony; but Harold was a king and a -warrior, and required a good deal. “If we could but pour poison into his -ear,” said Eric; “Or into his cup,” replied Frotho; “Or stab him in his -sleep,” said Eric; “Or coax him out hunting with us,” replied the -brother, “and give it to him quietly in the forest.” But none of these -safe plans would answer;—so Frotho, accompanied by his sole and trusty -counsellor, rode off for the forest, to find the cave where, tradition -said, had resided, from the days of the “Avate” of Odin, his enemy -Biorno, the descendant of Lok, grand nephew of Surter, and first cousin -to the Wolf Fenris and Serpent Midgard. Frotho, however well disposed to -beg the aid and advice of the sorcerer, by no means felt at ease when he -considered the family to which he belonged: the wolf and the eternal -earth-circling snake were known to bear no very great partiality to the -race of Odin,—and Frotho, they knew, if they knew any thing, was a true -son of their enemy. Still the Danish monarch trotted on with his squire -till they reached the centre of the forest. - -“After all, Eric,” said his majesty, as they trotted on cosily together; -“after all”—but, as an historian, I must make one observation here: you -are aware, dear reader, that the Scandinavians of the year 112, and some -time after, did not use the same simple, plain, common-place sort of -style which they have adopted to express their meaning now-a-days. If we -may believe their own writers, they were always in alt, gave their -commands in a kind of heroic prose, and carried on dialogues in a sort of -rambling blank verse. It must therefore be obvious to you, dear reader, -that I spare you their language, and only give you their sentiments, -which, to the best of my humble ability I will translate for you into -decent colloquial English, the better to carry your patience through the -long-winded history which I am preparing as a trial for it. But to -return to Frotho the fifth of Denmark. “After all, Eric,” said he, “I -have perhaps no great reason to fear these ugly immortals: as I am going -to consult their kinsman, and am withal very well disposed to put an end -to the race of Odin, (that part of it at least most devoted to him,) I -think they may be civil to me. My own son Sevald is the only member of -the family I wish to preserve, and I may soon mould him to my own -opinions. If the sorcerer will only dispose of Harold for me, or tell me -how I may safely dispose of him, I shall not haggle on the terms of -assistance; I will do any thing to serve him or his, which may not -interfere with my own safety, or rob me of the diadem I am so anxious to -wear alone.” Eric was about to reply to his magnanimous master, but -paused, half afraid, as he discovered they were really in the sorcerer’s -neighbourhood, for the yawning mouth of the cave was actually staring -them in the face. Frotho, as became him, now took the lead, and marched -dauntlessly forward, though not without a glance backward now and then to -see if Eric was close behind him, and as any sound struck upon his ear -that bore any resemblance to a hiss or a howl. At length, after many -turnings and windings, he found himself in a cavern of large dimensions, -broadly lighted by a huge iron lamp, suspended from the upper part of it. -He turned round to make some remark to his patient tail-piece, but was -petrified to observe that he had fallen to the earth stiff and insensible -to every thing around him. The Danish monarch’s cheeks waxed pale, and -his knees began to smite each other; nevertheless he grasped the hilt of -his falchion, as a slight noise on the opposite side withdrew his -attention from the insensible Eric Swen; there stood an old man of -reverend aspect, mildly but steadily gazing upon the king: “Art thou he -whom I have been so long taught to expect?” said the sorcerer; “art thou -the king of the race of Odin, alone chosen by his invincible foe to -render a service to the son of Lok, and deserve the everlasting gratitude -of his children? If indeed thou art the appointed, I bid thee highest -welcome, for the task decreed to thee hath been denied to the immortals, -above whom the grateful Lok will raise thee.” - -Frotho recovered his spirits at this address; half his business was -already done, for his wishes were anticipated. He had been so little -accustomed to receive compliments from his subjects, that his opinion of -his own endowments had not been particularly high; but now he began to -think he had mistaken himself, and was really a much greater man than he -had suspected. He readily promised obedience to the sorcerer, upon -certain terms, and assured him of his assistance when and wherever it -might be demanded. The magician then proceeded to inform him that he was -himself a descendant of Lok, and an ally of the spirits of fire, those -daring beings who had for so many thousand years waged war with various -success against Odin and his warriors, and which warfare would not cease -till the end of the world; when, during a night which was to last a year, -there would be a general battle, in which Earth, Niftheim, and Asgard, -would go to wreck, and the conquering party be elevated to a newer and -more beautiful heaven in Gimle,—while Nastrande, a still gloomier hell, -would be made out of the fragments of the old one, for the accommodation -of the party conquered. “Balder!” exclaimed Frotho, starting at this -part of the story,—for he never liked to hear any thing of the old hell, -which he thought quite bad enough without the spirits troubling -themselves about the creation of another; “but I thought, sir sorcerer, -that the wicked alone would be punished in Nastrande after the long night -and battle of the gods; I thought”—“Exactly so, my son,” interrupted the -sorcerer; “the wicked certainly; for the conquered _will_ be the -wicked—that is beyond dispute; but _who_ will conquer is not so certain; -perhaps Lok, perhaps Odin—each, as far as I see, have an equal chance; -take part then with us, and share our danger and glories in the next -world, and our certain assistance in this.” To this world, then, (as -king Frotho had at present more business in it,) he limited his wishes, -and gave Biorno his steady attention as he proceeded in his narrative, -“Odin,” the magician continued to observe, “though utterly unable to -chain entirely the powers of Lok, had just now decidedly the advantage; -for he had a few hundred years before seized upon his eldest son, the -unwary Surter, whom he had caught out of his own territories, and wedged -him, in the shape of a raven, into an iron cage, there to remain till one -of his own race, a kingly son of his blood, should release him:”—a -condition from Odin probably implying an eternal punishment,—as that -divinity, who does not appear to have been as omniscient as he ought, -never imagined any member of his house would have been found silly enough -to fulfil it. “Now then,” continued the magician, “I have consulted the -eternal powers, and find that thou, Frotho of Denmark, art the king -destined to this wondrous deed, and its following union with the -immortals.” Frotho gave his assent to all and any thing proposed; and -the sorcerer immediately began his operations; he raised his ebon wand -above his head, with many magical flourishes—turned himself rapidly -round—then more slowly, pausing at each of the cardinal points, and -calling north, south, east, and west, upon the tremendous name of Lok. -At that sound, so terrible even to the ears of spirits, the thunder began -to rumble and the fires of Niftheim flash through the gloomy cavern; -something like music was heard, and, though the concert was hardly better -than those performed by king Frotho’s own band during his drinking -orgies, yet as the voices (and they were many) solely employed their -powers in singing his praises, and the approaching deliverance of the god -by his means, his majesty was pleased to think nothing in heaven could be -half so fine. Presently the earth shook, and the sides of the cavern -rocked; Biorno pointed to the bottom of the cave,—and Frotho beheld it, -after a few violent convulsions, suddenly open, and disclose to his view -an enormous raven, in a gigantic iron cage. “Behold,” said the magician -to him, “the prison of the immortal prince of fire!—in that shape he must -remain a hundred thousand years, unless a kingly hand of the line of Odin -shall restore him (by breaking the bars of his iron cage) to power and to -liberty. Monarch of Denmark! go,—and success attend thee.” Frotho -obeyed immediately; he made a desperate attack upon the iron cage, but -failed in his intention of rending away its bars; he made many earnest -efforts, but all in vain,—the bars remained unbroken. The Dane paused in -vexation—he was frightened and mortified—and, by the howls and groans -which resounded on all sides of the cavern, it was evident the anxious -spirits of Niftheim sympathised in his distress: Biorno too, afflicted -beyond measure at the ill success of the enterprise, threw himself upon -the earth, tore off his magical cap, plucked up his hair by the roots, -and howled as loudly as the noisiest of them. This dismal sight drove -Frotho desperate; he collected all his energies for one mighty pull, -rushed upon the cage, grappled with the bars, and, in an instant, threw -them at the sorcerer’s feet, who sprung up like an elk to receive them. -Frotho stood majestically silent, while an uproar, such as no human ear -has ever heard since, began its diversions in the cavern; a thick black -mist quickly filled its whole space, so that Frotho could but -indistinctly distinguish the figures who made up the ball; millions of -shadows were flitting about, and millions of voices were laughing, -singing, shouting, groaning, and cursing. Midgard raised his glittering -snaky head above the darkness and the shadows, and greeted the monarch -with a cordial and complimentary hiss; wolf Fenris tried hard for a -good-natured howl; and the grim Hela, their sister, the queen of death, -tortured her ghastly face into a smile, as she capered nimbly backwards -and forwards in the festival, animated by the thought of the many meals -Frotho would furnish for her famished maw. But, at length, the immortals -grew weary of their own noises—the infernal jollification came to an -end—the mist cleared off—the fires went out—the uproar died away,—and -Frotho’s courage returned to its half-bewildered master, who took heart -once again to look about him. He was alone (to his great joy) with -Biorno, except that, in place of the raven and his cage, there sat, -reposing upon a light cloud, his beautiful brow diademed with his native -element, the triumphant prince of fire, in all the pride of beauty and -victory. “Frotho, son of Olave,” said the sweet voice of the spirit; -“bravest among the brave, and wisest of the sons of Odin,—what is thy -will with me? Tax my gratitude, preserver; ask, and obtain thy wishes.” -Frotho waited for no further encouragement, but directly stated his -wishes to reign alone in Denmark, and sweep off all the collaterals of -his house, who were such bars to his glory. “Thy brother’s life I give -thee,” said the spirit; “destroy him when thou wilt, but be cautious to -keep it secret: his elder son shall in vain endeavour to oppose thee—I -will baffle his claim, and proclaim thee sole monarch in Denmark; but -touch not the life of Haldane; he has offended Lok, and the god demands -the victim, whom he will receive from no mortal hand: for Harold the -younger, do with him as thou wilt, but, if thou spare his life, he shall -have no power to harm thee; go—reign—prosper;—nothing shall do thee wrong -till thyself shall fulfil a decree which is gone forth respecting thee; -thou shall prosper till thy hand shall unite thy own blood to that of thy -deadliest foe: beware of this, and triumph.” “Prince of the powers of -Niftheim,” said Frotho, “surely Harold, my brother, is my deadliest foe, -and he has no daughter to whom I can give my son; but I will be mindful -of thy words, and remember thy warning.” The spirit then desired him, -should any event disturb his tranquillity, to come to the cavern and -strike thrice upon the side where stood the iron cage: “Biorno shall meet -thee,” continued he, “and yield thee, in my name, such help as thou -mayest require;” then, slowly and silently encircling himself in the -clouds which surrounded him, he gradually disappeared from the sight of -Frotho, leaving the cavern illuminated only by the light of the iron lamp -which hung from its centre. Biorno, too, had vanished, leaving him alone -with Eric Swen, who, now easily awakened from his trance, prepared to -follow his master home, who simply informed his confidant that he had -consulted the magician, who had advised the murder of Harold, and -promised him success in its performance. This was readily undertaken by -the profligate Eric, who, watching, with a lynx-like assiduity, his -opportunity, plunged his sword in the heart of the unhappy Harold with -such right good will and judgment, that the prince died before he knew he -was wounded: nor was Frotho behind his confederate in the good management -of a difficult affair, and skill in getting out of a dilemma; and this -was especially proved, when the body of Eric Swen, transfixed by a -well-aimed javelin, was found stark and stiff by the side of king Harold, -and Frotho ordered every body to believe that these enemies had fallen in -single combat with each other. - -There was one Dane in the court of king Frotho who took the liberty of -believing contrarily to the royal orders; this was the brave Haquin, the -brother-in-law of the two kings, and their favourite general and -minister; he knew Frotho, and he suspected foul play. He secured the -persons of his murdered master’s two sons, and, giving out that Haldane -should challenge his father’s crown against Frotho, in an assembly of the -states, retired from the court to his own towers, till the nobles should -be pleased to appoint a day for hearing the claim of his ward. In the -mean time, Haldane himself had not been idle; he employed a good number -of his vacant hours in making tender love to his beautiful cousin, the -young Ildegarda, and laying at her feet the crown which he _was_ to have, -and which Ildegarda accepted, as a thing of course; for she already -considered herself the queen of Denmark. Haldane was tenderly beloved, -and they each looked forward to the day on which he was to claim his -father’s crown from the ambitious Frotho, as that which was to seal their -love and their happiness. - -That day at length arrived; the states, the nobles, the warriors, and a -great part of the troops, were assembled in an open plain, where Frotho, -on his throne, awaited the arrival of his kinsman. His majesty had -arrayed himself with peculiar splendour for this solemn occasion; his -long hair, now slightly tinged with grey, floated down his back, while -all his face was clean shaven, except his upper lip, which exhibited a -most magnanimous moustache; his breast, arms, and legs were painted in -the brightest blue, and the most fashionable pattern in Denmark; a short -petticoat of lynx skin, fastened round his waist by the paws of the -animal, descended to his knees; and from his shoulders to his heels, -secured round his neck by claws of gold, fell the robe of royal -magnificence, the mantle made of the skins of many ermines; his feet were -defended by shoes of the sable of the black fox; his neck was ornamented -by a chain of gold, and the regal circle of the same precious metal shone -through his locks around his temples; on his left arm was a target of -leather, studded with brass nails of unusual brightness and immense -value; in his right hand he held the sceptre; he sat upon a throne -covered with the hides of wolves, and over his head floated, in proud -sublimity, the standard of Denmark, the raven. - -People may talk as long as they please about innate dignity and the -majesty of mind, but the majesty of fine clothes has a much greater -influence upon popular opinion,—else wherefore that elderly proverb which -sayeth that “fine feathers make fine birds?” Every body knows that king -Herod’s silver petticoat made the stupid mob of Judea mistake him for a -god; and on this day, so important to Haldane, Frotho’s amazing -magnificence made _his_ people mistake him for a hero. So strong ran the -tide of popular opinion, that when Haldane, simply habited, mounted on -his snow-white steed, and only attended by Haquin and a few of his -father’s friends, rode up the area, they scarcely deigned (though he was -rich in all the pride of youth and graceful beauty) to consider him worth -looking at; all eyes were turned to Frotho’s painted waistcoat and superb -ermine cloak; and Haldane also beheld, with extreme disgust, that all his -own friends, and the warriors favourable to his claims, who had fought by -his side under his father’s banner, had been carefully excluded from the -council, which he beheld supplied by the creatures of his uncle; he saw -that his cause was lost before he could say a word: he was not daunted -nevertheless; he demanded his right from Frotho, who, refusing to admit -his claim, was challenged by the youth to decide the quarrel on the spot. -“The states and the troops are present,” said the prince; “let them be -witnesses of this combat, which thy ungenerous ambition must render -mortal: if thou desirest a double crown, shew that thou knowest how to -defend it; descend from thy throne, meet me fairly, and let Denmark be -the reward of the conqueror.” Slowly, very slowly, king Frotho rose from -his throne, for he saw that something was expected of him: although not -precisely a coward, he had no mind to encounter his nephew, whose feats -of arms he well knew: and earnestly and anxiously he put up a prayer to -Surter to remember his promise, and baffle his kinsman in this trying -emergency. Surter was not deaf; for scarcely had the monarch put forth -one leg for the purpose of descending from his throne, ere a wonder -attracted the attention of the whole assembly; the sound of rushing wings -was heard from a distance, and slowly, sailing steadily through the clear -air towards his point, appeared a gigantic raven: black as the shining -locks of Odin was the magnificent and stately bird, who, tranquilly -passing over the multitude, suspended himself in air over the head of -Frotho, and, hovering steadily above him, clapped his enormous pinions in -triumph. Haldane suspected a trick—Haquin was startled—but the multitude -beheld a miracle, and the will of Odin clearly expressed by his own -particular messenger: the bird hovered in the air a few moments, to -witness the general acknowledgment of Frotho, then, amidst the deafening -shouts of the people, ascended slowly upwards, cleaved through the -clouds, and vanished. - -Haldane stood apart, during the scene, in proud contempt of the -ingratitude of his people; and the multitude were making too terrific an -uproar to allow his few friends one word in his favour. Frotho, pleased -by the timely aid of Surter, was grateful for the first time in his life; -and, remembering the commands of the spirit, abstained from taking what -he yet scarcely knew how to spare, the hated life of Haldane. Assuming -an air of paternal interest and kindness, he bade the young prince retire -from his presence and kingdom, without fear of molestation. “Son of my -brother,” said he, “seek another kingdom for thy rule, this the gods have -given to Frotho; retire peaceably, and take with thee what part of my -treasure thou wilt.” “The crown, then,” boldly replied the prince; “for -what is there, traitor! in thy power to bestow, that is not already mine -by right? No! mean-souled coward! I scorn thy courtesy, and I defy thy -anger.” But this gallant resistance availed nothing in a lost cause; his -own party counselled him, for the present, to get out of the reach of -Frotho’s javelin; and, too wise to disdain advice alike given by friends -and enemies, he obeyed their wishes, and, after taking a tender leave of -his betrothed Ildegarda, and promising to claim her as a king, withdrew -to Sweden to solicit aid from its warlike monarch in defence of his -title,—aid which he did not receive; for king Frotho soon after received -notice that he had been murdered on that inhospitable coast soon after -his landing, and, as it could never be ascertained by whom, Frotho -silently congratulated himself upon the sure and ready vengeance of his -ally and divinity, Surter. Haquin, alarmed by this circumstance, and -more than ever suspecting the honesty of king Frotho, withdrew from court -with the young Harold, now the sole surviving son of his murdered master, -and, proclaiming him lawful king of Denmark, set up his standard in the -heart of the country. Many powerful nobles, disgusted by the cruel -brutality of his uncle, immediately joined him; and Frotho, frightened by -danger into valour, and relying upon the promises of Surter, put himself -at the head of his troops, and prepared for a civil war. - -Many skirmishes took place between the hostile powers, though nothing -very decisive occurred; but the troops of Frotho had generally the -advantage, and always when the king commanded in person. Joy of this -discovery nearly upset his majesty; he began to think himself a great -general as well as a gallant warrior: he got exceedingly drunk with some -of his old cronies who had made the discovery, and, during the deep sleep -which followed this little extravagance, Haquin attacked his camp, beat -his generals, carried off his son Sevald a prisoner, and nearly seized -upon his sacred majesty himself, who knew nothing at all of the matter. -Poor Sevald was marched off for the camp of the enemy, in a transport of -sorrow and despair. - -“Be not offended, prince,” said the good Haquin to him when he was -brought before him in his tent,—“be not offended that the chance of war -has placed thy person in my custody for a season; it is no dishonour to -be the prisoner of Haquin. Our war is with thy father, not with thee; -and should Harold succeed, even to the slaying of his uncle, he will -never wrong thee, but yield thee thy just right, a second throne in -Denmark: be not disturbed therefore at the slight accident of this war.” -This was kindly meant, but it entirely failed in its purpose, and Sevald -would have still continued to grieve if he had not discovered that fair -princesses are better comforters than old soldiers. He learned that his -lovely cousin Ildegarda was in the camp of her father, and he concluded -that things were not quite so bad as they might have been. Sevald -admired his fair kinswoman extremely, and, as Haldane’s death had set her -free, he worked out the prettiest little romantic scheme possible for -putting an end to the horrors of civil war and restoring peace to -Denmark: he determined to entreat his father to give him Ildegarda for -his bride, to adopt Harold as his partner, and thus to reconcile all -parties to his ascendancy; but, unhappily for poor Sevald’s delightful -scheme, all the persons concerned in it were, though for different -reasons, materially against it. Ildegarda, true to the memory of -Haldane, would listen to no second love,—Haquin, faithful to the cause he -had adopted, would rather have consigned his daughter to the grave than -to the arms of a son of Frotho,—and the Danish monarch would entirely -have lost the little wit he possessed, at the bare possibility of such a -destructive union as that of his own blood with that of his deadliest -foe, for such now had the father of Ildegarda become to him. When he did -hear it, he grew absolutely wild with terror and rage; he imprecated the -most deadly curses upon his son, should he venture to espouse his cousin; -and flew off like a madman to the cave of Biorno in the forest, to -consult him in this most desperate emergency. He found the sorcerer at -home, and willing to assist him, which he civilly did by the best advice -in his power; he desired him to return to his camp and attack the troops -of Haquin, promising to commit that leader, his daughter, and prince -Sevald, safely into his custody; at the same time hinting that, as Surter -had done as much for his friend as could decently be expected, he need -not call upon him for further assistance, which, unless from his own -imprudence, he would not need, and Lok had prohibited them from -supplying. Frotho thanked him for past favours and present services, -and, promising to demand nothing more for the future, they parted good -friends, though not to meet again in this world at least, whatever might -happen in the other. Frotho had no sooner reached his camp, than he -hastened to profit by his friend’s advice, and instantly experienced its -salutary effects; he defeated his antagonists in a pitched battle, -recovered his son Sevald, and, to his infinite joy, possessed himself of -the persons of Haquin and his daughter, though Harold escaped in the -battle, and hid himself securely from the pursuit of his enemy. Had -Frotho followed the suggestions of his own cruel heart, he would have -decided Haquin’s destiny at once by taking off his head; but, fearful of -his nobles, who held the chief in high esteem, and having likewise no -hope of discovering Harold, except through his friend, he resolved to -spare his existence, but to keep him in close imprisonment with his -daughter, whose influence over Sevald he still dreaded, and whom, as the -daughter of his sister, he dared not injure farther. The poor prince -wept bitterly over his ruined hopes, and Frotho rejoiced at the -delightful consummation of his: he enjoyed himself in his own way, -killing and drinking by turns,—till, in a fit of madness and -extravagance, he impiously declared that he had a Valhalla of his own, -which he would not change for Odin’s, upon any terms that divinity could -offer. Every thing was happiness in the palace, and Frotho was the most -mischievous and merry of kings. - - - -PART II. -THE ISLE OF THE MAELSTROM. - - - What have we here? a Man or a Fish?—Legged like a Man, and his fins - like arms. SHAKESPEARE. - -“EVERY sweet hath its sour,” saith a very respectable old ballad,—and -truly there is wisdom in the saying. King Frotho’s sanctity, as a -crowned prince of the holy race of Odin, became at this period, for the -first time, somewhat of an inconvenience to him. In the midst of his -festivities, howls and cries penetrated to his palace, and reached his -ears, though surrounded by buzzing flatterers, and rendered dizzy by -strong potations. His people of Norway were unhappy, and they called -upon their common father to relieve their misery. A pest had arisen -among them which no one could conquer, for no one knew how to attack: the -frightful whirlpool of the Maelstrom had a guest, and the desolate island -of Moskoe an inhabitant; it was neither man, beast, bird, nor fish, that -had taken up his residence in this part of his Danish majesty’s -dominions, but a most extraordinary compound monster, possessing all the -faculties of each of these several creations. As he had his little -island entirely to himself, the want of society suggested to him an -expedient by way of amusement, and also of remedying this evil—he -employed his leisure in making descents upon the Norwegian coast, and -carrying off the grown inhabitants, four or five at a time, and the -little children by dozens, whom he devoured with as little remorse as he -would young rabbits or dried herrings. The people were terrified, and -the nobles began to bestir themselves; they sent out armed men in -well-built boats, headed by an able leader, and desired them to bring in -the monster prisoner; but the lord of the Maelstrom, so far from being -brought to consent to this arrangement, exactly reversed the orders of -the Norwegian ministry, for he sunk all their boats, and carried their -crews prisoners to his island. Frotho heard this pitiful tale with much -indifference, till they besought him to go in person against their enemy, -well knowing that no magic or infernal power could succeed against the -race of Odin;—then he sprung up in alarm, and declining, in his own -person, all pretensions to superior sanctity, sent one of his best -generals with a band of his own chosen troops, in two gallant vessels, to -seize or destroy the monster. All Norway assembled on the coast to -witness their successes; they saw the ships sail gallantly on, and, on -the opposite coast, the giant monster rush into the waves to meet them. -With a strength against which they could not contend, he seized the -luckless vessels, drew them coolly and steadily on to the frightful gulf -of the Maelstrom, and then, swimming back to his island, left the noble -ships to be sucked into the frightful bosom of the gulf.—The waves swept -over them, and the tale of their deeds was told. - -Frotho was frightened into sobriety when this news reached him; Denmark -became as clamorous as Norway in the matter, and he was compelled to -promise that he would exert his sanctity, and go in person to the attack -of the monster: but he delayed as long as he possibly could, and, under -pretence of making preparations, gave the fiend of the Maelstrom time to -eat half the children in Norway. At length “delays became dangerous” -even to Frotho himself; he was obliged to depart, and, well armed, well -guarded, and well attended by a resolute band of the bravest of his -nobles and chiefs, set sail, on a fine sunny day, for the desolate isle -of the Maelstrom. His magnanimous majesty could not, however, help -shivering at the first glance of the island; but he took courage, on -remarking that the beast did not come out to meet him, nor advance to the -attack as in the former instance; so he landed in good spirits on the -island, promising himself immortal glory in his conquest. A sufficient -band was left in charge of the vessels, and Frotho, with his chiefs, went -boldly forward into the island. - -In the first few miles there was nothing to astonish them; rugged rocks, -a roaring sea, and desolate naked heaths, were all that greeted the -travellers: they had expected nothing else, for the Moskoe was well known -to most of the party, and had never been suspected of sheltering a -paradise in its bosom. Such, however, to their boundless astonishment, -the heroes now found to be the case. A beautiful country arose amidst -the desolate isle; and, after the first five miles, hills, dales, fertile -valleys, richly wooded groves, and sparkling rivers, said a thousand -smiling good-morrows to the travellers. The scene was too charming to -terrify, else the total absence of anything like human inhabitants might -have been sufficient to startle king Frotho, and make him doubt whether -all was as it should be in this particular part of his dominion. There -was a total silence around them, unbroken, save by the sweet warblings of -birds, or now and then the light foot of the flying deer, as, scared by -the clatter of their arms, they fled from them into the forests. Thus -they proceeded till they arrived before the gates of a majestic palace of -black marble, whose open portals courteously invited them to enter. -Frotho paused—so did his nobles; it was finer than any thing in Denmark; -infinitely larger, grander, bolder, blacker, than the palace of Sandaal, -the royal residence of king Frotho himself,—so that it was clear no human -hands had reared it: but whose hands had?—a puzzling question, which king -Frotho would not take upon himself to answer. - -But the portals stood invitingly wide open, and king Frotho was waxing -weary; so, without any further debate or permission demanded, they -marched into a stately hall, where invisible cooks had made successful -preparation for a magnificent supper; Frotho looked and longed. There -was venison, noble venison of the flesh of the elk, roasted wild boar, -and a cistern of excellent fish delicately stewed in whale fat; there was -a bowl of hydromel, in which king Frotho might have been drowned, and -another of milk, that might have served him for a bath:—in short, the -temptation was too great for the tempted; and though king Frotho well -knew the danger incurred, even by a son of Odin, in tasting enchanted -food, yet he could not resist the whale fat and the hydromel. “The -monster certainly expected me,” said he to his attendants. “He is -willing to make his peace with you,” said they to the king. “It would be -uncivil not to taste his good cheer,” said the master. “Let us shew that -we accept his submission,” replied the servants. So they all sat down -with one accord to the feast, and ate, and drank, and were merry. - -The bowl of hydromel was empty—Frotho was looking into it disconsolately -with one eye (for the other was asleep), and growing angry with his -nobles, who had assisted him too heartily, and been over-zealous in -obeying his commands to pledge him to the health of their entertainer. -After grumbling and growling for some time over the huge and now -dismal-looking bowl, his majesty took it into his head to be displeased -with the inattention of his host, who had failed to remark and replenish, -as he ought to have done, the empty bowl of departed hydromel. “Lord -beast of the island,” said his majesty, at length, having thought till -his thirst grew intolerable; “lord beast of the island, I will permit -thee to be viceroy in Moskoe, but thou must not spare thy hydromel when -thy master deigns to visit thee. For thy good cheer, I thank thee; thy -meat is of the best, and abundant, but, by the burning wheel on Balder’s -breast, thy drink was scanty; and I command thee hither to supply me with -more.” A rumbling of thunder and a long terrific howl was the answer to -the speech of the monarch. Frotho shivered with affright, for he thought -he recognised, amid the uproar, the voices of his old acquaintances the -illustrious snake and wolf, cousins of his sorcerer friend Biorno; and, -as he was a little diffident of their conduct, notwithstanding his -services to Surter, he did not altogether relish the meeting, under -present circumstances; so, ensconcing himself in the centre of his -gallant little band of valiant warriors, he patiently awaited what was to -be the second part of his entertainment. This was settled in an instant; -neither Fenris nor Midgard broke upon the supper party of the monarch, -but a being more horrible than either, and infinitely more hideous than -his or any imagination had already conceived of the monster of the -Maelstrom gulf. A stern gigantic shape entered the hall, and stood -steadily face to face with king Frotho and his nobles: his features were -frightfully flat, and two sunken fiery eyes shot terrific glances from a -visage almost entirely covered with dark and grisly hair; long black elf -locks hung down upon his shoulders, huge teeth grinned through his grisly -beard, and his fingers and feet were furnished with claws which were -worthy of Nebuchadnezzar himself; his enormous body was covered with -black bear-skins, so disposed as to serve him for a whole suit; and his -huge hand grasped a monstrous club, which seemed very desirous of a -nearer acquaintance with his majesty of Denmark’s brains. The monster -contemplated the group for a moment in silence; he suffered them even to -draw their swords and advance exactly one step towards him, when he -suddenly lifted his terrible club, and, without striking a single blow, -laid them all prostrate at his feet. He then approached king Frotho; the -son of Olave shrunk from the uplifted club, and bellowed out, in terror -and haste, that he was the king of Denmark. “And thy errand?” said the -monster. King Frotho was silent. “I know it,” observed the spectre; -“and for its presumption, but for one thing which I expect of thee, would -bind thy trembling feet for ever to the spot where thou standest staring -at me. Hark thee! thou fool of Surter’s making! who hopest to overcome -the invincible by human arms,—hear, and obey what I shall command thee. -I do not hate thee, and would not harm thee, for thou art the friend of -Lok; but my wrath against the kingdoms must be appeased, and my divinity -acknowledged. I demand thy daughter. A spotless virgin of royal blood -must come voluntarily hither to be sacrificed on this island, and thou -must conduct her: do this, and henceforth I too am thy friend; neglect -it, and my thunders shall shake thy palace of Sandaal, and this club dash -out thy brains and scatter them over thy sovereign throne.” - -King Frotho looked aghast—not at the condition of his safety, but his -utter inability to fulfil it—there was no cheating such an enemy as -this—so he told him the plain truth, that he had no daughter, and humbly -apologised for the want of one. The monster yelled at him, and again -lifted up his club. Frotho, in agony, besought him to have pity, and -then suddenly recollected that he had a niece who was his prisoner, and -whom he very readily offered to his disposal. The monster hesitated;—at -length, in reply to Frotho’s earnest entreaties, he consented to spare -his life, upon condition that, in the space of twenty days, he should -land the princess on the island, and deliver her safely into his hands, -to be sacrificed by his own high priest in his palace; and promising, -should Frotho fail in his engagement, on the very next day, to shake -Sandaal about his ears, and dish up his carcass as a meal for Midgard. -Frotho sealed his promise with a solemn oath, and the monster dismissed -him with a kick on the throne-honouring part of his person, which sent -him not only through the palace gates, but one mile forward in his -journey to the coast, which long before he had gained, his panting train -overtook him, being driven out by the lord beast, to wait upon and -console their disgraced and afflicted master. - -King Frotho had no intention, rogue as he was, to cozen the Moskoe -monster; on the contrary, he was desirous to obtain his friendship and -forbearance towards his subjects and the little Norwegian children for -whom he had evinced such cannibal prepossessions. He was not sorry, -either, so effectually to dispose of Ildegarda, whose union with his son -he had such good reason to fear. The difficulty would be to persuade the -princess to go voluntarily to be eaten. He was ingenious -however—naturally fertile in expedients—and he soon hit upon a method of -persuasion which he deemed infallible: he told the poor princess that the -monster demanded her or her father as prisoners; that he allowed her to -choose, and if she thought proper to decline, he should ship off old -Haquin immediately, to be stewed in whale fat, and served up for supper -with milk sauce, according to the pleasure of the monster, in the marble -palace of Moskoe: for his own part, in relation to herself, he pretended -he did not clearly understand to what the lord of the island had destined -her, but he hoped nothing so terrible as a roast or a hash. Ildegarda -wept, but came into the scheme quicker than Frotho had anticipated. -Haldane was dead, and her father’s life in danger; by the sacrifice of -her own, which was now really become indifferent to her, she could at -least preserve the last of these beloved beings, and therefore she did -not hesitate. Making Frotho swear a tremendous oath (which she knew no -Dane dared break), to release her father on his return from Moskoe, she -prepared to accompany the king, and, in less than twenty days, Frotho and -his beautiful victim landed on the island, and prepared to march to the -black palace alone. - -They had not proceeded far on their journey, when their progress was -arrested by the appearance of a singular cavalcade coming to meet them; -this consisted of a magnificently painted chariot, drawn by four -snow-white rein-deer, each of whom, to the astonishment of Ildegarda, had -feet of pure gold: behind it came the monster-man himself, mounted upon a -coal-black steed of extraordinary size and beauty, who pawed the earth -impatiently, and, snorting and foaming as he reared, threw his -magnificent mane from side to side, as if weary of the slight restraint -which his rider appeared to impose upon him;—the latter had now a -bear-skin cap upon his head, on the top of which sat a monstrous raven, -decorating it by way of crest; and another on his wrist, with infinite -grace and gravity, seemed ready to serve him in quality of falcon -extraordinary. The cavalcade paused on remarking the strangers; and the -grim monster, advancing to Frotho, sternly demanded, “Comes the maid -willingly?” “She does,” replied Frotho; “and”—But the monster no longer -gave him any attention: he did not even look at Ildegarda, but, bending -his head down, towards his horse’s ears, gravely and mildly asked, “Steed -of heaven, art thou weary?” “No,” replied the horse; “but I have to-day -been so long upon the earth, that its gross air is beginning to affect -me—the sod is heavy to my feet, and somewhat checks my swiftness: let me -relieve my legs, I pray thee.” The strange monster nodded his grisly -head in reply, and Frotho beheld the courser slowly and deliberately draw -up his four black legs, and let down three white ones in their places. -The king began now to guess his company; “It is the wondrous steed of -Odin,” said he in a whisper to Ildegarda; “the immortal eight-legged -Sleipner: but what is he who rides him?” The princess had no time to -answer this question, even had she been able, for the monster seemed -determined to have all the conversation to himself. He spoke to the -raven on his head: “Hugo,” said he, “take the reins, guide my rein-deer -smoothly, and conduct the lady to the palace: and you, Mumin,” added he -to the bird on his wrist, “hasten homewards, and see that all be prepared -for the victim.” At these terrible words, the tears of Ildegarda began -to flow, and Frotho prepared himself to make a speech. The monster -heeded neither the one nor the other, but nodded to Ildegarda to ascend -the chariot, which when she had done, he turned round to Frotho, lifted -up his terrible club, and exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, “Go!” It was -but one word, but the tone and the action weighed more than five hundred -with Frotho, who, fearing to hear it repeated, darted from the party, and -set sail for Denmark without once looking behind him. - -In the mean time, Ildegarda was conducted by her ill-looking escort to -the marble palace, and left by him in the same hall in which Frotho had -rested on his first arrival: here, too, she found a supper prepared for -her, though in a somewhat different taste from the former; but the -princess had no inclination to eat—indeed she felt determined not to be -fattened before killing, and threw herself upon the earth in a paroxysm -of grief and despair. Suddenly, soft and sweet music broke upon her ear, -and the beautiful voice of some holy unseen thing thus sung soothingly to -her sorrow:— - - When the thunder-bolt cleaveth - The trembling sky— - When the mad ocean heaveth - His wild waves on high— - When the coiling snake waketh - From the heaving earth curled - And upreareth and shaketh - An agonised world— - - When his coil thrice he foldeth - Around the night-born, - Till the gazer beholdeth - Red blood fill her horn— - When Valkyries scatter - The clouds which they tear, - And their steed hoof’s loud clatter - Is heard in the air— - - When on oak tops the trampling - Of their hoofs echo loud, - While their snorting and champing - Is lost in the cloud— - When wizards are breaking - The sleep of the dead, - And the shadows are waking - From each gory bed— - - When the dog of hell howleth, - As the sheeted dead glide - Where the queen of death scowleth, - Grim Fenris beside— - When Surter assembleth - The lost round his throne— - Then the murderer trembleth, - And the murderer alone. - - But then, guiltless beauty, - What hast thou to fear? - All owe thee their duty, - All homage thee here: - The life thou hast given - The immortals will claim; - And Rinda in heaven - Stamps thy star-written name. - -The princess listened in breathless astonishment, and, when the sweet -sounds died away, spoke in cheerful tones to the friendly singer. -“Thanks, gentle magician,” said she aloud; “I submit to the pleasure of -Odin, and will not be ungrateful for thy anxiety; see, I will partake of -thy hospitality, and then retire to rest confident in thy gracious -protection.” Ildegarda then ate something of the repast, and the moment -she had concluded, the dishes and bowls retired of themselves from the -table, without any assistance, through the doors and windows of the -palace. While she was lost in astonishment at this singular attendance, -the doors on the opposite side of the hall opened of themselves, and she, -supposing it a summons for her attention, immediately passed through -them, and heard them close behind her. She traversed several stately -rooms, till at length she stood in one more magnificent than the rest, -and which, from the circumstance of the doors closing when she entered -it, she concluded was designed by her host for her chamber. Grateful for -his indulgence, she determined to accept his courtesy, and threw herself -down upon her couch to sleep: satisfied, she reviewed the events of the -day, and found she had little reason to complain. “I could even be -happy,” said Ildegarda, “if I were assured of the safety of my father.” -The wish was instantly gratified; a large curtain on the opposite side -was suddenly withdrawn, and, represented on a magic mirror, the princess -beheld her father in his own palace, conversing earnestly with his -attendants. The vision lasted but a few moments—the curtain fell again -before the mirror, and Ildegarda, in a transport of gratitude, thanked -aloud the courteous monster, who thus sought, as he had promised, to -offer her the homage most pleasing to her feelings. - -Ildegarda now tried to compose her spirits to sleep,—the pale moon had -risen over the island, and was pouring a flood of calm cold light into -each apartment of the palace,—suddenly, her beams were eclipsed by a -light so glorious that the senses of the princess ached as she -contemplated the wonder; she looked up to discover the cause, but -mortality drooped under its excess of glory, and she bent downwards -towards the earth; a soft voice called upon her name, but the princess -could not reply; then the beautiful being, who was resting upon the -light, beheld the embarrassment of her beloved, and, dismissing part of -the effulgence by which she was surrounded, stood visible to the mortal -sight, and Ildegarda beheld her beloved goddess, the guardian of her -youth, the divine object of her innocent worship, the radiant Rinda, the -daughter of the sun, the beloved of Odin and Freya. - -Ildegarda bent her brow still lower to the earth, and kissed the fringe -of the mantle of her goddess; then the most lovely of those lovely -beings, who float on their ether thrones round the domes of Valasciolf, -spoke tenderly to the fairest of her worshippers. “Thou hast done well -and wisely,” said the daughter of heaven to the child of earth, “in thus -offering thy life for thy father and thy country, and thou hast not -disappointed my hope; I carried up the perfume of the holy deed to the -foot of the throne of Odin; pleased, he took it from my hand, clothed it -in light, and placing it on a branch of Hydrasil, the tree of heaven, -bade it blow and expand into an immortal flower, to commemorate thy -virtue, and remind him of thy deserving. Child of my love—hope all—fear -nothing—endure with patience—and thy reward shall be most glorious.” The -goddess then recalled around her the extended beams of light, and, -concentrating their brightness round her person, again became -insupportably effulgent to human vision; in the next instant she was -gone, and the glory she had left died away when unfed by her presence. - -How sweet was the sleep of Ildegarda that night, and how blessed was her -awakening on the morrow! Morning, the gay bride of Balder, beheld her -descend joyfully to the hall, after adorning her lovely person with an -elegant dress, selected from many, which the unseen hands of her watchful -attendants had placed in her apartment for that purpose. Arrived in the -hall, she expressed a wish to breakfast; and instantly the courteous -dishes glided in from doors and windows to the table, attended by a -grave-looking bowl of milk, which steadily sailed on till it placed -itself in the centre, where it remained till the princess, by rising from -table, dismissed its services for the present. She then roamed through -the vast gardens of this beautiful place, and talked to the birds and the -deer, fondly hoping and expecting that they were enchanted princes and -princesses, and, like the black horse whom she beheld on her arrival, -endowed with the faculty of speech; but, after much conversation on her -own part, she was compelled to resign this pleasing illusion, and believe -that they were merely real birds and real deer, who could only sing and -leap. She then returned to the palace, wandered over its spacious -apartments, and amused herself by counting the passages and doors. Still -the day went off heavily, even with the aid of these time-killing -pastimes; and when the hour of supper arrived, the princess welcomed it -as sincerely as if hunger had been the instigator of the pleasure her -countenance expressed; she seated herself at the table, and was earnestly -and anxiously employed in coaxing the birds to partake of it,—when a loud -clap of thunder shook the palace to its foundation, and terrified all -appetite from the poor princess. She had hardly time to think of its -cause, ere it became apparent, for the monster-man himself entered the -hall, and clad in his customary dress, stood still in the middle of the -apartment. Although his appearance was as usual, yet his manner was -entirely different, for his step was slow and irresolute, and his voice -mild and timid; he scarcely ventured to look up as he asked, in a humble -and supplicating manner, if the princess would permit him to pay his duty -while she supped. Ildegarda, somewhat re-assured by his gentleness, -requested him to use his pleasure in a place where unquestionably all -things were at his disposal. “Not so, gracious lady,” replied the -courteous monster; “I will not stay in your presence, but with your -express permission: my power I cede to your beauty and virtue, and am -content myself to be the first subject of so lovely a sovereign.” This -gallant speech was made with so much humility and respect, that Ildegarda -was not alarmed by its tenderness; and the monster, to shew (after she -had granted permission) how highly he valued this trifling favour, and -how little he was disposed to encroachment, declined the seat which, -after a struggle, she offered him, and seated himself upon the ground, at -a considerable distance from her. Touched by this humble homage and -generous delicacy of a being so powerful, and at whose mercy she so -entirely was, the princess so far conquered her abhorrence, as to present -him with food and drink; the former he declined, but he took the -again-summoned bowl of milk from her snowy hand, and, with a gesture of -respectful gratitude, tasted the balmy liquor, as if to indulge her wish. -At length, after a long silence, he asked her if she could be happy in -the island? “I hope so,” replied the princess; “But will you tell me, sir -sorcerer, what has thus singularly changed my destiny? I came hither to -die—yet I live,—and anxiety is even manifested by my enemy for my -happiness. How am I to understand these contradictions?” “Call me not -your enemy, beautiful Ildegarda,” replied the monster, “for that I have -not been; destiny had decreed you to be a victim, though not of death; I -am but its instrument to work out its intentions; the sacrifice of your -liberty only was demanded, and your generous resignation of life itself -has impelled me to love your worth, and lighten, as far as my power will, -the burthen of your sorrows. I cannot release you from this rock, but I -can surround you with pleasures, and render your bondage supportable.” -Ildegarda was pleased with this explanation, and, after thanking her host -for his generous intentions, withdrew to her chamber, though not till she -had accorded to Brandomann (for that he had told her was his name) -permission to attend her on the next evening to supper: this was an -honour she would gladly have declined,—but she felt it would be -ungracious, and that he had some right to calculate upon her -complaisance. The next night came, and Brandomann was -punctual—conducting himself in the same timid manner—though, observing -the dislike of Ildegarda towards him, he put an end to the interview -earlier than usual, and quitted her presence in sorrow. The princess was -sad that she had inflicted pain, yet she could not but hope that the -hideous being would not again seek her society. In this she was -disappointed;—he came at night, as before, and seated himself silent and -sorrowfully at her feet; he spoke not, and scarcely ventured to look at -her, till she, affected by his grief, offered him the bowl and bade him -drink; he took it with a smile—the poor monster intended it so, but the -frightful grin which distorted his features was so odious, that Ildegarda -sickened with affright, and heartily repented her condescension. -Brandomann understood her disgust. “Ildegarda,” he said mournfully, “I -too well know how justly I must be an object of abhorrence to the eye of -beauty; I will not give you pain therefore—though it will destroy the -only happiness I have ever enjoyed, I will intrude no more into your -presence,—I will not destroy the little felicity which fate has left -you.” He arose to retire; but the generosity of the princess overcame -her reluctance,—she was not proof against his noble self-denial,—and, -rising hastily from her seat, she requested, entreated,—nay, commanded -him to continue his visits. Brandomann was but too happy to obey; and he -retired comforted from her presence. The next night Brandomann was not -so silent—he exerted himself to amuse and interest his lovely prisoner; -and he succeeded admirably when he spoke of the present state of -Denmark—the disorders of the king—the disappearance of both the princes, -sons of Harold—and the courage and integrity of her noble father; upon -this theme he discoursed till tears of pleasure filled the eyes of the -princess, whom he repeatedly assured of Haquin’s safety. “Should you -wish a confirmation of the intelligence which I give you,” continued -Brandomann, “on the first day of every month examine the magic mirror in -your chamber; it will satisfy your curiosity, by representing your father -and his employments; but only at that time must you consult it.” Still -Brandomann continued to talk, and Ildegarda to listen, till she forgot to -wish for the hour of separation, and even suffered the monster to retire -first; the next day she grew weary ere evening, and waited with something -like impatience for the supper hour: it came at last, and Brandomann with -it, who perceived, by the reception she gave him, that he was no longer -so unwelcome a guest as formerly. Animated by this belief, he again -exerted all his powers to interest the princess; he related to her the -early history of her country, and the exploits of the greatest heroes, -her ancestors of the race of Odin; he then went on to discourse of the -Scaldres, their singular union, their mystic occupations, and their -magnificent poems; he himself, he remarked to her, was of this privileged -order, and, without wearying her attention, recited some of his own -composition and those of his noble brethren. Ildegarda was charmed by -his discourses. Balder had touched his lips with eloquence, and Brage -had rendered his voice melodious, and many words flowed over his lips, -sweet, yet powerful, as a torrent of silvery waters. The princess was -pleased while she only listened,—when she looked, the spell was broken. - - - -PART III. -THE GUESTS. - - - Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. - - SHAKSPEARE—_Tempest_. - -DAY after day thus glided on without much variation, though not so -heavily as formerly. One evening Brandomann said to her, “Your mornings -must still be wearisome to you; perhaps it might give you pleasure to -travel around this little island; when such shall be your wish, summon -aloud your carriage, with the snow-white deer, (that which brought you -hither,) and it will instantly attend your command.” The princess was -impatient, till the next morning gave her an opportunity of indulging -this new pleasure;—for when our pleasures are few, every little variation -is hailed as a new one;—she sprung lightly from her couch, and, with -beaming eyes and a throbbing heart, ascended her chariot, which, at her -wish, waited at the gates of the marble palace. For some hours she was -delighted to be borne swiftly by the coursers of light through flowery -vales and blooming gardens; but at length grew weary of the silence and -monotony which every where surrounded her, and the inability to utter or -reply to an observation. The deer looked at her with their intelligent -eyes, and seemed to understand her feelings. “Yes, turn then, my lovely -deer,” she replied in answer to their silent interrogatory; “bear me -again to my home.” She entered the marble hall. It was many days since -she no longer startled at the clap of thunder which announced the -approach of Brandomann, and now she heard it with pleasure. “You have -been amused to-day,” said he to her as he entered. “Not much,” she -replied; “although I blush to say so; I would be happy if I could, yet I -cannot help feeling that solitude is melancholy.” “Alas! yes,” replied -the lord of the Maelstrom; “but there are companions to whom it is -preferable. If I did not fear offending by my presumption.”—He was -eagerly interrupted by Ildegarda, who accepted the embryo offer with -delight; and her manner had such an effect upon the monster, that again -the princess repented her condescension. He made ample amends for his -hideous joy, however, on the following day, when attending Ildegarda on -her journey, by his timid and gentle modesty. Mounted on his coal-black -steed, he respectfully followed her brilliant chariot, and never, except -in answer to her summons, ventured to approach her side. The princess -was naturally generous, and this conduct secured her confidence. She now -encouraged him to converse, called him frequently to her side, and took -pleasure in calling forth and listening to his observations. On their -return to the palace, a huge raven flew down from a tree upon the -shoulder of Brandomann, and whispered something in his ear; the latter -immediately turned to Ildegarda: “Princess,” he said, “the only friends -who ever enliven this solitude by visiting me, are now on the island; -will you permit them to attend you at supper?” Ildegarda consented -joyfully: the thought of once more seeing human beings filled her spirit -with rapture; and, hastening to her apartment, she spent the intervening -time in dressing her lovely person to the utmost advantage, not only for -her own sake, but also to do honour to the taste and generosity of -Brandomann, who had been most lavish in his preparations for her toilet. -At length she descended, and, with a palpitating heart, entered the hall. -At the door she was met by Brandomann himself, who courteously led her -forward to present her to his guests—they rose to receive her—but imagine -the astonishment of Ildegarda!—No words can do justice to her surprise, -as she surveyed the assembled party: neither knight nor lady, spirit nor -fiend, greeted her entrance,—but on one side stood an enormous wild -boar—on the other a beautiful white she-goat—in front stood the -eight-legged steed of Odin—and the two ravens, whom she had seen on her -landing on the island, had perched themselves with infinite gravity upon -Brandomann’s club. The princess turned to her friend, and was about to -demand an explanation, when she was prevented by the beautiful goat, who, -with an air at once kind and dignified, welcomed her to the island, which -she said was happy under the government of the good Brandomann, the -favourite of Odin, and whom all good spirits loved: the boar made her his -best bow—Sleipner assured her of his devotion—the ravens were happy in -the honour of her acquaintance—and Ildegarda, after replying to each of -these extraordinary visitors, recovered something of her composure, and -smilingly sat down to supper with her company. She was about to -apologise for the want of proper fare, when she beheld them supplied with -their own particular dishes by the same unseen attendants who so -assiduously waited upon her. Oats and hay, in a silver manger, were -placed before Sleipner—a huge tray of nuts and acorns sallied in, and -stood stationary at the tusks of the boar—a salad was the supper of the -white goat—and a raw beef-steak was provided for the accommodation of the -ravens. The princess began to be amused with her situation and company, -and listened to their conversation with considerable interest: Mumin and -Hugo, the raven messengers of Odin, were talking over some of the -divinities of Asgard; and Sleipner mentioned a journey which Thor the -Thunderer intended shortly to take upon his back, to correct the impious -inhabitants of Jutland, who, since the ascension of the murderer Feggo to -his brother’s throne, had totally neglected his worship. “Is the -murdered prince in Asgard?” demanded Brandomann. “He has a magnificent -palace in Valasciolf,” replied the huge boar, “where he resides among the -other heroes and the divine family and ministers of Odin, and with them -usually spends his nights at the banquet in Valhalla; but he is not a -favourite warrior there: if he was no more amiable on earth than he is in -heaven, I am not surprised at his wife’s wishing to get rid of him. -Hamlet is also there, and almost as unpopular as his father. Can you -imagine it possible, he spends all his time with Forsete at Glitner, and -has grown so wise and disputacious, that he is continually instructing -Odin himself; nay, the other morning, just before the sounding for the -combat, he spoke so learnedly to that blind Horror, whom we dare not name -out of heaven, and who is already sufficiently inclined to mischief, that -Thor, provoked, lifted up his mallet to knock out the shadow of his -brains,—but Balder interfered, and his eloquence and Lofna’s smile -restored peace to heaven.” - -“And how go on the happy Scaldres;” demanded Brandomann; “what is become -of the unlucky Hiarn, whose skill in singing gained him a crown?” “He is -singer-in-chief in Valhalla,” replied Sleipner; “and indeed his strains -well deserve this distinction. But see,” he continued; “the princess -looks to you for an explanation: take your harp, Brandomann, and let it -tell the story of Hiarn.” “I obey you,” replied the lord of the -Maelstrom; and caught up his harp and sung— - - THE LEGEND OF HIARN. - - The heart of the monarch was savage and wild, - And his red hand with life-blood was gory; - He spared not the matron, he spared not the child, - Proud youth, nor the head that was hoary. - - Then Hiarn arose—and his melody’s voice, - As over the wild harp it swept, - Brought relief to the land, bade its nobles rejoice, - For the dark monarch listened—and wept! - - And his sorrow was holy, for into his heart - Those tones tender pity had flung— - And Fate whisper’d, “Thy soul shall with music depart”— - So he died, while the sweet harper sung. - - Then Hiarn was king—for the fierce nobles came - Subdued by his powers alone, - They crowned his bright brow, proclaimed his great name, - And lowlily knelt at his throne. - - Then Hiarn was king, and— - -“Alackaday!” said the boar, who did not appear to have any very great -taste for music, and who was beginning besides to be weary of -Brandomann’s dismal ditty; “alas! for the poor harper; it is a pity, -after such a glorious opening, the close of his history should have been -so dismal.” “What was it?” demanded Ildegarda; “tell me, I pray you, -what was the fate of Hiarn?” “A prince of the blood,” replied the -courteous boar, “the warrior Fridleff, who did not understand music, -challenged the crown from Hiarn: he was too good a musician to make any -thing but a contemptible soldier, so, as might have been expected, he -sunk under the first blow of Fridleff. But, grieve not for him, charming -princess, he is well rewarded for his short period of suffering; a throne -in Asgard—a palace dome in Valasciolf—are surely higher blessings than -even reigning in Denmark”—“Serimnor!” said the white goat, interrupting -the conversation, and pointing with her horns to the stars, which were -now rapidly gemming the heavens; “see, the lights in the palaces of -Asgard are lit—the deities and heroes are on their way to Valhalla—let us -not keep them waiting, but hasten to supper, lest we should offend the -Highest by our presumption.” Thus saying, she departed, after a friendly -good-night to the princess, and a promise to spend many evenings with her -in the island. Serimnor, deeply engaged at that moment in a dispute with -Brandomann about the politics of Jutland, did not remark her departure, -but was reminded of it, to the no small astonishment of Ildegarda, in a -very extraordinary manner; a gigantic pair of hands, the right -brandishing an enormous carving knife, coolly entered the folding doors, -and, seizing the throat of the luckless Serimnor, without any sort of -notice or preparation, cut it from one side to the other, just as he was -pronouncing the names of Harwendil and Feggo, which, from the suddenness -of this manœuvre, burst through the gaping orifice in his throat, instead -of by the usual channel of communication—the mouth. The terror of -Ildegarda, who had begun to esteem the polite and obliging Serimnor, was -greatly increased by the extraordinary coolness of Brandomann, who stood -looking on as if nothing particular had happened, and only discontinued -his speech when the body of the poor boar was dragged from the apartment -by the murderous pair of hands. It seemed as if the whole party had been -in a conspiracy to frighten the timid Ildegarda; for, on the -disappearance of the boar, Sleipner started up, and, snorting till fire -darted from his nostrils and eyes, sprung up into the air, and pawing, -and dashing, and foaming, ascended up to the clouds through the roof of -the palace, which parted to give him passage,—while the two ravens flew -screaming out of the window. Brandomann had disappeared in the bustle, -and, as he did not attend her on the following morning, she waited with -much uneasy impatience for an explanation in the evening: this was given -by the good-natured boar himself, who had marked her anxiety, and hurried -first to the palace in order to relieve it. He thanked her for the -interest she took in what appeared to be his suffering; “But grieve not, -loveliest of maidens,” said the gallant beast, “at an event which is to -me but the consummation of my glory: every night thus I die without pain, -and my flesh is served up to the banquet of the gods,—while my spirit -enjoys a blissful sleep, from which it awakes in the morning to animate -the same form in which it was clothed the day before. The beautiful goat -whom you saw, is the immortal Heidruna, whose milk is the hydromel served -up to the table of Odin. She alone, last night, was punctual to her -engagement, while the rest of the party, enchanted by your beauty, forgot -the hour, and had some difficulty to reach Valhalla in time to avoid the -reproach of Odin.” Scarcely was this explanation given, ere Heidruna -herself entered, attended by the ravens and Sleipner, who apologised for -their hasty departure the evening before; and a moment after, the clap of -thunder announced the approach of Brandomann. The whole party now sat -contentedly down to supper, infinitely pleased with themselves and each -other; and perhaps it would have been difficult to find one more happy, -or its members bearing more sincere good will towards each other. The -next day was the first of the month, and the princess hastened to avail -herself of the magic gift of Brandomann. With intense anxiety she raised -the curtain, and her heart throbbed with delight to behold her father in -health and spirits, well armed, and travelling, attended by a band of -gallant warriors, who appeared to be anxious for his safety. Ildegarda -looked at him with rapture, and new feelings of gratitude to Brandomann -gave the evening which followed this happy morning, fresh charms in her -eyes, and made her confinement in the desolate island, with none but the -ugliest of orangutangs for a constant companion, no longer either gloomy -or dreadful. - -One morning, while surveying together the beauties of the island in a -sentimental walk, Brandomann asked the princess if she had now entirely -resigned herself to the lot of total seclusion in the island of the -Maelstrom. “I may, and do sometimes regret the halls of my fathers,” -replied the tender Ildegarda. “But when I reflect from what miseries my -devotion has preserved my beloved country, and still more beloved father, -I feel that I ought not to complain. Neither am I insensible of what I -owe to you; and I acknowledge that, without any other motive, your -generous protection of me and care of my happiness deserves the sacrifice -even of these regrets: I am willing to make it, and should even rejoice -in an opportunity that would allow me to convince you of my sincerity.” -“You have, then, (and permit me to say I hope it,) banished from your -heart the remembrance of Haldane?” said the monster. “Alas! no,” replied -Ildegarda, bursting into tears of tenderness at his recollection; “that -can I never do; and it is the certainty of his loss that enables me so -well to support this destiny: but do not let this disturb you—the -recollection of Haldane will never interrupt my gratitude to you.” “And -you could resolve upon fresh sacrifices if they were demanded of you?” -inquired Brandomann. “I could,” replied the princess. Brandomann -paused—he looked sadly and earnestly, at Ildegarda, and then, as with a -violent effort, flung himself at her feet, and tremblingly demanded, -“Princess, will you become my wife?” A shriek of horror, and a look of -unmeasured abhorrence, was the only reply of the hapless Ildegarda; and -too plainly these tokens spoke to the unfortunate Brandomann. He calmed -his agitation—arose from her feet, and spoke kindly and steadily to -tranquillise her. “Do not hate me, beautiful sovereign of my destiny,” -said he, “that thus I am compelled to add to your inquietudes. Yet be -not alarmed needlessly; I adore you, but no force shall be put upon your -inclinations: forgive me, if, impelled by a power I dare not disobey, I -am sometimes obliged to give you pain by this question. But fear not—my -wishes shall be sacrificed to yours—I would not receive that hand, dear -as it would be, unless voluntarily presented by yourself.” - -The princess took courage at this declaration of her hideous lover. She -knew he was a monster of his word; and she thought if he would not -receive her hand till she presented it, she should be safe from the -infliction of such a husband. Assuring him, therefore, that she was far -from hating him, and expressing with warmth the sentiments she really -felt for her grim admirer, the poor monster was somewhat comforted, which -Ildegarda was not sorry to remark; for if Brandomann was ugly when he was -gay, he was ten thousand times more so when in sorrow. They returned to -the palace in tolerable spirits, and in the evening Ildegarda took an -opportunity of depositing her perplexities in the bosom of the -respectable white goat, for whom she began to experience something of -filial affection. Heidruna consoled the princess by her unqualified -praises of the honour and sincerity of Brandomann, and her firm -conviction that Ildegarda would never be molested by his fondness; -although Heidruna thought, and could not help telling her young friend, -that in the world she might have matched herself with many a greater -beast than Brandomann: but, as this was entirely a matter of opinion, she -rather soothed the princess than contradicted her. The good Serimnor -interrupted the _tête-à-tête_, and fully seconded the opinion of -Heidruna, both as to the honour and goodness of the lord monster of -Moskoe. “You observe,” said he to Ildegarda, “that he has been admitted -among the Scaldres, an order which generally requires perfection from its -aspirants; and great must his virtues be, when the unbounded ugliness of -his person could not outweigh them, nor conceal the richness and beauty -of his mind. He is also, as we are, the descendant of Odin, and -peculiarly favoured by the mightiest of the gods, and his son Thor, the -thunderbolt: he enjoys extensive power, and many prerogatives not granted -to the more beautiful children of nature, to compensate for the -imprisonment of such a spirit in so hideous and detestable a frame. Were -it possible to overcome your natural repugnance, you would have no reason -to regret the change; but should your aversion be invincible, you will -have nothing to fear, since he will continue to you the tenderest and -humblest of lovers, and we shall always remain your friends.” - -The princess thanked the friendly boar for his kind assurance, and they -separated for the night in increased good will towards each other. In a -few days after this conversation, Brandomann sought the princess in her -chamber. “A storm is gathering above the whirlpool,” said he; “its -effects will be terrific—our friends are collected to watch its -progress—shall we follow them to the coast? If it will interest you, I -will raise my magic tent upon the top of the highest rock, and, sheltered -even from the slightest drops of rain, you shall see the storm in its -terrors, and the fiends unseen of mortal eyes, who increase its horrors -and sport in its bosom.” Ildegarda accepted the invitation, and the -rein-deer swiftly bore their light and lovely burthen to the rocks, -accompanied by Brandomann, whose eight-legged steed would far have -outstripped the nimble coursers of the princess, but for the frequent -checks of his rider. Arrived at the point of rock, they beheld the -waters raging around them, (for the island was seated in the midst of the -gulf,) but with less violence than Ildegarda had expected: she remarked -this to her attendant. “The waters are now at their height,” replied -Brandomann; “and for one quarter of an hour it will be tolerably calm, -but the power of the storm will be tremendous when that short interval -shall be past: many, deceived by the calm, venture out while it lasts, -and encounter certain destruction at its close.” Ildegarda continued -watching for the termination of the delusive calm, when her meditations -were interrupted by the arrival of Heidruna, Serimnor, and the ravens: -they arranged themselves round the chariot of the princess, and, -protected from the storm by the magic tent of Brandomann, stood watching -its progress in silent anxiety. The deceitful calm, as the lord of the -island had predicted, was of no long duration. In a few minutes the -brightness of Balder was entirely obscured; the wind chorus began, and -swept low and sullenly over the waters, which now rose upwards, gently -murmuring, as if they were the echoes of the distant song. “Listen, -Ildegarda,” said Brandomann; “to you it is given to hear the secrets and -wonders of the earth, in recompense for being thus shut out from its more -social intercourse: listen, and you will hear the unknown song of the -winds: hark! how it rises from an immeasurable distance, and yet you can -distinguish their voices, and the words they utter. Now they come -nearer—hush!” - - THE SONG OF THE WINDS. - - From the couch of the billows - The hollow bed - Where ocean pillows - His giant head— - - From secret caves, - Where ancient Night - Sleeps secure - From staring light— - From the breast - - Of the trembling earth, - Scorning rest, - We have our birth. - Up, up, upward, murmuringly, - Up, up, upward, still go we. - - From wild Hecla’s burning cells, - Where the giant mother dwells, - Who to Lok, in days of yore, - Sin and death and horror bore— - From the Geyser’s boiling springs, - We soar, upborne on rushing wings, - Singing louder as we go, - Blow, ye wild winds, louder blow! - Up from the Dolstein still rise we, - Where about us rolled the sea, - And beneath, for ever whirled, - The master spirit of the world— - From the raging Dofrefeld, - Where green Niord’s feast is held— - From the land of eternal snow, - Blow, ye wild winds, louder blow! - - We come, we come! the forests wave, - As above their tops we rave. - Blow winds, blow! the crashing tree - Of our might shall the witness be; - The staggering ship, and the broken mast, - Heaving, rended, sinking last; - And the crash of falling towers, - Speak our presence, and our powers. - Blow winds, blow! to heaven ascending, - Clashing, crashing, crushing, rending, - Wrath on earth and ocean pouring, - O’er the scared world, raging, roaring. - -“The storm is indeed terrific now,” said Ildegarda; “I can almost see it -in the air, as it scatters the clouds before it: look how the waters rise -to meet it, roaring with the fury and force of the cataract!” Amid the -uproar, she thought she distinguished other noises than those of the -tempest—a sound like the howls and shrieks of pain: she noticed the -circumstance to Brandomann. “You are right,” he replied; “look yonder, -where a desperate battle is waging, in despite of this scene of tempest. -A bear has swum from this mountain territory of Hilseggen to prey upon -the flocks of Suarven, one of the few islands in this gulf which is -inhabited; a single gallant shepherd has attacked him, but I fear the -bear has the mastery: see! the shepherd has lost his staff, and the -monster grapples with him closely—he hugs him fiercely!—Is there no way -by which I can save him? What, ho! shepherd!—what, ho!—loosen yourself -from the grasp of your enemy and fly—stand on the very edge of the rock, -and let him spring against you!—So, so—the fellow fears me no less than -the bear, yet he obeys—he is crouching—his enemy runs—plunges—ah! ah!—he -has lost his balance and dashes headlong into the stream—well, run, -shepherd!—He stays not to sing the death-song for his foe.—Good night, -friend bear, you will sup with the fish of the Maelstrom to-night!” -While they looked on, they beheld the savage animal struggling for his -life against the dreadful current, but in vain; borne onward, despite of -his roarings, he was soon over the terrible pool, and then whirled -rapidly round, till he was sucked down into the bosom of the dismal gulf, -which, sages have written, penetrates the globe. Ildegarda pitied the -poor bear, whose love of mutton had occasioned him so miserable a fate; -but a new wonder now claimed her attention and diverted her thoughts from -his sorrows: this was another island, slowly arising from the bottom of -the lake, and covered with sea-weeds, becoming stationary at no great -distance from Moskoe. Before Ildegarda could point it out to her -companions, Serimnor advanced hastily towards Brandomann. “There is -mischief abroad, dear brother,” said he; “this storm is not of Niord’s -raising. Some friend beloved of Odin, and abhorred of Lok, is certainly -in danger; for look who are sporting in the tempest.” He pointed to the -bosom of the gulf and to the rocky shore of Otterholm. In the centre of -the one, Ildegarda beheld the head of a monstrous serpent reared above -the waves, and surveying with fiery eyes the distant sea; and on the -other a hideous wolf, with his attention fixed in the same direction, and -howling in concert with the storm. The princess shuddered, and, for the -first time in her life, drew nearer to Brandomann for protection. “You -have nothing to fear, dearest,” said he, “from these monsters whom you -behold; they are indeed your foes and mine, for they are the children of -Lok, and the enemies of Odin; but they have no power over you, and mine, -by the gift of their conqueror, is greater than their own. He whom you -see in the waters is the giant snake, whose folds of sin encircle the -guilty earth, and who now, from its centre, is bidding defiance to some -noble foe of his evil father. Fenris, the wolf-dog, guard of hell, -appears only when mischief is in the air, to increase, by his cries and -the horror of his form, the fears and the danger of his victim. I deem -some hapless vessel has approached too near this coast during the calm, -and now the storm will drag it to destruction. But let us watch—Hugo and -Mumin, stretch out your pinions—fly over the waters, and tell me what you -descry.” The messengers of Odin obeyed—they flew over the bosom of the -lake—then out towards the boundless and ungirt ocean: suddenly they -returned. “A sail! a sail!” said Hugo. “A gallant ship!” cried Mumin; -“the whirl has surely caught her, she comes on so rapidly.” Soon, very -soon, she neared, and drove onwards, visible to all. Brandomann grasped -his club: “Some bold adventurers,” said he, “doubtless, who seek to land -upon this island in defiance of the will of Odin; if so, they are lost -indeed, for the king of Valhalla has resigned them to the power of the -infernals.” It was frightful to mark the force with which the ship drove -on. “They make for the island which has just risen from the lake,” said -the princess. “Death will too surely greet them there,” replied -Brandomann; “for that is no land, but the snare of fiends to beguile; it -is the dreadful Kraken, that monster of the deep, who, when the vessel -touches him, will sink, and draw it with him.”—And the vessel was near -the monster, when a piercing shriek from Ildegarda arrested the thoughts -of Brandomann. “It is my father!” she cried—“it is my father!—I know his -banner—he seeks me on this island—have mercy, Odin!—Oh, Brandomann, if -thou lovest me”—“If I love thee!—lo! now I disobey the will of Odin for -thee!—judge, then, how dear thou art!” He started from her side, sprung -upon Sleipner, darted from the rock, and the next instant Ildegarda -beheld his giant form stemming the torrent with a power equal to its own. -The wolf beheld him and ran howling away, while a single blow from his -mighty club drove the grim serpent beneath the waves, to howl his -disappointment in Niftheim. Ildegarda heard none of the consoling -speeches addressed to her by her friends; her ear—her eye—her heart, were -all with Brandomann: she shrieked aloud. “He will not reach it ere it -touches the Kraken,” she cried, “and then all help will be in vain.” -“Not so, dear princess,” replied Serimnor; “he acts with the power of -Odin, and will save your father; and then what will not his generosity -deserve?” “My life—my love!” distractedly replied the wretched -Ildegarda, totally incapable of accepting any consolation, and only alive -to the danger of her father. “Oh, Odin! save him!” she cried; “and thou, -thou the nameless!—the mighty in strength—the blind invincible—preserve -the faithful Brandomann!” At this instant the Kraken sunk—the hoof of -Sleipner had touched him—and Brandomann sternly approached the vessel: a -band of warriors, headed by her father, prepared to oppose him, and -Ildegarda beheld their bright weapons gleaming above his head. At this -sight, “Harm him not,” she exclaimed; “ye know not whom ye strike!” But -the next instant shewed her the folly of her fear and the mighty power of -her lover. Heedless of the flashing swords, Sleipner sprung among the -warriors, whose arms were now useless in their deadened hands, and -Brandomann stood upon the deck, sternly reproving their presumption, and -commanding the gallant ship to return home to Denmark. The vessel -obeyed—the warriors knew the eight-legged steed of Odin, and were silent; -but Haquin accused aloud the murderer of his daughter, for he judged he -beheld the lord of the Maelstrom. “Thy daughter lives,” replied the -terrible Brandomann; “but she is mine: at her entreaty I have saved thy -forfeited life—but approach no more the island forbidden by Odin to -mortal foot, else will I resign thee to the fate thy presumption will -incur, and which, but for thy daughter’s tears, thou wouldest ere now -have tasted. Hence, Haquin, and learn submission!” - -Sleipner plunged into the waters, and the vessel, now removed beyond the -power of the whirlpool, sailed back to Denmark, while Brandomann returned -to Ildegarda, by whom he was received with a welcome far surpassing his -hopes or expectations. He said nothing, however, of the important -service he had just rendered her; and his delicate conduct, which did not -pass unobserved by the princess, created for him an advocate in her bosom -stronger than his own entreaties, or those of all his friends united, -could have done. She saw how tenderly Brandomann loved her, but she saw -also that he was resolved not to give her pain; and, to say the truth, -she could not help being pleased by this circumstance; for gratitude, -great as it certainly was, was yet not sufficiently powerful to make so -cruel a sacrifice to his happiness. By the time he had landed, the storm -had passed from the face of heaven, and all was calm upon the bosom of -the waters as if the fiends of Niftheim had not been raging within it a -few moments before; the party returned to sup in the palace, and all -things went on pleasingly as usual. Days, weeks, passed away, but -Ildegarda, no longer wretched in submitting to the sentence she had once -thought so cruel, took little heed of time, except to notice the first -day of the month, which presented to her anxious eyes the person and -occupations of her father. Twice, successively, she had seen him in his -tent, surrounded by heroes, amid preparations for war; he was cheerful, -and appeared to be encouraging the spirits of a young man, whom Ildegarda -knew to be prince Harold, and who, with a gentle, downcast look, was -listening to his observations: this was confirmed to her by the accounts -of Brandomann, whose cares to lighten her anxieties and anticipate her -wishes sensibly affected the generous daughter of Haquin. She took -increased delight in his conversation; and he, from whose presence she -was at first so anxious to fly, was now frequently summoned to relieve -solitude by his cheering conversation. She was herself surprised at the -change; and could she have shut from her bosom the thought of her early -and beautiful love. Brandomann, even in person, would not have been -disgusting. As it was, he daily grew less odious, and daily grew the -princess more contented with her lot; the happy society of the marble -palace met nightly, and mirth, and song, and tale, gave wings to the -cheerful hours. - - - -PART IV. -THE RETURN. - - - Wilt thou begone? - - SHAKSPEARE. - -ONE night when the conversation particularly turned upon the exploits of -the ancestors of Ildegarda, Sleipner, who possessed a natural love of -noble actions, inquired of the boar whether king Uffon was constant in -his attendance upon the nightly festival of the hall of Odin? “He is so, -frequently,” replied Serimnor; “but he takes more delight in the combat -of the morning—from that he is never absent:—but what an extraordinary -history is his!” continued the boar; “it is necessary that he should be -in Asgard, for its inhabitants to believe it.” Ildegarda’s attention was -aroused; she had never heard of her ancestor, and she entreated -Brandomann to indulge her curiosity. He took up his harp immediately—for -he appeared to have no occupation so delightful as to obey her slightest -wish—and thus related to her the legend of Uffon the Merciful:— - - LEGEND OF UFFON. - - I. - - There was a halo round - The golden crown which shone on Vermund’s brow, - The light of many noble deeds— - Some deathless flowers - From heaven’s immortal tree, - (The abode of changeless destiny,) - Were wreathed - Around his conquering sword: - But years rolled on, and age - Silvered his golden locks— - And darkness fell - Heavily on him, - Veiling the beauty of his latter day— - For Lok in hate, - Or envy, breathed on him a withering curse— - And he grew blind! - - II. - - He was a childless man, - And to the gods he prayed - That his own royal diadem might fall - Upon a kindred brow. - He asked a son— - And Odin granted to his agony - The son he craved. - Again the evil one - Blighted the bud of joy— - He laid his dark hand on the infant’s head, - And left its evil shadow on his brain, - He grew an idiot boy! - - III. - - The Saxon king, - A wild, fierce warrior, heard of Vermund’s grief, - And he did rage to snatch, with greedy hand, - The sceptre of the blind. - Madly he poured - His thousands o’er the land; - The red steel clashed— - The curling fire ran— - The ravens fed - On beauty, and the eagles gorged on strength, - The blind prince trembling heard - His people’s dying groan! - - IV. - - The Saxon king - Rode, like the thunderbolt, his mighty steed - To the sad Danish camp. - He mocked the king— - And to his peers, with haughty action, said - “Doth it become - The noble sons of Odin thus to bend - The knee before a blind man, and a fool?” - - V. - - “Out on thee, wretch!” - The sightless prince exclaimed; - “It more becomes the warrior to protect - Than scorn the weak and aged!— - Mighty!—to thee— - Thee! whom we fear to name— - Thee! strongest pillar of Odin’s great throne— - Thee! dark, but terrible!—whose woe I bear— - Thee! whose most awful name - The reckless echo dares not repeat, and we - Shudder as we pronounce! - HODER!—I call on thee!— - Be thou the judge - Between this wretch and me!” - - VI. - - The Saxon heard - And shrunk at that dread name— - The nobles groaned— - The father wept, and clasped, - To his chilled heart, his dumb and idiot boy. - When, lo! a wonder!— - His sacred tears fell on the youthful brow - Like holy rain upon the scorched up earth, - And upward to the sun of glory sprung - The buried seeds of intellect— - He spoke!— - - VII. - - “Ha! scoffer!” said the boy, “didst thou not know - The blind and weak are sacred?”— - His eye shone - With a miraculous light— - “Hark! Saxon churl! - I summon thee unto the field of death— - _I_, the dumb idiot—_I_ will meet thee there, - And on thy craven bosom write a truth, - That Vermund hath a son—Denmark a prince, - Who _will_ protect their glories!” - - VIII. - - The day came— - And Uffon’s fiery chariot bore him forth - Unto the battle field— - Less bright—less beautiful - Is Balder when, from Lidscialf’s diamond steps, - He rises to illuminate the worlds - Which wheel caressingly around him—and - Gallantly rode the Saxon. - But the king— - The blind—the father—where is he? He sits - On yonder rock, high o’er the foaming sea, - There to await the battle. - Should _he_ fall— - His own—his only one— - Ocean will catch his form, - And hide his griefs for ever. - - IX. - - It was a deadly fight - Between the Saxon and the Dane; - And once - There was a scream, as if the inspired boy - Was lost, for he had sunk upon his knee— - But he beheld his father’s sightless eye - Upturned in agony— - And he arose—and then - Another sound was heard—a mighty shout— - The scorner of the blind was slain! - - X. - - The son—he flew, - A bounding reindeer to his father’s arms— - He paused— - _They_ were upraised, - In attitude of thankfulness - His lips - Were pale, and still, and smiling— - But—his heart - Had broke in that fierce struggle— - He was gone— - Heimdaller’s wings were shadowing him, as o’er - The wonderous bridge he trod; - Valkyries bore - His spirit to the foot of Odin’s throne, - To tell of Uffon’s glory. - - XI. - - Nameless one! - This justice was thy deed— - We worship thee, - Although we love thee not! - -“No, truly,” said Serimnor, on the conclusion of the legend; “that would -be quite impossible either for heaven or earth; but glory to the good -Uffon—few warriors in Valhalla are more esteemed than he. The skull of -the impious Saxon is now his drinking cup; and his father, restored to -sight, beholds the pledge of victory with undying felicity: and, in the -combats and martial sports of the morning, the battle between his noble -son and the Saxon is daily renewed, to gladden him with the sound of -conquest and triumph over his shadowy foe.” “Look, Serimnor,” said the -horse of Odin, interrupting him impatiently, as a bright flash of -lightning darted into the hall and played against his head for a moment; -“Look, we are again outstaying our time—the son of Rinda is shooting his -brilliant arrows, and one has already touched you: let us obey the -summons, and not provoke him to make his fatal shafts unerring.” “Away, -then!” cried Heidruna. The ravens flapped their wings—Brandomann -rose—and the hall was cleared in a moment. - -Ildegarda had hitherto been happy in the reports of the magic mirror, and -satisfied with its assurances of her father’s safety. On the first of -the tenth month of her residence on the island, she again withdrew the -curtain,—but a different spectacle awaited her; Haquin was lying wounded -upon his couch, pale and insensible, while his attendants were anxiously -endeavouring to stanch the blood which flowed from his injured side. The -princess became wild with apprehension; instantly she sought her faithful -Brandomann, to pour into his bosom the grief which distracted hers. He -listened with tender sympathy. “There has been a battle between your -father and Frotho, no doubt,” he replied; “but though I am not informed -of all the particulars, I know that Haquin will not die of this wound: -take comfort from this assurance, for when did I ever deceive you?” But -Ildegarda refused all consolation, and persisted in thinking and making -herself the most miserable of all human beings. Her father was -ill—wounded—in need of her assistance—and she herself uncertain of his -fate for a whole month at least. Her anxiety hourly increased, and her -grief, too powerful to be concealed from Brandomann, affected him no less -painfully than herself. It was in vain he exerted his talents to divert -her anguish; she was grateful for his kindness, but did not shed one tear -the less: his conversation had lost its charms, his tales and songs their -interest. Brandomann discovered this, and, after a terrible struggle, -his generous nature overmastered every selfish and interested feeling. -“I cannot,” said he at length to the weeping princess; “I cannot bear to -witness your sorrow, and know that I am the cause. For your sake I will -again disobey the command of Odin, which had decreed your captivity to be -perpetual; you shall go to your father: promise me that you will return -hither, and you shall be swiftly conveyed to his tent—and remain with him -seven days; at the close of that period you must return, or my life will -pay the forfeit of my fault, and be demanded to appease the anger of -Odin. Go, then, beloved princess,—but sometimes think of Brandomann, and -what he will suffer for your sake.” The princess could scarcely believe -what she heard: in a rapture of joy she accepted the offer, and was most -fervent in her promises to return at the expiration of seven days. -Brandomann sighed heavily, but made no reply to her frequent -protestations of their soon meeting again. “You shall be with your -father to-morrow morning,” said he: “merely take this ring—put it upon -your finger when you go to rest to-night, and do the same thing when you -wish to return to me; but do not wear it at any other time.” The -princess joyfully accepted the gift—took an affectionate leave of her -admired monster—and retired to rest full of hope and -expectation—expectations which were fully realised on her awaking in the -morning; for she found her couch in her father’s tent, and he himself -gazing upon her with tender anxiety and wonder. - -The joy of Haquin, at again folding his beloved child to his bosom, was -considerably damped by the narrative of her adventures, and the promise -which she had given to Brandomann to return. As he did not deem it -possible that she intended to keep her word, he was not a little -astonished at her declaration, when she assured him she could remain with -him only during the seven days. He argued strongly against her -intention; and she at present, unwilling to distress him, ceased to -oppose his opinions, and occupied herself entirely with the care of his -health, knowing that it would always be in her power to return whenever -she felt the inclination. Her tender attention was fully appreciated by -Haquin, but she herself was far from being at ease in the midst of a -tumultuous camp, where her wishes were not anticipated with the swift and -delighted obedience of her island attendants: she had no change of dress -either: a circumstance peculiarly vexatious, as she was daily surrounded -by admiring warriors, who constantly paid homage to her charms,—and among -whom prince Harold was not the least fervent in his expressions of -devotion to her beauty. Awakening one morning after many regrets upon -this subject to herself overnight, she was surprised to see the chest -which ornamented her chamber at Moskoe, and which contained her superb -wardrobe, standing by the side of her couch: she opened it hastily: -“Kind, generous Brandomann, always alike solicitous for my happiness and -pleasure,” she exclaimed; “how much do I not owe thee!” She immediately -decorated her lovely person and returned to her father, who, cheered by -her presence and renovated by her care, was quickly recovering from the -effects of his wound: he now informed her that Haldane was universally -said to have been murdered by his uncle; and that, in consequence of -their disgust at this act of cruelty, many noble Danes had resorted to -the standard of Harold, whom they unanimously called to the throne, -though they held not the gentle boy in the same estimation as his more -valiant brother. To this he added, that as the young king had declared a -passion for Ildegarda, he had determined to unite them despite of the -wrath of Frotho, and thus repay her long captivity by placing her upon a -throne. His daughter had many objections to this arrangement, but her -father’s heart appeared to joy so deeply in its contemplation that -Ildegarda had not the courage to undeceive him: the tenderness of Haquin, -the novelty of again seeing human faces, and the pleasure of listening to -the gallant praises of the noble Danes, at length rendered Ildegarda -forgetful of her promise, and not only seven days, but twice that number -slipped away, ere she called to mind the probable anxiety of Brandomann. -She now determined to repair her fault and hasten back to the island, but -when, upon retiring to rest, she sought her ring to place it upon her -finger, the talisman was nowhere to be found. In great distress she -hastened to her father, expecting him perhaps to sympathise in her -misfortune, but, unlike the gentle monster of the Maelstrom, he laughed -at her anxiety, and congratulated her upon her loss; he bade her be under -no apprehension respecting her ring, since it was safe in his -possession—he had stolen it on being informed of its virtue, in order to -secure her company,—“which,” he continued, “it appears, without this -precaution I should have lost.” He observed that he could not permit -such a preposterous union between beauty and a beast, who, instead of -being a descendant of Odin, was doubtless a member of the infernal royal -family of Lok, and consequently some diabolical sorcerer, who had thus -bought her, body and soul, of Frotho: he would give her, he remarked, a -husband better suited to her rank and beauty, and commanded her to -prepare to espouse the royal cousin Harold, within at least ten days. -Ildegarda was much startled by this conversation; and she who in the -desolate island had mourned over the idea of perpetual captivity, now -wept with more bitterness her recovered liberty, and the prospect of -never more returning to her prison; she thought of the tender obedience -of Brandomann to her lightest wish, and his generous self-denial upon all -occasions respecting her. She lamented the kind-hearted Serimnor, the -chivalrous horse, the affectionate goat, and even the ravens and reindeer -received the tribute of her tears; but the idea of the probable suffering -of Brandomann for his devotion to her, and disobedience in her favour, -filled her heart with the most poignant regret; she hated Harold, and she -esteemed her Maelstrom friend, and not a day passed without the severest -search for the ring that was to convey her back to his territories. At -length Rinda, in pity, heard her prayers. In her father’s bosom, during -his sleep, she found her glittering ring, which she hastily secured as -her dearest treasure, and instantly retired to rest; and when morning -again looked upon her, it was in her chamber of the desolate isle. - -Ildegarda scarce waited fully to throw off the fetters of sleep ere she -descended to the marble hall, and instantly gave the signal which used to -summon Brandomann to her presence, and which he had never neglected; now -it was unheeded. Alarmed, she repeated it more strongly—Brandomann -replied not to the call; half-distracted she hurried through the palace -and harrowed her own feelings by recalling to mind his mournful -prediction of the fate which awaited him, should she exceed her allotted -time. She shuddered to reflect how long that time had elapsed. From the -palace she traversed the gardens, running wildly with an aching heart and -burning brow to every quarter, and asking every object she met for -tidings of her lamented Brandomann: the birds and the echoes alone -replied to her mournful queries, and disconsolate and despairing she -threw herself upon the sod to give vent to the bitterness of her sorrow, -and lament undisturbed her affliction. “Brandomann!” she exclaimed; -“Brandomann! where art thou? friend of my soul, art thou yet in -existence, or hath my ingratitude destroyed thee? Oh, if thou hearest, -if thou beholdest these tears, have pity on thy wretched Ildegarda, and -hasten to relieve her agony, and pardon her involuntary crime.” She -started up in a sudden ecstasy, for a low groan at no great distance from -her seemed to be an answer to her question; she rushed forward in that -direction, and soon beheld the hapless Brandomann stretched upon the -earth, and apparently in the agonies of death; but her beloved voice, the -touch of her gentle hand, the glance of her worshipped eye, either of -these would have recalled him to life, and now all were lavishly employed -to restore him: he looked up for a moment. Mournfully he said, “Beloved, -thou art come to see me die!” and then relapsed into stupor and -forgetfulness. Ildegarda wept in agony—she was hanging over him in -listless sorrow, when her thoughts were aroused by the appearance of -Heidruna. “Brandomann is dying,” said the white goat, “and from grief at -your neglect; but you have returned, and, in compassion to your -sufferings, I am permitted to restore him to you: take the bowl you see -yonder, draw forth a portion of my milk, and give it to his lips; the -hydromel of heaven will call him back to life.” Ildegarda obeyed—she -gave the miraculous draught to Brandomann, who as instantly recovered his -reason and his strength; with tears of joy she expressed her gratitude to -Heidruna; and the Moskoe chief observing her delight, and too happy once -more to behold her, readily forgave her all he had suffered in her -absence. There was much happiness that night in the marble palace; -Sleipner bowed down his arched neck to receive a pat from her snowy hand; -Serimnor grinned till his huge tusks were completely visible; the ravens -presented her the tips of their wings, and flew screaming about, as if -_they_ had been drinking the hydromel of Valhalla. Ildegarda was happy, -and Brandomann dared not trust his feelings to words. Sunny walks and -moonlight musings were now the pursuits of the imprisoned pair; for -instead of retiring to rest, as formerly, when the Valhalla people went -to their party, they roamed over the island, contemplating the stars, and -talking tenderly of course, for when were love and moonshine separated? -It is true, in this instance, the tenderness was all on one side; for -though Ildegarda permitted it, since she saw the happiness it gave to -Brandomann, she yet could not prevail upon herself to return it, or say -the words he wished to hear from her lips. One evening, as thus, in the -tranquil moonlight, they sat alone in the summery isle, Ildegarda was -astonished, by the appearance of a wonder she had never yet remarked in -the island; the moon was suddenly eclipsed by a light so glorious, yet so -soft, that every object around her was visible in the brightness of -beaming gold, yet without giving pain to the sense. Brandomann remarked -her admiration. “This beauteous light,” said he, “is a mark of the -approbation of the father of the gods, at some virtuous action of a -favourite of heaven; it is Odin’s fire, dear Ildegarda, the light of his -glorious smile; and shining now as it does upon thee, and our lonely -isle, it comes to tell thee he is satisfied with thy past conduct, and -approves thy present.” Scarcely was this explanation given, ere the -beauteous light died away from the mountains and the palace, and night -wore again her solemn robe of darkness. As they prepared to return, the -star-studded sky, the jewel-paved floor of the palaces of Asgard, -sparkling with its unnumbered lights, and shining in its soft blue glory, -struck on their souls with delight; and, while they were gazing in -rapture, a large and brilliant star shot from its place in the heaven and -vanished rapidly from their sight. “Some noble warrior or virtuous sage -has closed his eyes upon this mortal scene,” said Brandomann, tenderly: -“that was the star of his destiny; it fell from its seat in the heaven -when he quitted his on the earth: this is the sign that tells to the -survivors his fate, if it is fulfilled in the night; by day it is the -vision of the rainbow bridge, the sacred arch that connects this earth -with heaven, and over which the spirits of the just must pass.” “I have -heard that it is only visible to mortal sight, when the peculiarly brave -and virtuous ascend its brilliant road,” said Ildegarda. “And you have -heard aright, dearest,” replied Brandomann; “it is only then that the -guardian spirit of the bridge, Heimdaller of the radiant brow, descends -from his abode on its top to meet and welcome the traveller; then it is, -that the light from his rushing wings, and the gems which compose his -jewelled crown, shine so strongly on the arch, as to render it visible to -mortal sight, clad in the reflected glories of its guardian’s diadem.” - -On the morrow Brandomann relieved her anxiety, which had been awakened by -the sight of the falling star, lest her father’s should no more have a -seat in the heavens, nor himself a name on the earth. “A mild and -gracious being hath left us,” said he, “for the happier scenes of Asgard; -Sevald is dead—the virtuous son of the abandoned Frotho is no more—he -fell, as became his race, in the battle-field, contending against your -victorious father and his kinsman Harold, against whom the tyrant rages -and vows destruction, as now the only rival he has to fear.” The -princess was satisfied by this explanation, the more especially as the -first day of the month again presented the person of her father, though -surrounded by the bustle of war. - - - -PART V. -ODIN. - - - He hath borne all things well. - - SHAKSPEARE—_Macbeth_. - -“WHENCE is it, Brandomann,” said Sleipner one evening to the Scaldre, -“that among those of the heroes whose virtues and glories you are nightly -celebrating, I never heard the actions of Odin; why, while thus honouring -his friends, are you neglectful of the great father of our race? Surely -he, from whom all inspiration flows, deserves the best, ay, and the -finest fruits of your genius!” “It was only because I feared my feeble -strains would not do justice to the lofty subject,” replied Brandomann; -“the glory of the father of gods and men requires a mightier hand than -mine to celebrate it; Brage alone should strike the golden chord to his -honour—alone should sing of deeds beyond the feeble thought of mortality; -that which I can, I will; I dare not wake the voice of song, but I will -speak of his wondrous deeds, that to-night, in Valhalla, thou mayest tell -bright Asgard’s king that I have instructed this lovely maiden what -honours and love are due to the first of her race, and the friend of her -father. Will it please thee, Ildegarda, to listen to the legend of -Sigge?” “Beyond all other things,” replied the princess, pleasedly: and -Brandomann, smiling, began— - -From his high and everlasting throne in Valhalla, had Odin, the dispenser -of good, poured forth, with unsparing hand, innumerable benefits upon his -attendant spirits. In the burning benevolence of his heart he forgot, or -he disregarded, that to some essences obligation is pain, and gratitude a -toil; so high did he raise some of those bright creations that stood -nearest to his throne, that they became too great for obedience, and -impatient of the most gentle restraint. Lok, the most glorious of these -glorious things, seated on the lowest step of the throne of light, saw -but one between him and the highest; and once on that, what should -restrain from him the throne of the universe? Thus he thought, and thus -he did: by his eloquence he seduced the higher spirits from their duty—by -his beauty and promises the lower. The worlds of Asgard sent their -governing spirits forth to fight under his banner, and Surter brought -myriads to his side. For the first time since the creation, the -standards of revolt flew in the cities of Asgard, and the proud Lok drove -back, with contempt, the interceding ministers of Odin, who came to -remonstrate upon his madness. Confident in his power, the giant spirit -entered Valasciolf, the city of the king, and dared even advance to -Valhalla: the immortal beings who surround the diamond throne shuddered -at his presumption, and, veiling their bright heads from the terrible -glances of Odin, wept the approaching destiny of companions once so -beloved, which they read in the eye of their master: the sovereign of the -universe gave no command to his people—he uttered no reproach—he suffered -his faithful spirits to fly before the sword of Lok and the devouring -fires of Surter—he even permitted the lost ones to approach the steps of -his eternal throne—then, when with proud exultation they advanced to -seize upon him whose power they believed departed, he calmly arose from -his seat and stretched out his right hand, armed with its invincible -falchion, towards his enemies: at that tremendous signal Niord let loose -the oceans of heaven, and, in terrific grandeur they came rolling down -upon the revolted; the winds from all the worlds were summoned up to -heaven to aid their master, and rend and scatter his offenders. Balder -deserted his throne in the orb of day,—and the mad and governless globe -flew up into Asgard, and burst its destructive flames upon the rebels. -Thor, the first-born of Odin, threw by his star-formed diadem, girded his -brow with the thunder, and, wielding the red bolt of vengeance, rushed -upon them. The sightless horror rose in his terrible strength, and the -arrows of Vile, unerring as the lance of Hela, flew among the foes: all -was confusion, terror, and despair—cries of anguish polluted the happy -city—Odin recalled his warriors, and plunged their enemies in the burning -lake, bidding the proud Lok and the ambitious Surter obtain their wish -and seat themselves on thrones. - -But though the power of the infernal spirits was thus curbed, it was not -destroyed; and, still invincible in malice, they resolved to wound Odin -through his favourite, man. Lok gave birth to the snaky sin, whose folds -encircle the earth, and bade him breathe from his poisonous jaws upon her -surface the blast of contention and hate: he obeyed; and man, no longer -beneficent and kind, rose up against his brother; with bitter words he -poured curses on the father who called him into life, and smote on the -bosom that had nourished him in helplessness. The father of evil beheld -and smiled—his work was half accomplished—and he called into existence -death, to finish the deeds begun: the pale shadow stalked over the earth -and drank the crimson blood till she grew wanton in her mirth, and -besought her father for a companion: he heard, and sent Fenris up to -follow her steps, and exult in her multiplied victims. The fiends in -hell heard the sounds of their triumph, and shouted responsive, when the -shivering spirits of the slain were hurled weeping into Niftheim. At -length their cruel joy was heard in Asgard, at the same moment that -sounds of sorrow ascended from the earth, from the few who still -remembered his name. It was from Scythia the plaining voice arose, and -the monarch, looking down from his throne, beheld the last remnant of his -people sinking beneath the power of the Roman. Now then he determined to -descend to the earth, not only to lead them to conquest, but teach them -wisdom and virtue. Frea, the mother of the gods, resolved to partake the -toils of her husband; and Thor, the eldest born of Odin, the ruler of the -air, forsook his palace of nine hundred and forty halls, laid by his -terrific thunderbolt, and his diadem of twelve stars, and, debasing his -giant frame to the standard of humanity, descended with his father to the -earth. Cased in the armour of Scythians, they joined the troops of that -beloved people, and the father god bidding them contend no longer against -the power of the Romans, to whom Odin had given their country, promised -to lead them to other fields, and give them other lands for their -inheritance. The fierce Scythians yielded to the persuasive voice of him -whom they only knew as the warrior Sigge, and, rather than submit to the -slavery they abhorred, they forsook the tombs of their fathers, and -sought an empire in the north. - -In vain the inhabitants of these regions sought to oppose the -establishment of the heaven-conducted Scythians; in every battle they -were defeated and driven with loss from their cities: the arrows of Frea -carried destruction to the enemy—the mallet of Thor crushed thousands—and -Odin, raging through their ranks, now as a warrior, now as a ferocious -lion, spread devastation through their armies, and drove them from the -field. The Scythians saw these wonders, and secretly acknowledged -Valhalla’s lord beneath the form of Sigge. When the rage of battle was -past, he lulled the wounded to repose, and arrested the parting spirits -of the dying with the celestial strains of his harp; the wounds of his -people were cured, and their strength restored by his celestial power, -while, from the same cause, his enemies were bereft of courage and of -vigour. Sweden and Norway yielded to the matchless warrior, and received -with joy the unknown Sigge for their king, but the Danes refused to -acknowledge the leader of armies; and Mimer, their prince, an enchanter, -and the friend of Lok, opposed himself against the victorious prince of -Scythia. Before the assembled Danes he contended with the stranger in -eloquence and poetry, and in these his own people were compelled, by the -severe laws of truth, to yield the palm to his rival. Mimer was wise, -eloquent, and brave; the strains of his harp were only inferior to those -of Sigge, and he felt deeply the injury which he had sustained by the -decision against him. Determined to recover, with his sword, the glory -he had lost, he called his armies together, and bade defiance to the -Scythians: the opposing bands drew near; furious was the contest, for -now, like a tiger sprung Mimer on his foes—now as a fiery serpent stung -their hearts, or crushed them in his mighty folds. As terrible raged -Odin in various forms, carrying dismay around him, and thinning the ranks -of the valiant Danes. At length the monarchs met—in human form stood -Mimer—in human form, prepared to oppose him, stood Valhalla’s mighty -king: but momentary was the contest, the terrible blow of the Scythian -brought the head of the Dane to his feet, as its faltering tongue -pronounced the name of Odin. The foe fled to the camp, while the father -of men again raised to life his beloved Scythians who had fallen in this, -the greatest of his fields. At length, wishing to give peace to the -weary land, he summoned the Danish chiefs to meet him in conference. -Seated on a throne, he received the warriors: in one hand he held the -sceptre of his power, the other rested on a golden dish, in which, now -richly embalmed, and adorned with a crown of gold, lay the head of the -wretched Mimer. The chiefs gazed in silence—a silence unbroken by human -sounds, but disturbed by the voice of the dead, for the ghastly head -opened its closed lips, fixed its eyes, and bade, in hollow but -authoritative tones, its countrymen no longer oppose the will of the -gods, but receive for their prince and lawgiver him who was master of the -world! Again it sunk into silence, and the astonished Danes, obeying its -dictates, fell at the feet of the conqueror of Mimer. And now, seated in -peace on the thrones of the north, more brightly shone the unmatched -virtues of Sigge. He taught his subjects husbandry—he taught them to -plough the waters—he opened to them the riches of commerce—and he dug -from the earth the treasures which ages had concealed in her bosom;—he -punished vice with severity—he rewarded virtue with munificence—he taught -them letters, instructed them in the mysteries of the Runic—and obliged -them to cultivate the milder graces of music and verse;—he allured men to -obey by the charms of his eloquence and the splendour of his glory; and -he spoke to their reason by his divine Hovamaal, which he gave them as -his best gift—his richest legacy. In this he bade them do no wrong to -each other—to honour the eternal gods—and to render up life at the -command of their country. When he beheld the good effect of his -regulations, and saw his people firmly attached to his laws, he called -around him his children, born of his mortal wives, of the daughters of -Scythia, and, dividing his dominions among them, taught them to govern -according to his ordinances and example. Satisfied with his work, he -called Frea and Thor to his side, and, blessing once more his mortal -children, ascended with them into the regions of light. Then loudly the -Danes acknowledged Odin, and paid their homage to his glory; to his race -they have ever been faithful, for they still fill the earthly thrones of -their father, who, from his abode in Asgard, looks down upon his -children, and crowns their lives with prosperity: and thus shall he do -till the long night which is to witness the last battle of the gods—the -last attack of Lok and his allies, and which for ages they have been -preparing—against Odin and the happy spirits of Asgard. In the dreadful -conflict, men and demons, oceans, earths, Niftheim, nay, even Asgard -itself, shall be involved in one general wreck—one entire and -undistinguished ruin; the infernal spirits shall fall in the -convulsions—evil shall be no more—and from the ashes of the universe -shall arise a brighter heaven—a gloomier hell, than those which have -passed away. To the glorious seats of Gimle, the city of burnished -gold—to its diamond-studded palaces and star-paved courts—shall the -spirits of the just ascend, with Odin and his triumphant sons, to the -enjoyment of one endless festival; while the cowards and wicked of the -earth shall sink with their infernal allies—the revolted of heaven—into -the caves of Nastronde, an abode more horrible than Niftheim—a den built -up of the carcasses of snakes, and illuminated by devouring flames, where -ever-enduring sorrow shall be the punishment of the lost, from which they -shall have no power to escape, again to disturb the repose of the just. - -Honour and praise to Frea—victory to Thor—glory to Odin, the greatest, -and the best—hail to the master of gods and men! - - * * * * * - -Happily for his hearers, it was here, at length, that the merciless -Brandomann terminated his long-winded history. Sleipner had for some -time been his only auditor—Ildegarda had been nodding repeatedly—Heidruna -fidgetily trotting backwards and forwards to the portal, watching the -clouds—Serimnor had given two or three most portentous yawns—while the -two ravens who did every thing in concert, had tucked their heads under -their wings, and gone fairly to sleep:—but they all started up when the -hum of his voice had ceased, and thanked the good Brandomann as sincerely -as if they had been excessively delighted, for they were grateful that he -had finished at last, and were besides too well bred not to be charmed -with what had been done entirely for their amusement. - -On the following day, during their usual rambles about the island, the -princess looked so unusually depressed, and said so little in reply to -the observations of her companion, that his attention, ever on the watch, -was aroused by her sadness; tenderly he inquired the cause. “I will tell -you,” replied Ildegarda: “when absent from you, and believing your life -in danger, my only anxiety was to return; now, when that difficulty has -passed away, I confess I am wretched respecting my father’s feelings and -conduct, when he shall discover that I have quitted him for ever; neither -is my heart without a pang when I reflect that I shall see him no more. -Oh that I knew what is to come!—that I could look into the future, and -behold my destiny and his!” “I know not that it is in my power -altogether to fulfil your wishes,” answered Brandomann; “but I can give -you a glance into the future, so as to discover its general complexion, -but not to enable you to read exactly the very page of destiny. That -which I can, to gratify your curiosity, I will do,—I will arrest for a -few minutes the flight of the triune deity Time, and, by her appearance, -we shall be able to judge of what is to come.—Urda, Werandi, Skulda!” -continued Brandomann, raising his powerful voice to its utmost pitch, -“obey the command of the lord of the Maelstrom, the mighty delegate of -Odin—pause in your flight for a moment, and stand visibly before him!” -Scarcely was the peremptory order uttered, ere a light cloud was seen -advancing towards them from the sea, and when it became stationary -Ildegarda beheld a female form slowly and gracefully emerging from its -centre; her features were indistinctly visible, and upon the floating -misty robe that enveloped her figure, many changing objects were, some -faintly, some powerfully, represented. “It is Urda the Past,” said -Brandomann to Ildegarda; “the events written upon her breast and brow are -partially concealed in her garment of oblivion and doubt; and when this -is penetrated by mortal sight, they are still seen through the mists of -passion and prejudice, by which she is ever surrounded: look now upon her -breast and brow—what objects do they represent to you?” “I see a -criminal,” said the princess, “about to suffer the sentence of -justice—the executioner is preparing to strike.” “To my view the -representation is different,” replied Brandomann; “I see a crowned king -falling beneath the murderous swords of his rebellious subjects.” “I -observe a dying parent,” continued Ildegarda, “who consigns his child to -a noble warrior who weeps by his couch, but presses the babe to his -heart.” “I also see the dying father,” said Brandomann, “but he resigns -his infant to a demon in form, and worse than a demon in heart, for he -instantly plunges a dagger in its throat: what else do you remark?” -“Many other objects,” continued the princess, “but nothing clearly; the -goddess herself is retiring slowly from my gaze, and to whom does she -give place?” “To Werandi the Present,” answered Brandomann, “in -snow-white robe, with her unveiled face and open brow and eye—how clear -she looks upon us!—and her garments will shew us our actions of this -moment:—but she retires, and Skulda the Future supplies her place; clad -in a robe of darkness, she exhibits nothing to our eyes, and the veil -which covers her person conceals also her face from our observation: she -shall withdraw it, and her smile or frown will shadow forth your -destiny.” The goddess gently withdrew her veil, and the soft enchanting -smile which she beamed upon the princess banished anxiety from her bosom, -and graced the departure of the triune spirit with the sweet attribute of -benevolence. - -A few days after the prophetic smile of the deity of Time had given such -hope to the heart of Ildegarda, they were wandering about the gardens of -the palace, astonished by the roaring of thunders which announced a -distant storm: they were surprised by the sudden change from daylight to -darkness, and were puzzling each other respecting its cause, when the -storm died rapidly away, the clouds fell down in a gentle shower, and the -rainbow bridge stood out in faint splendour from the heavens. “Look, -dearest,” said Brandomann; “the spirit of the bow has lowered his -beautiful bridge—some of the lesser warriors are ascending to Valhalla—I -will address the guardian of it, and bid him render the road and its -passengers visible to your sight.—All hail Heimdaller of the coloured -crown!” continued Brandomann, “the friend of Odin speaks to thee; -beautiful spirit of the rushing wings and eyes of tender glory, let us -look upon thy face, and the road which leads to thy dwelling!” The -silvery voice of the spirit answered him, giving an immediate assent to -his desire, and in a moment the road and its travellers became visible to -Ildegarda. Slowly, and with feeble steps, the wounded warriors dragged -themselves on till they reached the summit of the bridge, when the gates -of light flew open, and the spirit, in giving them his hand bestowed upon -them strength and beauty, and thus prepared them for the presence of Odin -and the glories of the Valhalla. - -While Ildegarda with intense interest was watching the solemn procession -of the dead, her eyes were suddenly dazzled by a brilliant light thrown -upon the bridge, which now shone out in tenfold splendour, colouring the -mountains of the island with tints of its beautiful hues. She looked up, -and beheld the spirit of the bow descending, glorious in his youthful -beauty; his diadem of many-coloured gems was on his lofty brow, and, in -the ineffable loveliness of his sunny smile, there was a sweetness that -made Ildegarda weep. “He goes to welcome one of the greatest of mortal -heroes,” said Brandomann—“one of the favourites of Odin; his presence -throws this glory round him, and at this moment the beings of earth, who -gaze upon the bridge, behold its colours at the brightest: but see—at the -foot of the arch there is one ascending to meet the spirit!—his wounds -are terrible—his bosom is fearfully gored—and his steps are feeble and -slow—but he has the brow and the port of a hero; as yet I know him not.” -“But _I_ do!” shrieked the hapless Ildegarda—“O Brandomann, I know him -well!” The lord of the Maelstrom looked up again, and painfully -recognised the shadow—it was indeed her father;—the pale inhabitant of -another world, whom she saw ascending slowly to meet the welcome smile of -the angel of light, was once the noble Haquin, the last friend of Harold -and his sons. Brandomann gazed in grief and terror, and the sorrow he -felt for the death of the warrior was scarcely mitigated by the change -wrought in his wearied frame by the touch of the radiant Heimdaller. -“Ildegarda!” he cried in a voice of tenderness and pity; “Ildegarda, -think not that thou art alone in the world, or that all that loved thee -have left it; look up, my dear one!—look on the happiness of thy noble -father, and cease to regret his fate; what could thy love offer him in -exchange for this?” Ildegarda mournfully assented as she saw his glory, -and her grief became more resigned and gentle. She returned to the -palace with Brandomann, who, far from attempting to console, wept with -her the loss she had sustained. In the evening her friends did not as -usual visit the island, but they explained the cause of their absence on -the next. It was in honour of Haquin they had been detained at Valhalla, -as Odin had commanded the feast earlier, in order to compliment this -noble warrior,—“who now,” continued Sleipner, “sits highest in the hall, -and nearest to Odin’s self.” - -Time reconciled the princess to her father’s death, and to her hopeless -imprisonment in Moskoe. The generous Brandomann, now that she had lost -in the world all that was dear to her, and was most entirely in his -power, never spoke to her of the love which it was but too plain he bore -her. She saw and rewarded his virtue. - -“Brandomann!” she said to him one day as they wandered through the -gardens of the desolate isle; “Brandomann, friend of my heart, in the -world, where my father walks no longer, I have no interest, and can never -wish to return; yet I feel that I could love and render some deserving -being more happy than a lonely destiny could make him; thou alone art -worthy of this heart, and of the duty which I will pay thee; I cannot -love thee as I once loved Haldane—as I fear I should love him still—that -feeling it is not in thy power to inspire; but I honour thy virtue, and -am grateful for its exercise. Wilt thou accept this hand—this heart? If -so, take me, Brandomann, for I am thine!” - -She threw herself as she spoke, into the arms which opened transportedly -to receive her, and bowed her head upon his breast. She could not -distinguish his reply, for a sudden peal of thunder rolled above their -heads, and the earth was shaken to its foundation—a frightful darkness -covered the island, and shrieks and howlings rung in their ears, mingled -with shouts of triumph and the cheering blasts of the trumpet. Ildegarda -clung closer to her lover for protection, when a gentle, well-known voice -reassured her spirits and relieved her terrors. “Look on me, my -beloved,” it said; “look on me, and receive the reward of thy virtue, and -the approbation of Heaven on thy choice.” The princess raised her eyes -to the face of her lover, and beheld—not Brandomann, but Haldane—the one, -the only beloved, the first choice of her innocent heart; it was on his -bosom she leaned—it was his arm that supported her slender form: she -trembled with painful emotion. “But Brandomann?” she demanded—“Is at thy -feet, my beloved,” replied the graceful warrior: “beneath that hideous -form, Lok, in revenge for an ancient scorn, had condemned me to wear out -my life, unless I could inspire a royal virgin with sufficient love to -become my wife. Odin, in compassion to my sufferings, confined me to -this island, and endowed me with sufficient power to fulfil the -condition, and deceive and baffle the evil spirits themselves, by the -means of their wretched agent, the detestable Frotho. Around thee stand -the gallant chiefs and the Norwegian captives, who were sent against the -monster of the Maelstrom, and who seemed to be destroyed by my vengeance; -they are now my friends, and wait to conduct us to Denmark, where Haldane -will lay his crown at thy feet.” The chiefs paid their homage to the -princess, and immediately after, there arrived, to offer their sincere -congratulations, her tender friends of many moons, the eight-legged, -four-legged, and two-legged animals of Valhalla. Ildegarda, even on the -bosom of Haldane, wept at the parting; for she knew she should behold -them no more. They attended her to the shore, and beheld her embark in -the gallant ship which Niord, at the command of Odin, had preserved for -them in one of the ocean caves. Soon they were wafted to Denmark, and -Haldane burst upon the usurper so suddenly, that he had no time even to -arm his household guards for his defence. He was presiding at a festival -when Haldane entered his presence; some of his nobles humbly acknowledged -their prince, and the others, not caring to attack him, made the best of -their way out of the palace, leaving the miserable Frotho in the power of -his nephew, who, without giving him time to make his will, threw him -headlong into the cistern of mead before which he was sitting. - -Whether Haldane, in his natural shape, was as amiable and complaisant as -he had been under his assumed one, is a question which the historian of -his life cannot answer—nor whether Ildegarda, on her throne in Denmark, -found as true friends and faithful servants as she had in the gulf of the -Maelstrom: certain it is, she lived to a great age with her glorious -husband, (who was the greatest prince of the race of Dan that ever swayed -the sceptre of the north,) and that once or twice during their lives they -had together visited the desolate isle; and the princess, to the great -scandal of the ladies and gentlemen of the court, and surprise of her -husband, wept bitterly on finding that the marble palace and its -beautiful gardens had disappeared, the Moskoe isle had resumed its -ancient appearance, and nothing remained to mark it out as the scene of -such wonders as had passed in it. It has much the same character at this -hour; and it would be very difficult to persuade its inhabitants, or the -stranger who may visit its shores, that it once was a paradise only -second to the bowers of Valasciolf’s own. You, gentle reader, know -better; and complimenting you on the patience by which you have acquired -this knowledge, I bid you, for the present, farewell. - - - -NOTES -TO THE -LORD OF THE MAELSTROM. - - -PART I. - - -_Olave the Second_—one of the early kings of Denmark, of the race of Dan. -These princes believed themselves descended from Odin. Olave was a -worthless, profligate prince, who left two sons, who succeeded him; the -elder, Frotho the Fifth, murdered his brother Harold, and afterwards the -assassin who, by his own order, had stabbed him. He endeavoured to -secure the persons of the princes his nephews; but a nobleman, friend to -their father, conveyed them out of his reach, and concealed them in a -cave till they were of an age to revenge these injuries. - -_Asgard_—the country of the gods; the Olympus of the north. - -Valasciolf—its chief city, in which the principal divinities and more -illustrious dead resided in magnificent palaces. - -_Valhalla_—the chief palace of Valasciolf, the regal residence of Odin. - -_Niftheim_—Hell. A territory of devouring flames typifying eternal -remorse; the abode of the evil principle and his attendant spirits. - -_Feggo_—the brother of Harwendil, king of Jutland, and uncle to Hamlet. -The latter prince feigned madness after the murder of his father, but -killed Feggo at a festival. He succeeded to the crown, which he wore -with honour till killed in battle by Viglet, king of Denmark. - -_Lok_—the evil principle. He gave birth to Midgard (sin), the snake -whose folds encircle the earth—Hela (death)—and the wolf Fenris, the -guardian of the gate of hell; these were the evil progeny of Lok, -begotten for the destruction of the human race. - -_Surter_—the evil divinity of fire—the next in rank to Lok. The -Scythians represented him as a beautiful youth; the Saxons as an old man, -to whose honour they dedicated the seventh day of the week. - -_Balder_—son of Odin, god of eloquence and poetry, and ruler of the -sun—the Scandinavian Apollo. He was represented as a youth with a -burning wheel upon his breast; his face resembled the sun. - -_Nastronde_—According to the Scandinavian mythology, at the end of the -world, during a night which was to last a year, a tremendous battle was -to be fought between the good and evil spirits, in which the former were -to conquer and reign in Gimle, a more glorious heaven than Asgard; while -the wicked were to be banished to Nastronde, a new hell, made purposely -for them. - - -PART II. - - -_Maelstrom_, _Malestrom_, or _Moskoestrom_—a tremendous whirlpool on the -Norwegian coast, very dangerous, and often fatal to navigators venturing -too near it. Moskoe is an island situated in the gulf: there are also -several others. - -_Sleipner_—the warrior horse of Odin. He had four black legs and four -white ones: he generally travelled through the air. - -_Rinda_—daughter of Balder, and mother of Vile, by Odin. The favourite -goddess of the Scandinavian women. - -_Hydrasil_—the tree of heaven, standing in the garden of Odin. It was -the abode of the disposer of man’s destiny. - - -PART III. - - -_Heidruna_—the immortal goat, whose milk was the hydromel served up -nightly at the festivals of Valhalla. - -_Serimnor_—the wild boar, whose flesh served them for food. - -_Hugo_ and _Mumin_—the raven messengers of Odin. - -_Thor_—the warrior god—the eldest son of Odin, who, in his journey over -the world, defeated Midgard, and loosened his folds from the earth; he is -typical of divine justice and vengeance. In the beautiful fables of the -Scalds, he is represented as a stern warrior, armed with an enormous -mallet, and wearing a crown of twelve stars. He lived in a palace of -Valasciolf, of five hundred and forty halls, and was the ruler and -wielder of the thunderbolt. - -_Forsete_—divinity of controversy. I believe this deity is peculiar to -the Scandinavians. He lived in a palace called Glitner. - -_Blind horror_—Hoder—whose name was never pronounced by the Scythians -without fear and immediate expiation—son of Odin, and born blind—the -deity of strength. He was abhorred in heaven, because, from envy, he -attacked Balder, threw him from his throne, and put out the sun. Odin -interfered, and punished Hoder by the arrows of Vile (lightning), and -afterwards restored the sun. It was thus, in their beautiful and -fanciful mythology, like the Greeks, and I think no less elegantly, that -the Scalds described natural, but not understood events. This story -describes an eclipse of the sun, the strong and blind Hoder signifying -darkness. - -_Lofna_—goddess of reconciliation. I believe this deity is also peculiar -to the Scythians; they have deified her with great propriety. Her post -could not have been a sinecure in a paradise where happiness consisted in -drinking and fighting. - -_Hiarn_—his story is strictly historical. It was Eric the Third who was -so maddened by music as to commit murder for no other cause. - -_Geysers_—boiling spouting springs in Iceland: they are near to Skalholt -and Hecla; they spout water to a tremendous and incredible height. - -_Dofrefeld_—a mighty range of Norwegian mountains, intersected by rivers -and cataracts. - -_Dolsteen_—a wonderful cavern beneath the Dofrefeld mountains. - -_Niord_—the Scandinavian Neptune. - - -PART IV. - - -_Uffon_—this story is also historical. Shakspeare, who read Danish -history, borrowed the circumstance of Vermund’s death for that of Gloster -in King Lear. - -_Lidscialf_—the throne of Odin. - -_Heimdaller_—guardian of the bridge Bifrost, or the rainbow, by which the -happy dead ascended into Asgard. He received the souls who were selected -by the Valkyries, and conducted them to Odin. - -_Vile_—god of archery; son of Odin and Rinda. - - -PART V. - - -_Brage_—god of music and song. - -_Hovamaal_—bible of Odin. - -_Odin_—a wise and virtuous warrior, whose beneficence procured him among -the early Scythians, deification. As a divinity, the father of gods and -men, he is the husband of Frea (the earth), and from the union of divine -love and the earth, spring light, heat, the elements, the seasons, -strength, and genius, typified by Balder, Thor, Frey, Hoder, and Balder -again, as orator and poet. Odin, mounted upon his horse Sleipner, -represents active benevolence. - - - - -THE SPECTRE BARBER. - - - Sir Ryence of North Gales greeteth well thee, - And bids thy beard anon to him send, - Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend.—_Percy_. - -THERE formerly lived at Bremen, a wealthy merchant named Melchior, of -whom it was remarked that he invariably stroked his chin with complacency -whenever the subject of the sermon was the rich man in the Gospel; who, -by-the-bye, in comparison with him, was only a petty retail dealer. This -said Melchior possessed such great riches, that he had caused the floor -of his dining-room to be paved with crown-pieces, which ridiculous luxury -gave great offence to his fellow-citizens and relations. They attributed -it to vanity and ostentation, but did not guess its true motive; however, -it perfectly answered the end Melchior designed by it; for, by their -constantly expressing their disapprobation of this ostentatious species -of vanity, they spread abroad the report of their neighbour’s immense -riches, and thereby augmented his credit in a most astonishing degree. - -At length Melchior died suddenly, while at a corporation dinner, and -consequently had not time to make a disposition of his property by will; -so that his only son Francis, who was just of age, came into possession -of the whole. This young man was particularly favoured by fortune, both -with respect to his personal advantages and his goodness of heart; but -his immense inheritance caused his ruin. He had no sooner got into the -possession of so considerable a fortune, than he squandered it, as if it -had been a burthen to him; ran into every possible extravagance, and -neglected his concerns. Two or three years passed over without his -perceiving that, owing to his dissipations, his funds were considerably -reduced; but at length his coffers were emptied: and one day, when -Francis had drawn a draft to a very considerable amount on his banker, -who had no funds to meet it, it was returned to him protested. This -disappointment greatly vexed our prodigal, but only as it caused a -temporary check to his wishes; for he did not even then give himself the -trouble to inquire into the reason of it. After swearing and blustering -for some time, he gave his steward a positive but laconic order to _get -money_. - -All the brokers, money-changers, and usurers, were put in requisition, -and the empty coffers were soon filled; for the dining-room floor was in -the eyes of the lenders a sufficient security. - -This paliative had its effect for a time; but all at once a report was -spread abroad in the city that the celebrated silver floor had been taken -up: the consequence of which was, that the lenders insisted on examining -into and proving the fact, and then became urgent for payment; but as -Francis had not the means to meet their demands, they seized on all his -goods and chattels; every thing was sold by auction, and he had nothing -left excepting a few jewels, which had formed part of his heritage, and -which might for a short time keep him from starving. - -He now took up his abode in a small street in one of the most remote -quarters of the city, where he lived on his straitened means. He, -however, accommodated himself to his situation; but the only resource -that he found against the _ennui_ which overpowered him was to play on -the lute; and when fatigued by this exercise, he used to stand at his -window and make observations on the weather; and his intelligent mind was -not long in discovering an object which soon entirely engrossed all his -thoughts. - -Opposite his window there lived a respectable woman, who was at her -spinning wheel from morning till night, and by her industry earned a -subsistence for herself and her daughter. Meta was a young girl of great -beauty and attraction: she had known happier times: for her father had -been the proprietor of a vessel freighted by himself, in which he -annually made trading voyages to Antwerp; but he, as well as the ship and -all its cargo, was lost in a violent storm. His widow sustained this -double loss with resignation and firmness, and resolved to support -herself and her daughter by her own industry. She made over the house -and furniture to the creditors of her husband, and took up her abode in -the little bye street where Francis lodged, where, by her assiduity she -acquired a subsistence without laying herself under an obligation to any -one. She brought up her daughter to spinning and other works, and lived -with so much economy, that by her savings she was enabled to set up a -little trade in linen. - -Mother Bridget (which was the appellation given to our widow,) did not, -however, calculate on terminating her existence in this penurious -situation; and the hope of better prospects sustained her courage. The -beauty and excellent qualities of her daughter, whom she brought up with -every possible care and attention, led her to think that some -advantageous offer would one day present itself. Meta lived tranquilly -and lonely with her mother, was never seen in any of the public walks, -and indeed never went out but to mass once a day. - -One day, while Francis was making his metrological observations at the -window, he saw the beautiful Meta, who, under her mother’s watchful eye, -was returning from church. The heart of Francis was as yet quite free: -for the boisterous pleasures of his past life did not leave him leisure -for a true affection; but at this time, when all his senses were calm, -the appearance of one of the most enchanting female forms he had ever -seen, ravished him, and he henceforth thought solely of the adorable -object which his eyes had thus discovered. He questioned his landlord -respecting the two females who lived in the opposite house, and from him -learned the particulars we have just related. - -He now regretted his want of economy, since his present miserable state -prevented him from making an offer to the charming Meta. He was, -however, constantly at the window, in hopes of seeing her; and in that -consisted his greatest delight. The mother very soon discovered the -frequent appearance of her new neighbour at his window, and attributed it -to its right cause. In consequence, she rigorously enjoined her daughter -not to show herself at the windows, which were now kept constantly shut. - -Francis was not much versed in the arts of finesse, but love awakened all -the energies of his soul. He soon discovered that if he appeared much at -the window, his views would be suspected; and he resolved therefore -studiously to refrain from coming near it. He determined, however, to -continue his observation of what occurred in the opposite dwelling -without being perceived. He accordingly purchased a large mirror, and -fixed it in his chamber in such a position that it distinctly presented -to his view what passed in the abode of his opposite neighbour. Francis -not being seen at the window, the old lady relaxed in her rigour, and -Meta’s windows were once more opened. Love, more than ever, reigned -triumphant in the bosom of Francis; but how was he to make known his -attachment to its object? he could neither speak nor write to her. Love, -however, soon suggested a mode of communication which succeeded. Our -prodigal took his lute, and drew from it tones the best adapted to -express the subject of his passion: and by perseverance, in less than a -month he made a wonderful progress. He soon had the gratification of -seeing the fair hand of Meta open the little casement, when he began to -tune his instrument. When she made her appearance, he testified his joy -by an air lively and gay; but if she did not show herself, the melancholy -softness of his tones discovered the disappointment he experienced. - -In the course of a short time, he created a great interest in the bosom -of his fair neighbour; and soon had reason to be convinced that Meta -shared a mutual attachment. She now endeavoured to justify him, when her -mother with acrimony spoke of his prodigality and past misconduct, by -attributing his ruin to the effect of bad example. But in so doing, she -cautiously avoided exciting the suspicions of the old lady; and seemed -less anxious to excuse him, than to take a part in the conversation that -was going on. - -Circumstances, which our limits will not allow us to relate, rendered the -situation of Francis more and more difficult to be supported; his funds -had now nearly failed him; and an offer of marriage from a wealthy -brewer, who was called in the neighbourhood the “King of Hops,” but which -Meta, much to her mother’s disappointment, refused, excited still more -the apprehensions of poor Francis, lest some more fortunate suitor might -yet be received and blast his hopes for ever. - -When he received the information that this opulent lover had been -rejected for his sake, with what bitterness did he lament his past -follies. - -“Generous girl,” said he, “you sacrifice yourself for a miserable -creature, who has nothing but a heart fondly attached to you, and which -is riven with despair that its possessor cannot offer you the happiness -you so truly merit.” - -The King of Hops soon found another female, who listened more kindly to -his vows, and whom he wedded with great splendour. - -Love, however, did not leave his work incomplete; for its influence -created in the mind of Francis a desire of exerting his faculties and -actively employing himself, in order, if possible, to emerge from the -state of nothingness into which he was at present plunged; and it -inspired him also with courage to prosecute his good intention. Among -various projects which he formed, the most rational appeared that of -overlooking his father’s books, taking an account of the claimable debts, -and from that source to get all he possibly could. The produce of this -procedure would, he thought, furnish him with the means of beginning in -some small way of business; and his imagination led him to extend this to -the most remote corners of the earth. In order to equip himself for the -prosecution of his plans, he sold all the remainder of his father’s -effects, and with the money purchased a horse to begin his travels. - -The idea of a separation from Meta was almost more than he could endure. -“What will she think,” said he, “of this sudden disappearance, when she -no longer meets me in her way to church? Will she not think me -perfidious, and banish me from her heart?” Such ideas as these caused -him infinite pain; and for a long while he could not devise any means of -acquainting Meta with his plans; but at length the fertile genius of love -furnished him with the following idea:—Francis went to the curate of the -church which his mistress daily frequented, and requested him, before the -sermon and during mass, to put up prayers for a happy issue to the -affairs of a young traveller; and these prayers were to be continued till -the moment of his return, when they were to be changed into those of -thanks. - -Every thing being arranged for his departure, he mounted his steed, and -passed close under Meta’s window. He saluted her with a very significant -air, and with much less caution than heretofore. The young girl blushed -deeply; and mother Bridget took this opportunity of loudly expressing her -dislike to this bold adventurer, whose impertinence and foppery induced -him to form designs on her daughter. - -From this period the eyes of Meta in vain searched for Francis. She -constantly heard the prayer which was put up for him; but was so entirely -absorbed by grief at no longer perceiving the object of her affection, -that she paid no attention to the words of the priest. In no way could -she account for his disappearing. Some months afterwards, her grief -being somewhat ameliorated and her mind more tranquillized, when she was -one day thinking of the last time she had seen Francis, the prayer -arrested her attention; she reflected for an instant, and quickly divined -for whom it was said; she naturally joined in it with great fervour, and -strongly recommended the young traveller to the protection of her -guardian angel. - -Meanwhile Francis continued his journey, and had travelled the whole of a -very sultry day, over one of the desert cantons of Westphalia without -meeting with a single house. As night approached, a violent storm came -on: the rain fell in torrents; and poor Francis was soaked to the very -skin. In this miserable situation he anxiously looked around, and -fortunately discovered in the distance a light, towards which he directed -his horse’s steps; but as he drew near, he beheld a miserable cottage, -which did not promise him much succour, for it more resembled a stable -than the habitation of a human being. The unfeeling wretch who inhabited -it, refused him fire or water, as if he had been a banished man—he was -just about to extend himself on the straw in the midst of the cattle, and -his indolence prevented his lighting a fire for the stranger. Francis -vainly endeavoured to move the peasant to pity: the latter was -inexorable, and blew out his candle with the greatest nonchalance -possible, without bestowing a thought on Francis. However, as the -traveller hindered him from sleeping, by his incessant lamentations and -prayers, he was anxious to get rid of him. - -“Friend,” said he to him, “if you wish to be accommodated, I promise you -it will not be here; but ride through the little wood to your left hand, -and you will find the castle belonging to the chevalier Eberhard -Bronkhorst, who is very hospitable to travellers; but he has a singular -mania, which is, to flagellate all whom he entertains: therefore decide -accordingly.” - -Francis, after considering for some minutes, resolved on hazarding the -adventure. “In good faith,” said he, “there is no great difference -between having one’s back broken by the miserable accommodation of a -peasant, or by the chevalier Bronkhorst: friction disperses fever; -possibly its effects may prove beneficial to me, if I am compelled to -keep on my wet garments.” - -Accordingly he put spurs to his horse, and very shortly found himself -before a gothic castle, at the iron gate of which he loudly knocked, and -was answered from within by—“Who’s there?” But ere he was allowed time -to reply, the gate was opened. However, in the first court he was -compelled to wait with patience, till they could learn whether it was the -lord of the castle’s pleasure to flagellate a traveller, or send him out -to pass the night under the canopy of heaven. - -The lord of the castle had from his earliest infancy served in the -Imperial army, under the command of George of Funsberg, and had himself -led a company of infantry against the Venetians. At length, however, -fatigued with warfare, he had retired to his own territory, where, in -order to expiate the crimes he had committed during the several campaigns -he had been in, he did all the good and charitable acts in his power. -But his manner still retained all the roughness of his former profession. -The newly-arrived guest, although disposed to submit to the usages of the -house, for the sake of the good fare, could not help feeling a certain -trembling of fear as he heard the bolts grating, ere the doors were -opened to him; and which, by their groaning noise, seemed to presage the -catastrophe which awaited him. A cold perspiration came over him as he -passed the last door; but finding that he received the utmost attention, -his fears a little abated. The servants assisted him in getting off his -horse, and unfastened his cloak-bag; some of them led his horse to the -stable, whilst others preceding him with flambeaux, conducted him to -their master, who awaited his arrival in a room magnificently lighted up. - -Poor Francis was seized with a universal tremor, when he beheld the -martial air and athletic form of the lord of the castle, who came up to -him and shook him by the hand with so much force as nearly to make him -cry out, and in a thundering voice, enough to stun him, told him he was -welcome. Francis trembled like an aspen leaf in every part of his body. - -“What ails you, my young comrade?” cried the chevalier Bronkhorst; “what -makes you thus tremble, and render you as pale as if death had actually -seized you in the throat?” - -Francis recovered himself; and knowing that his shoulders would pay his -reckoning, his fears gave place to a species of audacity. - -“My lord,” answered he with confidence, “you see that I am so soaked with -rain that one might suppose I had swam through the Wezer; order me -therefore some dry clothes instead of these I have on, and let us then -drink a cup of hot wine, that I may, if possible, prevent the fever, -which otherwise may probably seize me. It will comfort my heart.” - -“Admirable!” replied the chevalier; “ask for whatever you want, and -consider yourself here as at home.” - -Accordingly Francis gave his orders like a baron of high degree: he sent -away the wet clothes, made choice of others, and, in fine, made himself -quite at his ease. The chevalier, so far from expressing any -dissatisfaction at his free and easy manners, commanded his people to -execute whatever he ordered with promptitude, and condemned some of them -as blockheads, who did not appear to know how to wait on a stranger. As -soon as the table was spread, the chevalier seated himself at it with his -guest; and they drank a cup of hot wine together. - -“Do you wish for any thing to eat?” demanded the lord. - -Francis desired he would order up what his house afforded, that he might -see whether his kitchen was good. - -No sooner had he said this, than the steward made his appearance, and -furnished up a most delicious repast, Francis did not wait for his being -requested to partake of it: but after having made a hearty meal, he said -to the lord of the castle, “Your kitchen is by no means despicable; if -your cellar is correspondent, I cannot but say you treat your guests -nobly.” - -The chevalier made a sign to his butler, who brought up some inferior -wine, and filled a large glass to his master, who drank to his guest. -Francis instantly returned the compliment. - -“Well, young man, what say you to my wine?” asked the chevalier. - -“‘Faith,” replied Francis, “I say it is bad, if it is the best you have -in your cellar; but if you have none worse, I do not condemn it.” - -“You are a connoisseur;” answered the chevalier. “Butler, bring us a -flask of older wine.” - -His orders being instantly attended to, Francis tasted it. “This is -indeed some good old wine, and we will stick to it if you please.” - -The servants brought in a great pitcher of it, and the chevalier, being -in high good-humour, drank freely with his guest; and then launched out -into a long history of his several feats of prowess in the war against -the Venetians. He became so overheated by the recital, that in his -enthusiasm he overturned the bottles and glasses, and flourishing his -knife as if it were a sword, passed it so near the nose and ears of -Francis, that he dreaded he should lose them in the action. - -Though the night wore away, the chevalier did not manifest any desire to -sleep; for he was quite in his elements, whenever he got on the topic of -the Venetian war. Each succeeding glass added to the heat of his -imagination as he proceeded in his narration, till at length Francis -began to apprehend that it was the prologue to the tragedy in which he -was to play the principal part; and feeling anxious to learn whether he -was to pass the night in the castle, or be turned out, he asked for a -last glass of wine to enable him to sleep well. He feared that they -would commence by filling him with wine, and that if he did not consent -to continue drinking, a pretext would be laid hold of for driving him out -of the castle with the usual chastisement. - -However, contrary to his expectation, the lord of the castle broke the -thread of his narration, and said to him:—“Good friend, every thing in -its place; to-morrow we will resume our discourse.” - -“Excuse me, sir knight,” replied Francis; “to-morrow, before sun-rise, I -shall be on my road. The distance from hence to Brabant is very -considerable, and I cannot tarry here longer, therefore permit me to take -leave of you now, that I may not disturb you in the morning.” - -“Just as you please about that; but you will not leave the castle before -I am up; we will breakfast together, and I shall accompany you to the -outer gate, and take leave of you according to my usual custom.” - -Francis needed no comment to render these words intelligible. Most -willingly would he have dispensed with the chevalier’s company to the -gate; but the latter did not appear at all inclined to deviate from his -established usage. He ordered his servant to assist the stranger in -undressing, and to take care of him till he was in bed. - -Francis found his bed an excellent one; and ere he went to sleep, he -owned that so handsome a reception could not be dearly bought at the -expense of a trifling beating. The most delightful dreams (in which Meta -bore the sway) occupied him the whole night; and he would have gone on -(thus dreaming) till mid-day, if the sonorous voice of the chevalier and -the clanking of the spurs had not disturbed him. - -It needed all Francis’s efforts to quit this delightful bed, in which he -was so comfortable, and where he knew himself to be in safety; he turned -from side to side; but the chevalier’s tremendous voice was like a -death-stroke to him, and at length he resolved to get up. Several -servants assisted him in dressing, and the chevalier waited for him at a -small, but well-served table; but Francis, knowing the moment of trial -was at hand, had no great inclination to feast. The chevalier tried to -persuade him to eat, telling him it was the best thing to keep out the -fog and the damp of the morning. - -“Sir knight,” replied Francis, “my stomach is still loaded from your -excellent supper of last evening; but my pockets are empty, and I should -much like to fill them, in order to provide against future wants.” - -The chevalier evinced his pleasure at his frankness by filling his -pockets with as much as they could contain. As soon as they brought him -his horse, which he discovered had been well groomed and fed, he drank -the last glass of wine to say Adieu, expecting that at that signal the -chevalier would take him by the collar and make him pay his welcome. -But, to his no small surprise, the chevalier contented himself with -heartily shaking him by the hand as on his arrival; and as soon as the -gate was opened, Francis rode off safe and sound. - -In no way could our traveller account for his host permitting him thus to -depart without paying the usual score. At length he began to imagine -that the peasant had simply told him the story to frighten him; and -feeling a curiosity to know whether or not it had any foundation in fact, -he rode back to the castle. The chevalier had not yet quitted the gate, -and was conversing with the servants on the pace of Francis’s horse, who -appeared to trot very roughly; and seeing the traveller return, he -supposed that he had forgotten something, and by his looks seemed to -accuse his servants of negligence. - -“What do you want, young man?” demanded he: “Why do you, who were so much -pressed for time, return?” - -“Allow me, most noble sir,” replied Francis, “to ask you one question: It -is said, that, after having hospitably received and entertained -strangers, you make them at their departure feel the weight of your arm. -And although I gave credence to this rumour, I have omitted nothing which -might have entitled me to this mark of your favour. But, strange to say, -you have permitted me to depart in peace, without even the slightest mark -of your strength. You see my surprise; therefore do pray inform me -whether there is any foundation to the report, or whether I shall -chastise the impudent story-teller who related the false tale to me.” - -“Young man,” replied Bronkhorst, “you have heard nothing but the truth; -but it needs some explanations. I open my door hospitably to every -stranger, and in Christian charity I give them a place at my table; but I -am a man who hates form or disguise: I say all I think, and only wish in -return that my guests would openly and undisguisedly ask for all they -want. There are unfortunately, however, a tribe of people, who fatigue -by their mean complaisance and ceremony, who wear me out by their -dissimulation, and stun me by propositions devoid of sense, or who do not -conduct themselves with decency during the feast. Gracious heavens! I -lose all patience when they carry their fooleries to such excess, and I -exert my right as master of the castle, by taking hold of their collars, -and giving them a tolerably severe chastisement ere I turn them out of my -gates.—But a man of your sort, my young friend, will ever be welcome -under my roof; for you boldly and openly ask for what you require, and -say what you think; and such are the persons I admire. If in your way -back you pass through this canton, promise me you will pay me another -visit. Good bye. Let me caution you never to place implicit confidence -in any thing you hear; believe only that there may be a single grain of -truth in the whole story; be always frank, and you will succeed through -life.—Heaven’s blessings attend you.” - -Francis continued his journey towards Anvers most gaily, wishing as he -went, that he might every where meet with as good a reception as at the -chevalier Bronkhorst’s. - -Nothing remarkable occurred during the rest of his journey, and he -entered the city full of the most sanguine hopes and expectations. In -every street his fancied riches stared him in the face. “It appears to -me,” said he, “that some of my father’s debtors must have succeeded in -business, and that they will only require my presence, to repay their -debts with honour.” - -After having rested from the fatigue of his journey, he made himself -acquainted with every particular relative to the debtors, and learnt that -the greater part had become rich, and were doing extremely well. This -intelligence re-animated his hopes; he arranged his papers, and paid a -visit to each of the persons who owed him any thing. But his success was -by no means equal to what he had expected; some of the debtors pretended -that they had paid every thing; others that they had never heard mention -of Melchior of Bremen; and the rest produced accounts precisely -contradictory to those he had, and which tended to prove they were -creditors instead of debtors. In fine, ere three days had elapsed, -Francis found himself in the debtor’s prison, from whence he stood no -chance of being released till he had paid the uttermost farthing of his -father’s debts. - -How pitiable was this young man’s condition! Even the horrors of the -prison were augmented by the remembrance of Meta:—nay, to such a pitch of -desperation was he carried, that he resolved to starve himself. -Fortunately, however, at twenty-seven years of age such determinations -are more easily formed, than practised. - -The intention of those who put him into confinement was not merely with a -view of exacting payment of his pretended debts, but to avoid paying him -his due; so, whether the prayers put up for poor Francis at Bremeu were -effectual, or that the pretended creditors were not disposed to maintain -him during his life, I know not; but after a detention of three months, -they liberated Francis from prison, with a particular injunction to quit -the territories of Anvers within four-and-twenty hours, and never to set -his foot within that city again:—They gave him at the same time five -florins to defray his expenses on the road. As one may well imagine his -horse and baggage had been sold to defray the costs incident to the -proceedings. - -With a heart overloaded with grief he quitted Anvers, in a very different -frame of mind to what he experienced at entering it. Discouraged and -irresolute, he mechanically followed the road which chance directed; he -paid no attention to the various travellers, nor indeed to any object on -the road, till hunger or thirst caused him to lift up his eyes to -discover a steeple or some other token announcing the habitation of human -beings. In this state of mind did he continue journeying on for several -days incessantly; nevertheless, a secret instinct impelled him to take -the road leading to his own country. - -All on a sudden he roused, as if from a profound sleep, and recollected -the place in which he was: he stopped an instant to consider whether he -should continue the road he was then in, or return: “For,” said he, “what -a shame to return to my native city a beggar!” How could he thus return -to that city in which he formerly felt equal to the richest of its -inhabitants? How could he as a beggar present himself before Meta, -without causing her to blush for the choice she had made? He did not -allow time for his imagination to complete this miserable picture, for he -instantly turned back, as if already he had found himself before the -gates of Bremen, followed by the shouts of the children. His mind was -soon made up as to what he should do; he resolved to go to one of the -ports of the Low Countries, there to engage himself as a sailor on board -of a Spanish vessel, to go to the newly-discovered world; and not to -return to his native country till he had amassed as much wealth as he had -formerly so thoughtlessly squandered. In the whole of this project, Meta -was only thought of at an immeasurable distance; but Francis contented -himself with connecting her in idea with his future plans, and walked, or -rather strode along, as if by hurrying his pace he should sooner gain -possession of her. - -Having thus attained the frontiers of the Low Countries, he arrived at -sun-set in a village situated near Rheinburg; but since entirely -destroyed in the thirty years’ war. A caravan of carriers from Liege -filled the inn so entirely, that the landlord told Francis he could not -give him a lodging; adding, that at the adjoining village he would find -accommodations.—Possibly he was actuated to this refusal by Francis’s -appearance, who certainly, in point of garb, might well be mistaken for a -vagabond. - -The landlord took him for a spy to a band of thieves, sent probably to -rob carriers; so that poor Francis, in spite of his extreme lassitude, -was compelled, with his wallet at his back, to proceed on his road; and -having at his departure, muttered through his teeth some maledictions -against the cruel and unfeeling landlord, the latter appeared touched -with compassion for the stranger, and from the door of the inn called -after him: “Young man—a word with you! If you resolve on passing the -night here, I will procure you a lodging in that castle you now see on -the hill; there you will find rooms in abundance, provided you are not -afraid of being alone, for it is uninhabited. See, here are the keys -belonging to it.” - -Francis joyfully accepted the landlord’s proposition, and thanked him for -it as if it had been an act of great charity. - -“It is to me a matter of little moment where I pass the night, provided I -am at my ease, and have something to eat.” But the landlord was an -ill-tempered fellow, and wishing to revenge the invectives Francis had -poured forth against him, he sent him to the castle, in order that he -might be tormented by the spirits which were said to frequent it. - -This castle was situated on a steep rock, and was only separated from the -village by the high road and a little rivulet. Its delightful prospects -caused it to be kept in good repair, and to be well furnished, as its -owner made use of it as a hunting seat; quitting it, however, every -night, in order to avoid the apparitions and ghosts which haunted it. - -When it was quite dark, Francis, with a lantern in his hand, proceeded -towards the castle. The landlord accompanied him, and carried a little -basket of provisions, to which he added a bottle of wine (which he said -would stand the test,) as well as two candles and two wax-tapers for the -night. Francis, not thinking he should require so many things, and being -apprehensive he should have to pay for them, asked why they were all -brought. - -“The light from my lantern,” said he, “will suffice me till the time of -my getting into bed; and ere I shall get out of it, the sun will have -risen, for I am worn out with fatigue.” - -“I will not endeavour to conceal from you,” replied the landlord, “that -according to the current reports, this castle is haunted by evil spirits; -but do not let that frighten you; you see I live sufficiently near, that, -in case any thing extraordinary should happen to you, I shall hear you -call, and shall be in readiness with my people to render you any -assistance. At my house there is somebody stirring all night, and there -is also some one constantly on the watch. I have lived on this spot for -thirty years, and cannot say that I have seen any thing to alarm me; -indeed I believe that you may with safety attribute any noises you hear -during the night in this castle, to cats and weasels, with which the -granaries are overrun. I have only provided you with the means of -keeping up a light in a case of need, for, at best, night is but a gloomy -season; and, in addition, these candles are consecrated, and their light -will undoubtedly keep off any evil spirits, should there be such in the -castle.” - -The landlord spoke only the truth, when he said he never had the courage -to set his foot within its doors after dark; and though he now spoke so -courageously, the rogue would not have ventured on any account to enter. -After having opened the door, he gave the basket to Francis, pointed out -the way he was to turn, and wished him good night; while the latter, -fully satisfied that the story of ghosts must be fabulous, gaily entered. -He recollected all that had been told him to the prejudice of the -Chevalier Bronkhorst, but unfortunately forgot what that brave Castelian -had recommended to him at parting, “always to believe there was some -truth in what he might hear.” - -Conformably to the landlord’s instructions, he went up stairs, and came -to a door, which the key in his possession soon unlocked; it opened into -a long dark gallery, where his very steps re-echoed; the gallery led to a -large hall, from which issued a suite of apartments, furnished in a -costly manner: he surveyed them all, and made choice of one in which to -pass the night, that appeared more lively than the rest. The windows -looked to the high road, and every thing that passed in front of the inn -could be distinctly heard. He lighted two candles, spread the cloth, ate -very heartily, and felt completely at his ease, so long as he was thus -employed; for while eating, no thought or apprehension of spirits -molested him; but he no sooner arose from the table, than he began to -feel a sensation strongly resembling fear. - -In order to render himself more secure, he locked the door, drew the -bolts, and then looked out from each window. Every thing along the high -road and in front of the inn was tranquil, where, contrary to the -landlord’s assertions, not a single light was discernible. The sound of -the horn belonging to the night-guard was the only thing that interrupted -the silence which universally prevailed. - -Francis closed the windows, once looked round the room, and after -snuffing the candles, that they might burn the better, he threw himself -on the bed, which he found good and comfortable; but although greatly -fatigued, he could not get to sleep so soon as he had hoped. A slight -palpitation of the heart, which he attributed to the agitation produced -by the heat of his fatiguing journey, kept him awake for a considerable -time, till at length sleep came to his aid. After having, as he -imagined, been asleep somewhat above an hour, he awoke and started up in -a state of horror, possibly not unusual to a person whose blood is -over-heated; this idea in some degree allayed his apprehensions, and he -listened attentively, but could hear nothing excepting the clock, which -struck the hour of midnight. Again he listened for an instant, and -turning on his side, he was just going off to sleep, when he thought he -heard a distant door grinding on its hinges, and then shut with a heavy -noise. In an instant the idea of the ghost approaching caused him no -little fear; but he speedily got the better of his alarm, by fancying it -was only the wind; however, he could not comfort himself long with this -belief, for the sound approached nearer and nearer, and resembled the -clanking of chains, or the rattling of a bunch of keys. - -The terror which Francis experienced was beyond all description, and he -put his head under the clothes. The doors continued to open with a -frightful noise, and at last he heard some one trying different keys at -the door of his room; one of them seemed perfectly to fit the lock, but -the bolts kept the door fast, however, a violent shock like a clap of -thunder caused them to give way, and in stalked a tall thin figure, with -a black beard, whose appearance was indicative of chagrin and melancholy. -He was habited in the antique style, and on his left shoulder wore a red -cloak or mantle, while his head was covered with a high-crowned hat. -Three times with slow and measured steps he walked round the room, -examined the consecrated candles and snuffed them: he then threw off his -cloak, unfolded a shaving apparatus, and took from it the razors, which -he sharpened on a large leather strap hanging to the belt. - -No powers are adequate to describe the agonies Francis endured: he -recommended himself to the Virgin Mary, and endeavoured, as well as his -fears would permit, to form an idea of the spectre’s designs on him. -Whether he purposed to cut his throat, or only take off his beard, he was -at a loss to determine. The poor traveller was a little more composed, -when he saw the spectre take out a silver shaving pot, and in a bason of -the same metal put some water; after which he made a lather, and placed a -chair. But a cold perspiration came over Francis, when the spectre with -a grave air, made signs for him to sit in that chair. - -He knew it was useless to resist this mandate, which was but too plainly -given; and thinking it most prudent to make a virtue of necessity, and to -put a good face on the matter, Francis obeyed the order, jumped nimbly -out of bed, and seated himself as directed. - -The spirit placed the shaving-bib round his neck; then taking a comb and -scissors, cut off his hair and whiskers; after which he lathered, -according to rule, his beard, his eye-brows, and head, and shaved them -all off completely from his chin to the nape of his neck. This operation -ended, he washed his head, wiped and dried it very nicely, made him a low -bow, folded up his case, put his cloak on his shoulder, and made towards -the door to go away. - -The consecrated candles had burnt most brilliantly during this operation; -and by their clear light Francis discovered, on looking into the glass, -that he had not a single hair remaining on his head. Most bitterly did -he deplore the loss of his beautiful brown hair; but he regained courage -on remarking, that, however great the sacrifice, all was now over, and -that the spirit had no more power over him. - -In effect, the ghost walked towards the door with as grave an air as he -had entered; but after going a few steps, he stopped, looked at Francis, -with a mournful air, and stroked his beard. He three times repeated this -action; and was on the point of quitting the room, when Francis imagined -he wanted something. With great quickness of thought he imagined it -might be that he wished him to perform a like service for him to that -which he had just been executing on himself. - -As the spectre, spite of his woe-begone aspect, appeared more inclined to -raillery than gravity, and as his proceedings towards Francis appeared -more of a species of frolic than absolute ill-treatment, the latter no -longer appeared to entertain any apprehension of him; and in consequence -determined to hazard the adventure. He therefore beckoned the phantom to -seat himself in the chair. It instantly returned and obeyed; taking off -its cloak, and unfolding the case, placed it on the table, and seated -itself in the chair, in the attitude of one about to be shaved. Francis -imitated precisely all he had seen it do: he cut off its hair and -whiskers, and then lathered its head. The spirit did not move an inch. -Our barber’s apprentice did not handle the razor very dexterously; so -that having taken hold of the ghost’s beard against the grain, the latter -made a horrible grimace. Francis did not feel much assured by this -action; however, he got through the job as well as he could, and rendered -the ghost’s head as bald as his own. - -Hitherto the scene between the two performers had passed in profound -silence: but on a sudden it was interrupted by the ghost exclaiming, with -a smiling countenance—“Stranger, I heartily thank you for the eminent -service you have rendered me; for to you I am indebted for deliverance -from my long captivity. During the space of three hundred years I have -been immersed within these walls, and my soul has been condemned to -submit to this chastisement as a punishment for my crimes, until some -living being had the courage to exercise retaliation on me, by doing to -me what I have done by others during my life. - -“Count Hartmann formerly resided in this castle; he was a man who -recognised no law nor superior; was of an arrogant and overbearing -disposition; committed every species of wickedness, and violated the most -sacred rights of hospitality; he played all sorts of malicious tricks to -strangers who sought refuge under his roof, and to the poor who solicited -his charity. I was his barber, and did every thing to please him. No -sooner did I perceive a pious pilgrim, than in an endearing tone I urged -him to come into the castle, and prepared a bath for him; and while he -was enjoying the idea of being taken care of, I shaved his beard and head -quite close, and then turned him out of the bye door with raillery and -ridicule. All this was seen by Count Hartmann from his window with a -sort of devilish pleasure, while the children would assemble round the -abused stranger and pursue him with cries of derision. - -“One day there came a holy man from a far distant country: he wore a -plenipotentiary cross at his back, and his devotion had imprinted scars -on his feet, hands, and sides; his head was shaved, excepting a circle of -hair, left to resemble the crown of thorns worn by our Saviour. He asked -for some water to wash his feet as he passed by, and some bread to eat. -I instantly put him into the bath; but did not respect even his venerable -head. Upon which the pilgrim pronounced this terrible curse on -me.—‘Depraved wretch,’ said he, ‘know that at your death, the formidable -gates of heaven, of hell, and of purgatory, will alike be closed against -your sinful soul, which shall wander through this castle, in the form of -a ghost, until some man, without being invited or constrained, shall do -to you, what you have so long done to others.’ - -“From that moment the marrow in my bones dried up, and I became a perfect -shadow; my soul quitted my emaciated body, which remained wandering -within these walls, according to the prediction of the holy man. In vain -did I look and hope for release from the painful ties which held me to -earth; for know that no sooner is the soul separated from the body, than -it aspires to the blissful regions of peace, and the ardour of its wishes -causes years to appear as long as centuries, while it languishes in a -strange element. As a punishment, I was compelled to continue the trade -I had exercised during my life; but, alas! my nocturnal appearance soon -rendered this castle deserted. Now and then a poor pilgrim entered to -pass the night here: when they did, however, I treated them all as I have -done you; but not one has understood me, or rendered me the only service -which would deliver my soul from this sad servitude; henceforth, no -spirit will haunt this castle, for I shall now enjoy that repose of which -I have been so long in search. Once again let me thank you, gallant -youth; and believe, that had I power over the hidden treasures of the -globe, I would give them all to you, but unfortunately, during my life -riches did not fall to my lot, and this castle contains no store; -however, listen to the advice I am about to give you. - -“Remain here till your hair is grown again; then return to your own -country; and at that period of the year when the days and nights are of -equal length, go on the bridge which crosses the Weser, and there remain -till a friend, whom you shall there meet, shall tell you what you ought -to do to get possession of terrestrial wealth. When you are rolling in -riches and prosperity, remember me; and on every anniversary of the day -on which you released me from the heavy maledictions which overwhelmed -me, cause a mass to be said for the repose of my soul. Adieu! I must -now leave you.” - -Thus saying, the phantom vanished, and left his liberator perfectly -astonished at the strange history he had just related. For a -considerable time Francis remained immoveable, and reasoned within -himself as to the reality of what he had seen; for he could not help -fancying still that it was only a dream; but his closely shaved head soon -convinced him that the event had actually taken place. He got into bed -again, and slept soundly until mid-day. - -The malicious inn-keeper had been on the watch from the dawn of day for -the appearance of the traveller, in order that he might enjoy a laugh at -his expense, and express his surprise at the night’s adventure. But -after waiting till his patience was nearly exhausted, and finding it -approached to noon, he began to apprehend that the spirit had either -strangled the stranger, or that he had died of fright. He therefore -called his servants together, and ran with them to the castle, passing -through every room till they reached the one in which he had observed the -light the over-night; there he found a strange key in the door, which was -still bolted; for Francis had drawn the bolts after the ghost had -vanished. The landlord, who was all anxiety, knocked loudly; and Francis -on waking, at first thought that it was the phantom come to pay him -another visit; but at length recognising the landlord’s voice, he got up -and opened the door. - -The landlord, affecting the utmost possible astonishment, clasped his -hands, and exclaimed, “Great God and all the saints! then the red cloak -has actually been here and shaved you completely? I now see that the -story is but too well founded. But pray relate to me all the -particulars; tell me what the spirit was like; how he came thus to shave -you; and what he said to you?” - -Francis, having sense enough to discover his roguery, answered him by -saying: “The spirit resembled a man wearing a red cloak; you know full -well how he performed the operation; and his conversation I perfectly -remember;—listen attentively:—‘Stranger,’ said he to me, ‘do not trust to -a certain inn-keeper, who has a figure of malice for his sign; the rogue -well knew what would happen to you.—Adieu! I now quit this abode, as my -time is come; and in future no spirit will make its appearance here. I -am now to be transformed into a night-mare, and shall constantly torment -and haunt this said inn-keeper, unless he does penance for his villainy, -by lodging, feeding, and furnishing you with every thing needful, till -your hair shall grow again, and fall in ringlets over your shoulders.” - -At these words, the landlord was seized with a violent trembling: he -crossed himself and vowed to the Virgin Mary, that he would take care of -the young stranger, lodge him, and give him every thing he required free -of cost. He then conducted him to his house, and faithfully fulfilled -what he promised. - -The spirit being no longer heard or seen, Francis was naturally looked on -as a conjurer. He several times passed a night in the castle; and one -evening a courageous villager accompanied him, and returned without -having lost his hair. The lord of the castle, hearing that the -formidable Red Cloak was no longer to be seen, was quite delighted; and -gave orders that the stranger who had delivered him from this spirit -should be well taken care of. - -Early in the month of September, Francis’s hair began to form into -ringlets, and he prepared to depart; for all his thoughts were directed -towards the bridge over the Weser, where he hoped, according to the -barber’s predictions, to find the friend who would point out to him the -way to make his fortune. - -When Francis took leave of the landlord, the latter presented him with a -handsome horse well appointed, and loaded with a large cloak-bag on the -back of the saddle, and gave him at the same time a sufficient sum of -money to complete his journey. This was a present from the lord of the -castle, expressive of his thanks for having his castle again rendered -habitable. - -Francis arrived at his native place in high spirits. He returned to his -lodging in the little street, where he lived very retired, contenting -himself for the present with secret information respecting Meta. All the -tidings he thus gained were of a satisfactory nature; but he would -neither visit her, nor make her acquainted with his return, till his fate -was decided. - -He waited with the utmost impatience for the equinox; till which, time -seemed immeasurably long. The night preceding the eventful day, he could -not close his eyes to sleep; and that he might be sure of not missing the -friend with whom he was as yet unacquainted, he took his station ere -sun-rise on the bridge, where no human being but himself was to be -discovered. Replete with hopes of future good fortune, he formed a -thousand projects in what way he should spend his money. - -Already had he during the space of an hour, traversed the bridge alone, -giving full scope to his imagination; when on a sudden the bridge -presented a moving scene, and amongst others, many beggars took their -several stations on it, to levy contributions on the passengers. The -first of this tribe who asked charity of Francis was a poor vagabond with -a wooden leg, who, being a pretty good physiognomist, judged from the gay -and contented air of the young man, that his request would be crowned -with success; and his conjecture was not erroneous, for he threw a -demi-florin into his hat. - -Francis, meanwhile, feeling persuaded that the friend he expected must -belong to the highest class of society, felt no surprise at not seeing -him at so early an hour, and waited therefore with patience. But as the -hour for visiting the Exchange and Courts of Justice drew near, his eyes -were in constant motion. He discovered at an immense distance every -well-dressed person who came on the bridge, and his blood was in a -perfect ferment as each approached him, for in some one of them did he -hope to discover the author of his good fortune; but in vain he looked -people in the face, no one paid attention to him. The beggars, who at -noon were seated on the ground eating their dinner, remarking that the -young man they had seen from the first of the morning, was the only -person remaining with them on the bridge, and that he had not spoken to -any one, or appeared to have any employment, took him for a lazy -vagabond; and although they had received marks of his beneficence, they -began to make game of him, and in derision called him the provost of the -bridge. The physiognomist with the wooden leg observed, that his air was -no longer so gay as in the morning, and that having drawn his hat over -his face, he appeared entirely lost in thought, for he walked slowly -along, nibbling an apple, with an abstracted air. The observer, -resolving to benefit by what he had remarked, went to the further -extremity of the bridge, and after well examining the visionary, came up -to him as a stranger, asked his charity, and succeeded to his utmost -wish; for Francis, without turning round his head, gave him another -demi-florin. - -In the afternoon, a crowd of new faces presented themselves to Francis’s -observation, while he became quite weary at his friend’s tardiness; but -hope still kept up his attention. However, the fast declining sun gave -notice of the approach of night, and yet scarcely any of the passers-by -had noticed Francis. Some few, perhaps, had returned his salutation, but -not one had, as he expected and hoped, embraced him. At length, the day -so visibly declined, that the bridge became nearly deserted; for even the -beggars went away. A profound melancholy seized the heart of poor -Francis, when he found his hopes thus deceived; and giving way to -despair, he would have precipitated himself into the Weser, had not the -recollection of Meta deterred him. He felt anxious, ere he terminated -his days in so tragical a manner, to see her once again as she went to -mass, and feast on the contemplation of her features. - -He was preparing to quit the bridge, when the beggar with the wooden leg -accosted him, for he had in vain puzzled his brain to discover what could -possibly have caused the young man to remain on the bridge from morning -till night. The poor cripple had waited longer than usual on account of -Francis, in order to see when he went; but as he remained longer than he -wished, curiosity at length induced him openly to address him, in order -to learn what he so ardently desired to know. - -“Pray excuse me, worthy sir,” said he: “and permit me to ask you a -question.” - -Francis, who was by no means in a mood to talk, and who now heard from -the mouth of a beggar the words which he had so anxiously expected from a -friend, answered him in rather an angry tone: “Well then, what is it you -want to know, old man?” - -“Sir, you and I were the first persons on this bridge to-day; and here we -are still the only remaining two. As for me and my companions, it is -pretty clear that we only came to ask alms; but it is equally evident you -do not belong to our profession, and yet you have not quitted the bridge -the whole day. My dear sir, for the love of God, if it is no secret, -tell me, I entreat you, for what purpose you came, and what is the grief -that rends your heart?” - -“What can it concern you, old dotard, to know where the shoe pinches me, -or what afflictions I am labouring under?” - -“My good sir, I wish you well: you have twice bestowed your charity on -me, which I hope the Almighty will return to you with interest. I could -not but observe, however, this evening your countenance no longer looked -gay and happy as in the morning; and, believe me, I was sorry to see the -change.” - -The unaffected interest evinced by the old man pleased Francis. “Well,” -replied he, “since you attach so much importance to the knowledge of the -reason I have for remaining the whole day here plaguing myself, I will -inform you that I came here in search of a friend who appointed to meet -me on this bridge, but whom I have expected in vain.” - -“With your permission I should say your friend was a rogue, to play the -fool with you in this manner. If he had so served me, I should make him -feel the weight of my crutch whenever I met him; for if he has been -prevented from keeping his word by any unseen obstacle, he ought at least -to have sent to you, and not have kept you here on your feet a whole -day.” - -“And yet I have no reason to complain of his not coming, for he promised -me nothing. In fact it was only a dream that I was told I should meet a -friend here.” - -Francis spoke of it as a dream, because the history of the ghost was too -long to relate. - -“That alters the case,” replied the old man. “Since you rest your hopes -on dreams, I am not astonished at your being deceived. I have also had -many dreams in my life; but I was never fool enough to pay attention to -them. If I had all the treasures that have been promised me in dreams, I -could purchase the whole city of Bremen; but I have never put faith in -dreams, and have not taken a single step to prove whether they were true -or false; for I know full well, it would be useless trouble; and I am -astonished that you should have lost so fine a day, which you might have -employed so much more usefully, merely on the strength of a dream, which -appears to me so wholly devoid of sense or meaning.” - -“The event proves the justness of your remark, old father; and that -dreams generally are deceitful. But it is rather more than three months -since I had a very circumstantial dream relative to my meeting a friend -on this particular day, here on this bridge; and it was so clearly -indicated that he should communicate things of the utmost importance, -that I thought it worth while to ascertain whether this dream had any -foundation in truth.” - -“Ah, sir, no one has had clearer dreams than myself; and one of them I -shall never forget. I dreamt, several years since, that my good angel -stood at the foot of my bed, in the form of a young man, and addressed me -as follows:—‘Berthold, listen attentively to my words, and do not lose -any part of what I am about to say. A treasure is allotted to you; go -and secure it, that you may be enabled to live happily the rest of your -days. To-morrow evening, when the sun is setting, take a pick-axe and -spade over your shoulder, and go out of the city by the gate leading to -Hamburgh; when you arrive facing the convent of St. Nicholas, you will -see a garden, the entrance to which is ornamented by two pillars; conceal -yourself behind one of these until the moon rises; then push the door -hard, and it will yield to your efforts; go without fear into the garden, -follow a walk covered by a treillage of vines, and to the left you will -see a great apple-tree; place yourself at the foot of the tree, with your -face turned towards the moon, and you will perceive at fifteen feet -distance, two bushy rose-trees; search between these two shrubs, and at -the depth of about six feet you will discover a great flag-stone, which -covers the treasure enclosed within an iron chest; and although it is -heavy and difficult to handle, do not regret the labour it will occasion -you to remove it from the hole where it now is. You will be well -rewarded for your pains and trouble, if you look for the key which is -under the box.’” - -Francis remained like one stupified at this recital; and certainly would -have been unable to conceal his astonishment, if the darkness of the -night had not favoured him. The various particulars pointed out by the -beggar brought to his recollection a little garden which he had inherited -from his father, and which garden was the favourite spot of that good -man; but possibly for that very reason it was not held in estimation by -the son. Melchior had caused it to be laid out according to his own -taste, and his son in the height of his extravagance had sold it at a -very low price. - -The beggar with his wooden leg was become a very interesting personage to -Francis, who perceived that he was the friend alluded to by the ghost in -the castle of Rummelsbourg. The first impulse of joy would have led him -to embrace the mendicant; but he restrained his feelings, thinking it -best not to communicate the result of his intelligence to him. - -“Well, my good man,” said he, “what did you when you awoke? did you not -attend to the advice given by your good angel!” - -“Why should I undertake a hopeless labour? It was only a vague dream; -and if my good angel was anxious to appear to me, he might choose a night -when I am not sleeping, which occurs but too frequently; but he has not -troubled his head much about me; for if he had, I should not have been -reduced, as I am now, to his shame, to beg my bread.” - -Francis took from his pocket another piece of money, and gave it to the -old man, saying, “Take this to procure half a pint of wine, and drink it -ere you retire to rest. Your conversation has dispelled my sorrowful -thoughts; do not fail to come regularly to this bridge, where I hope we -shall meet again.” - -The old lame man, not having for a long while made so good a day’s work, -overwhelmed Francis with his grateful benedictions. They separated, and -each went his way. Francis, whose joy was at its height from the near -prospect of his hopes being realised, very speedily reached his lodging -in the bye street. - -The following day he ran to the purchaser of the little garden, and -proposed to re-purchase it. The latter, to whom this property was of no -particular value, and who, indeed, began to be tired of it, willingly -consented to part with it. They very soon agreed as to the conditions of -the purchase, and went immediately to sign the contract: with the money -he had found in his bag, as a gift from the lord of Rummelsbourg, Francis -paid down half the price: he then procured the necessary tools for -digging a hole in the earth, conveyed them to the garden, waited till the -moon was up, strictly adhered to the instructions given him by the old -beggar, set to work, and without any unlucky adventure he obtained the -hidden treasure. - -His father, as a precaution against necessity, had buried this money, -without any intention to deprive his son of this considerable portion of -his inheritance; but dying suddenly, he had carried the secret to his -grave, and nothing but a happy combination of circumstances, could have -restored this lost treasure to its rightful owner. - -The chest, filled with gold pieces, was too heavy for Francis to remove -to his lodging without employing some person to assist him; and feeling -unwilling to become a topic of general conversation, he preferred -concealing it in the summer-house belonging to the garden, and fetching -it at several times. On the third day the whole was safely conveyed to -his lodging in the back street. - -Francis dressed himself in the best possible style, and went to church to -request that the priest would substitute for the prayers which had been -previously offered up, a thanksgiving for the safe return of a traveller -to his native country, after having happily terminated his business. He -concealed himself in a corner, where, unseen, he could observe Meta. The -sight of her gave him inexpressible delight, especially when he saw the -beautiful blush which overspread her cheeks, and the brilliancy of her -eyes, when the priest offered up the thanksgiving. A secret meeting took -place, as had been formerly arranged: and so much was Meta affected by -it, that any indifferent person might have divined the cause. Francis -repaired to the Exchange, set up again in business, and in a very short -time had enough to do; his fortune each succeeding day becoming better -known, his neighbours judged that he had had greater luck than sense in -his journey to collect his father’s debts. He hired a large house in the -best part of the town, engaged clerks, and continued his business with -laudable and indefatigable assiduity: he conducted himself with the -utmost propriety and sagacity, and abstained from the foolish -extravagances which had formerly been his ruin. - -The re-establishment of Francis’s fortune formed the general topic of -conversation. Every one was astonished at the success of his foreign -voyage: but in proportion to the spreading fame of his riches, did Meta’s -tranquillity and happiness diminish; for it appeared that the silent -lover was now in a condition to declare himself, and yet he remained -dumb, and only manifested his love by the usual rencontre on coming out -of church; and even this species of rendezvous became less frequent, -which appeared to evince a diminution of his affection. - -Poor Meta’s heart was now torn by jealousy; for she imagined that the -inconstant Francis was offering up his vows to some other beauty. She -had experienced secret transports of delight on learning the change of -fortune of the man she loved, not from interested motives and the wish to -participate in his better fortune herself, but from affection to her -mother, who, since the failure of the match with the rich brewer, -absolutely seemed to despair of every enjoying happiness or comfort in -this world. When she thought Francis faithless, she wished that the -prayers put up for him in the church had not been heard, and that his -journey had not been attended with such success; for had he been reduced -to means merely sufficient to procure the necessaries of life, in all -probability he would have shared them with her. - -Mother Bridget failed not to perceive her daughter’s uneasiness, and -easily guessed the cause; for she had heard of her old neighbour’s -surprising return, and she knew he was now considered an industrious, -intelligent merchant: therefore she thought if his love for her daughter -was what it ought to be, he would not be thus tardy in declaring it; for -she well knew Meta’s sentiments towards him. However, feeling anxious to -avoid the probability of wounding her daughter’s feelings, she avoided -mentioning the subject to her; but the latter, no longer able to confine -her grief to her own bosom, disclosed it to her mother, and confided the -whole to her. - -Mother Bridget did not reproach her daughter for her past conduct, but -employed all her eloquence to console her, and entreat her to bear up -with courage under the loss of all her hopes. “You must resign him,” -said she: “you scorned at the happiness which presented itself to your -acceptance, therefore you must now endeavour to be resigned at its -departure. Experience has taught me that those hopes which appear to be -the best founded are frequently the most delusive; follow my example, and -never again deliver up your heart. Do not reckon on any amelioration of -your condition, and you will be contented with your lot. Honour this -spinning-wheel, which produces the means of your subsistence, and then -fortune and riches will be immaterial to you: you may do without them.” - -Thus saying, mother Bridget turned the wheel round with redoubled -velocity, in order to make up for the time lost in conversation. She -spoke nothing but the truth to her daughter; for, since the opportunity -was gone by when she hoped it was possible to have regained her lost -comforts, she had in such a manner simplified her present wants and -projects of future life, that it was not in the power of destiny to -produce any considerable derangement in them. But as yet Meta was not so -great a philosopher; so that her mother’s exhortations, consolations, and -doctrines, produced a precisely different effect on her from what they -were intended. Meta looked on herself as the destroyer of the flattering -hopes her mother had entertained. Although she did not formally accept -the offer of marriage proposed to her, and even then could not have -reckoned on possessing beyond the common necessaries of life; yet, since -she had heard the tidings of the great fortune obtained by the man of her -heart, her views had become enlarged, and she anticipated with pleasure -that by her choice she might realise her mother’s wishes. - -Now, however, this golden dream had vanished: Francis would not come -again; and, indeed, they even began to talk of an alliance about to take -place between him and a very rich young lady of Anvers. The news was a -death-blow to poor Meta: she vowed she would banish him from her -thoughts; but still she shed very many tears. - -Contrary, however, to her vow, she was one day thinking of the faithless -one; for whenever she filled her spinning-wheel, she thought of the -following distich, which her mother had frequently repeated to her to -encourage her in her work.— - - “Spin the thread well, spin, spin it more, - For see your intended is now at the door.” - -Some one did in reality knock gently at the door: and mother Bridget went -to see who it was. Francis entered, attired as for the celebration of a -wedding. Surprise for a while suspended mother Bridget’s faculties of -speech. Meta blushed deeply, and trembling, arose from her seat, but was -equally unable with her mother to say a word. Francis was the only one -of the three who could speak; and he candidly declared his love, and -demanded of Bridget the hand of her daughter. The good mother ever -attentive to forms, asked eight days to consider the matter, although the -tears of joy which she shed, plainly evinced her ready and prompt -acquiescence; but Francis, all impatience, would hear of no delay: -finding which, she, conformable to her duty as a mother, willing to -satisfy Francis’s ardour, adopted a midway, and left the decision to her -daughter. The latter, obeying the dictates of her own heart, placed -herself by the side of the object of her tenderest affection; and -Francis, transported with joy, thanked her with a kiss. - -The two lovers then entertained themselves with talking over the delights -of the time when they so well communicated their sentiments by signs. -Francis had great difficulty in tearing himself away from Meta, and such -“converse sweet,” but he had an important duty to fulfil. - -He directed his steps towards the bridge over the Weser, where he hoped -to find his old friend with the wooden leg, whom he had by no means -forgotten, although he had delayed making the promised visit. The latter -instantly recognised Francis; and no sooner saw him at the foot of the -bridge, than he came to meet him, and showed evident marks of pleasure at -the sight of him. “Can you, my friend,” said Francis to him, after -returning his salutation, “come with me into the new town and execute a -commission? you will be well rewarded for your trouble.” - -“Why not?—with my wooden leg I walk about just as well as other people; -and, indeed, have an advantage over them, for it is never fatigued. I -beg you, however, my good sir, to have the kindness to wait till the man -with the grey greatcoat arrives.” - -“What has this man with the grey great-coat to do with you?” - -“He every day comes as evening approaches and gives me a demi-florin; I -know not from whom. It is not, indeed, always proper to learn all -things; so I do not breathe a word. I am sometimes tempted to believe, -that it is the devil who is anxious to buy my soul; but it matters -little, I have not consented to the bargain, therefore it cannot be -valid.” - -“I verily believe that grey surtout has some malice in his head: so -follow me; and you shall have a quarter-florin over and above the -bargain.” - -Francis conducted the old man to a distant corner, near the ramparts of -the city, stopped before a newly-built house, and knocked at the door. -As soon as the door was opened, he thus addressed the old beggar:—“You -have procured a very agreeable evening for me in the course of my life; -it is but just, therefore, that I should shed some comfort and joy over -your declining days. This house and every thing appertaining thereto -belongs to you. The kitchen and cellar are both well stocked; there is a -person to take care of you, and every day at dinner you will find a -quarter-florin under your plate. It is now time for you to know that the -man in the grey surtout is my servant, whom I every day sent with my alms -till this house was ready to receive you. You may, if you please, -consider me as your guardian angel, since your good angel did not acquit -himself uprightly in return for your gratitude.” - -Saying this, he made the old man go into the house, where the latter -found every thing he could possibly desire or want. The table was -spread; and the old man was so much astonished at his unexpected good -fortune, that he thought it must be a dream; for he could in no way -imagine why a rich man should feel so much interest for a miserable -beggar. Francis having again assured him that every thing he saw was his -own, a torrent of tears expressed his thanks; and before he could -sufficiently recover to express his gratitude by words, Francis had -vanished. - -The following day, mother Bridget’s house was filled with merchants and -shopkeepers of all descriptions, whom Francis had sent to Meta, in order -that she might purchase and get ready every thing she required for her -appearance in the world with suitable éclat. Three weeks afterwards he -conducted her to the altar. The splendour of the wedding far exceeded -that of the King of Hops. Mother Bridget enjoyed the satisfaction of -adorning her daughter’s forehead with the nuptial crown, and thereby -obtained the accomplishment of all her desires, and was recompensed for -her virtuous and active life. She witnessed her daughter’s happiness -with delight, and proved the very best of grandmothers to her daughter’s -children. - - - - -THE SLEEPING FRIAR; -OR, -THE STONE OF FATHER CUDDY. - - -ABOVE all the islands in the Lakes of Killarney, give me -Innisfallen—“sweet Innisfallen,” as the melodious Moore calls it. It is -in truth a fairy isle, although I have no fairy story to tell you about -it; and if I had these are such unbelieving times, and people of late -have grown so sceptical, that they only smile at my stones and doubt -them. - -However none will doubt that a monastery stood once upon Innisfallen -Island, for its ruins may still be seen; neither, that within its walls -dwelt certain pious and learned persons called monks. A very pleasant -set of fellows they were, I make not the least doubt; and I am sure of -this, that they had a very pleasant spot to enjoy themselves in after -dinner:—the proper time, believe me, and I am no bad judge of such -matters, for the enjoyment of a fine prospect. - -Out of all the monks you could not pick a better fellow nor a merrier -soul than Father Cuddy;—he sang a good song, he told a good story, and -had a jolly, comfortable-looking paunch of his own that was a credit to -any refectory table. He was distinguished by the name of “the fat -Father.” Now there are many that will take huff at a name: but Father -Cuddy had no nonsense of that kind about him; he laughed at it, and well -able he was to laugh, for his mouth nearly reached from one ear to the -other,—his might in truth be called an open countenance. As his paunch -was no disgrace to his food, neither was his nose to his drink. ’Tis a -question to me if there were not more carbuncles upon it than ever were -seen at the bottom of the lake, which is said to be full of them. His -eyes had a right merry twinkle in them, like moonshine dancing on the -water, and his cheeks had the roundness and crimson glow of ripe arbutus -berries. - - He ate, and drank, and prayed, and slept,—what then? - He ate, and drank, and prayed, and slept again! - -Such was the tenor of his simple life; but when he prayed a certain -drowsiness would come upon him, which it must be confessed never occurred -when a well filled ‘black-jack’ stood before him. Hence his prayers were -short, and his draughts were long. The world loved him, and he saw no -reason why he should not in return love its venison and its usquebaugh. -But, as times went, he must have been a pious man, or else what befell -him never would have happened. - -Spiritual affairs—for it was respecting the importation of a tun of wine -into the inland monastery—demanded the presence of one of the brotherhood -of Innisfallen at the abbey of Irelagh, now called Muckruss. The -superintendence of this important matter was confided to Father Cuddy, -who felt too deeply interested in the future welfare of any community of -which he was a member to neglect or delay such a mission. With the -morning’s light he was seen guiding his shallop across the crimson waters -of the lake towards the peninsula of Muckruss, and having moored his -little bark in safety beneath the shelter of a wave-worn rock, he -advanced with becoming dignity towards the abbey. - -The stillness of the bright and balmy hour was broken by the heavy -footsteps of the zealous father:—at the sound the startled deer, shaking -the dew from their sides, sprang up from their lair, and as they bounded -off—“Hah,” exclaimed Cuddy, “what a noble haunch goes there!—how -delicious it would look smoking upon a goodly platter.” - -As he proceeded, the mountain bee hummed his tune of gladness around the -holy man, save when buried in the foxglove bell, or revelling upon a -fragrant bunch of thyme,—and even then, the little voice murmured out -happiness in low and broken tones of voluptuous delight. Father Cuddy -derived no small comfort at the sound, for it presaged a good metheglin -season; and metheglin he considered no bad liquor, particularly when -there was no stint of usquebaugh in the brewing. - -Arrived within the abbey gate, he was received with due respect by the -brethren of Irelagh, and arrangements for the embarkation of the wine -were completed to his entire satisfaction.—“Welcome, Father Cuddy!” said -the prior, “grace be on you.” - -“Grace before meat then,” said Cuddy, “for a long walk always makes me -hungry, and I am certain I have not walked less than half a mile this -morning, to say nothing of crossing the water.” - -A pasty of choice flavour felt the truth of this assertion as regarded -Father Cuddy’s appetite. After such consoling repast, it would have been -a reflection on monastic hospitality to have departed without partaking -of the grace-cup:—moreover Father Cuddy had a particular respect for the -antiquity of that custom. He liked the taste of the grace-cup well;—he -tried another,—it was no less excellent; and when he had swallowed the -third he found his heart expand, and put forth its fibres, as willing to -embrace all mankind!—Surely then there is christian love and charity in -wine! - -I said he sung a good song. Now though psalms are good songs, and in -accordance with his vocation, I did not mean to imply that he was a mere -psalm-singer. It was well known to the brethren, that wherever Father -Cuddy was, mirth and melody were with him. Mirth in his eye, and melody -on his tongue; and these, from experience, are equally well known to be -thirsty commodities; but he took good care never to let them run dry. To -please the brotherhood, whose excellent wine pleased him, he sung, and as -“in vino veritas,” his song will well become this veritable history, I -give it. - - O ’tis eggs are a treat - When so white and so sweet - From under the manger they’re taken: - And by fair Margery, - Och! ’tis she’s full of glee, - They are fried with fat rashers of bacon. - - Just like daisies all spread - O’er a broad sunny mead - In the sun-beams so beauteously shining, - Are fried eggs well displayed - On a dish, when we’ve laid - The cloth, and are thinking of dining. - -Such was his song. Father Cuddy smacked his lips at the recollection of -Margery’s delicious fried eggs, which always imparted a peculiar relish -to his liquor. The very idea caused Cuddy to raise the cup to his mouth, -and, with one hearty pull thereat, he finished its contents. - -This is, and ever was, a censorious world, often construing what is only -a fair allowance into an excess;—but I scorn to reckon on any man’s drink -like an unrelenting host; therefore I cannot tell how many brimming -draughts of wine, bedecked with the venerable Bead, Father Cuddy emptied -into his “soul-case,”—so he figuratively termed the body. - -His respects for the goodly company of the monks of Irelagh detained him -until their adjournment to vespers, when he set forward on his return to -Innisfallen. Whether his mind was occupied in philosophic contemplation -or wrapped in pious musings, I cannot declare; but the honest Father -wandered on in a different direction from that in which his shallop lay. -Far be it from me to insinuate that the good liquor, which he had so -commended, had caused him to forget his road, or that his track was -irregular and unsteady. Oh no! he carried his drink bravely, as became a -decent man and a good christian; yet somehow, he thought he could -distinguish two moons. “Bless my eyes,” said Father Cuddy, “everything -is changed now-a-days!—the very stars are not in the same places they -used to be;—I think Camcéachta (the plough) is driving on at a rate I -never saw it before to-night, but suppose the driver is drunk, for there -are blackguards everywhere.” - -Cuddy had scarcely uttered these words, when he saw, or fancied he saw, -the form of a young woman; who, holding up a bottle, beckoned him towards -her. The night was extremely beautiful, and the white dress of the girl -floated gracefully in the moonlight, as with gay step she tripped on -before the worthy Father, archly looking back upon him over her shoulder. -“Ah, Margery,—merry Margery!” cried Cuddy, “you tempting little -rogue—‘_Et a Margery bella_—_Quæ festiva puella_.’—I see you—I see you -and the bottle!—let me but catch you, Margery _bella_.” And on he -followed, panting and smiling, after this alluring apparition. - -At length his feet grew weary, and his breath failed, which obliged him -to give up the chase; yet such was his piety, that unwilling to rest in -any attitude but that of prayer, down dropped Father Cuddy on his knees. -Sleep as usual stole upon his devotions, and the morning was far advanced -when he awoke from dreams, in which tables groaned beneath their load of -viands, and wine poured itself free and sparkling as the mountain spring. - -Rubbing his eyes, he looked about him, and the more he looked the more he -wondered at the alterations which appeared in the face of the country. -“Bless my soul and body,” said the good Father, “I saw the stars changing -last night, but here is a change!” Doubting his senses he looked again. -The hills bore the same majestic outline as on the preceding day, and the -lake spread itself beneath his view in the same tranquil beauty, and was -studded with the same number of islands; but every smaller feature in the -landscape was strangely altered;—naked rocks were now clothed with holly -and arbutus. Whole woods had disappeared, and waste places had become -cultivated fields; and to complete the work of enchantment the very -season itself seemed changed. In the rosy dawn of a summer’s morning he -had left the monastery of Innisfallen, and he now felt in every sight and -sound the dreariness of winter; the hard ground was covered with withered -leaves;—icicles depended from leafless branches; he heard the sweet low -note of the robin who familiarly approached him, and he felt his fingers -numbed by the nipping frost. Father Cuddy found it rather difficult to -account for such sudden transformations, and to convince himself it was -not the illusion of a dream he was about to arise; when lo! he discovered -that both his knees were buried at least six inches in the solid stone: -for notwithstanding all these changes, he had never altered his devout -position. - -Cuddy was now wide awake, and felt, when he got up, his joints sadly -cramped, which it was only natural they should be, considering the hard -texture of the stone, and the depth his knees had sunk into it. The -great difficulty was, to explain how, in one night, summer had become -winter—whole woods had been cut down, and well-grown trees had sprouted -up. The miracle, nothing else could he conclude it to be, urged him to -hasten his return to Innisfallen, where he might learn some explanation -of these marvellous events. - -Seeing a boat moored within reach of the shore, he delayed not, in the -midst of such wonders, to seek his own bark, but, seizing the oars, -pulled stoutly towards the island; and here new wonders awaited him. - -Father Cuddy waddled, as fast as cramped limbs could carry his rotund -corporation, to the gate of the monastery, where he loudly demanded -admittance. - -“Holloa! whence come you, master monk, and what’s your business?” -demanded a stranger who occupied the porter’s place. - -“Business—my business!” repeated the confounded Cuddy, “why do you not -know me? Has the wine arrived safely?” - -“Hence, fellow,” said the porter’s representative, in a surly tone, “nor -think to impose on me with your monkish tales.” - -“Fellow!” exclaimed the Father, “mercy upon us that I should be so spoken -to at the gate of my own house!—Scoundrel!” cried Cuddy, raising his -voice, “do you see my garb—my holy garb?” - -“Ay, fellow,” replied he of the keys, “the garb of laziness and filthy -debauchery, which has long been expelled from out these walls. Know you -not, lazy knave, of the suppression of this nest of superstition, and -that the abbey lands and possessions were granted in August last to -Master Robert Collan, by our Lady Elizabeth, sovereign queen of England, -and paragon of all beauty, whom God preserve!” - -“Queen of England,” said Cuddy; “there never was a sovereign queen of -England;—this is but a piece with the rest. I saw how it was going with -the stars last night—the world’s turned upside down. But surely this is -Innisfallen Island, and I am the Father Cuddy who yesterday morning went -over to the Abbey of Irelagh respecting the tun of wine. Do you know me -now?” - -“Know you! how should I know you?” said the keeper of the abbey—“yet true -it is, that I have heard my grandmother, whose mother remembered the man, -often speak of the fat Father Cuddy of Innisfallen, who made a profane -and godless ballad in praise of fried eggs, of which he and his vile crew -knew more than they did of the word of God, and who, being drunk, it was -said, tumbled into the lake one night and was drowned; but that must have -been a hundred—ay, more than a hundred years since.” - -“’Twas I who composed that song, in praise of Margery’s fried eggs, which -is no profane and godless ballad. No other Father Cuddy than myself ever -belonged to Innisfallen,” earnestly exclaimed the holy man. “A hundred -years! What was your great grandmother’s name?” - -“She was a Mahony of Dunlow, Margaret ni Mahony; and my grandmother—” - -“What, merry Margery of Dunlow your great grandmother!” shouted Cuddy; -“St. Brandon help me! the wicked wench, with that tempting bottle—why -’twas only last night—a hundred years—your great grandmother said you? -Mercy on us, there has been a strange torpor over me, I must have slept -all this time!” - -That Father Cuddy had done so, I think is sufficiently proved by the -changes which occurred during his nap. A reformation, and a serious one -it was for him, had taken place. Eggs fried by the pretty Margery were -no longer to be had in Innisfallen, and, with heart as heavy as his -footsteps, the worthy man directed his course towards Dingle, where he -embarked in a vessel on the point of sailing for Malaga. The rich wine -of that place had of old impressed him with a high respect for its -monastic establishments, in one of which he quietly wore out the remnant -of his days. - -The stone impressed with the mark of Father Cuddy’s knees may be seen to -this day. Should any incredulous persons doubt my story, I request them -to go to Killarney, where Clough na Cuddy—so is the stone called, remains -in Lord Kenmare’s park, an indubitable evidence of the fact: and -Spillane, the bugle man, will be able to point it out to them, as he did -to me. - - * * * * * - - THE END. - - * * * * * - - * * * * * - - MILNER AND SOWERBY, PRINTERS, HALIFAX. - - - - -FOOTNOTE. - - -{64} An open field, in which, to satisfy the doubts of the nobles, the -Emperor Frederic II., her son, was born. - - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE WILD AND THE WONDERFUL -[1867]*** - - -******* This file should be named 66106-0.txt or 66106-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/6/1/0/66106 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Tales of the Wild and the Wonderful [1867] - - -Author: Mary Diana Dods - - - -Release Date: August 22, 2021 [eBook #66106] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE WILD AND THE -WONDERFUL [1867]*** -</pre> -<p>Transcribed from the 1867 Milner and Sowerby edition by David -Price. Many thanks to the Bodleian Library for making their -copy available.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/coverb.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Graphical title page" -title= -"Graphical title page" - src="images/covers.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<h1>TALES<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">OF THE</span><br /> -WILD AND THE WONDERFUL.</h1> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<blockquote><p>“Messer, dovete havete pigliate tante -coglionerie?” quoth the Reader.</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Cardinal -Ippolito d’Este to Ariosto</span>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center">LONDON:<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">MILNER AND SOWERBY</span>,<br /> -44, <span class="GutSmall">PATERNOSTER ROW,</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">AND HALIFAX, YORKSHIRE.</span></p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center">1867.</p> -<h2><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -v</span>PREFACE.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Pause</span> one moment, gentle -Reader—only one little moment will I detain you, while I -reply to the question which I have supposed you to ask in the -title-page. Blame not me, I beseech you, if you are -compelled to make the usual accusation against authors, that -there is nothing new in the pages which I diffidently present to -you: I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. Solomon -asserted that all things under the sun were aged in his time; and -if the wisest of old gentlemen could find nothing new in that -early stage of his empire, what can be expected from a poor -scribbler like me, near three thousand years after him? -Consider too, dear Reader, that this is the first time I have -appeared before you in the character of a story-teller; and that -I am a timid, nervous subject, and very easily discouraged. -Accept me then upon the score of wishing to amuse you, and permit -me to say something for my Tales, after having said so much for -myself.</p> -<p>Of the stories, “Der Freischütz,” as every -body knows, is from the German. “The Fortunes of De -la Pole” is original; so is “The Prediction,” -and “The Yellow Dwarf,” if I may be allowed that -claim for such a “thing of shreds and patches;” it is -an <i>olla podrida</i> of odds and ends, a snip of the garment of -every fairy tale written since the days of King Arthur. The -story of “The Lord of the Maelstrom” is also -original, though, as in that of “The Yellow Dwarf,” I -have raised my structure upon an old nursery foundation; but it -appeared to me an excellent vehicle for the beautiful mythology -of the North, and the introduction of Odin and his -exploits,—whose history, by the way, I believe, has been -extracted from the Talmud, or from the rabbinical traditions of -the events previous to the creation, and the deeds of Moses and -others. I, moreover, designed to have given <a -name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. vi</span>thee a little -poetry for thy money, gentle Reader, but the booksellers shook -their heads when I mentioned my design, and told me it was out of -fashion; so I returned my treasures in that way to my desk, there -to remain, among many other excellent things, I assure thee, -until it should again be the taste in England; and, with two -other short stories, in the meantime offer these Tales of -<i>diablerie</i> for your amusement. Entreat me kindly, -gentle Reader, I beseech you, for two reasons;—first, -because it will entirely depend upon your reception of this, -whether I shall ever write a second volume—and secondly, -because there has been a sad sweep lately among those who used to -cater for your diversion: many who were most deserving have been -snatched from your admiration and regard. “Shelley is -not—Lord Byron is not—and Maturin have they taken -away.” For myself, I am not a long-lived man, and -therefore advise you to make much of me while I am with you; and -as an example, look upon these “<i>coglionerie</i>” -with a milder eye than their merits may seem to deserve from your -judgment.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">I am, dear Reader, truly yours,</p> -<p style="text-align: right">THE AUTHOR.</p> -<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -vii</span>CONTENTS.</h2> -<table> -<tr> -<td></td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span -class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">The Prediction</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page9">9</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">The Yellow Dwarf</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page44">44</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">Der Freischutz</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page101">101</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">The Fortunes of De la Pole</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page130">130</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">The Lord of the Maelstrom</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page179">179</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">Notes to the Lord of the -Maelstrom</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page264">264</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">The Spectre Barber</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page267">267</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="smcap">The Sleeping Friar; or The Stone of -Father Cuddy</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page311">311</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<h2><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>THE -PREDICTION.</h2> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“Let’s talk -of Graves.”—<span -class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the south-west coast of the -principality of Wales stands a romantic little village, inhabited -chiefly by the poorer class of people, consisting of small -farmers and oyster dredgers, whose estates are the wide ocean, -and whose ploughs are the small craft, in which they glide over -its interminable fields in search of the treasures which they -wring from its bosom; it is built on the very top of a hill, -commanding on the one side an immense bay, and on the other, of -the peaceful green fields and valleys, cultivated by the greater -part of its quiet inhabitants. The approach to it from the -nearest town was by a road, which branched away into lanes and -wooded walks, and from the sea by a beautiful little bay, running -up far into the land; both sides of which and indeed all the rest -of the coast were guarded by craggy and gigantic rocks, some of -them hollowing into caverns, into which none of the inhabitants, -from motives of superstition, reverence, and fear, had ever dared -to penetrate. There were, at the period of which we are -about to treat, no better sort of inhabitants in the little -village just described, <a name="page10"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 10</span>none of those so emphatically -distinguished as “quality” by the country people; -they had neither parson, lawyer, nor doctor, among them, and of -course there was a tolerable equality among the residents. -The farmer, who followed his own plough in the spring, singing -the sweet wild national chaunt of the season, and bound up with -his own hands his sheaves in autumn, was not richer, greater, nor -finer, than he who, bare-legged on the strand, gathered in the -hoar weeds for the farmer in the spring, or dared the wild winds -of autumn and the wrath of the winter in his little boat, to earn -with his dredging net a yet harder subsistence for his -family. Distinctions were unknown in the village, every man -was the equal of his neighbour.</p> -<p>But, though rank and its polished distinctions were strange in -the village of N—, the superiority of talent was felt and -acknowledged almost without a pause or a murmur. There was -one who was as a king amongst them, by the mere force of a -mightier spirit than those with whom he sojourned had been -accustomed to feel among them: he was a dark and moody man, a -stranger, evidently of a higher order than those around him, who -had a few months before settled among them: he was poor, but had -no occupation—he lived frugally, but quite alone—and -his sole occupation was to read during the day, and wander out -unaccompanied into the fields or by the beach during the -night. Sometimes indeed he would relieve a suffering child -or rheumatic old man by medicinal herbs, reprove idleness and -drunkenness in the youth, and predict to all the good and evil -consequences of their conduct; and his success in some cases, his -foresight in others, and his wisdom in all, won for him a high -reputation among the cottagers, to which his taciturn habits -contributed not a little, for, with the vulgar as with <a -name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>the educated, -no talker was ever seriously taken for a conjuror, though a -silent man is often decided to be a wise one.</p> -<p>There was but one person in N— at all disposed to rebel -against the despotic sovereignty which Rhys Meredith was silently -establishing over the quiet village, and that was precisely the -person most likely to effect a revolution; she was a beautiful -maiden, the glory and boast of the village, who had been the -favourite of, and to a certain degree educated by, the late lady -of the lord of the manor; but she had died, and her pupil, with a -full consciousness of her intellectual superiority, had returned -to her native village, where she determined to have an empire of -her own, which no rival should dispute: she laughed at the -maidens who listened to the predictions of Rhys, and she refused -her smiles to the youths who consulted him upon their affairs and -their prospects; and as the beautiful Ruth was generally beloved, -the silent Rhys was soon in danger of being abandoned by all, -save doting men and paralytic women, and feeling himself an -outcast in the village of N—.</p> -<p>But to be such was not the object of Meredith; he was an idle -man, and the gifts of the villagers contributed to spare him from -exertion; he knew too, that in another point of view his -ascendancy was necessary to his purposes; and as he had failed to -establish it by wisdom and benevolence, he determined to try the -effect of fear. The character of the people with whom he -sojourned was admirably calculated to assist his projects; his -predictions were now uttered more clearly, and his threats -denounced in sterner tones and stronger and plainer words; and -when he predicted that old Morgan Williams, who had been stricken -with the palsy, would die at the turn of tide, three days from -that on which he <a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -12</span>spoke, and that the light little boat of gay Griffy -Morris, which sailed from the bay in a bright winter’s -morning, should never again make the shore; and the man died, and -the storm arose, even as he had said; men’s hearts died -within them, and they bowed down before his words, as if he had -been their general fate and the individual destiny of each.</p> -<p>Ruth’s rosy lip grew pale for a moment as she heard of -these things; in the next her spirit returned, and “I will -make him tell my fortune,” she said, as she went with a -party of laughers to search out and deride the conjuror. He -was alone when they broke in upon him, and their mockeries goaded -his spirit; but his anger was deep, not loud; and while burning -with wrath, he yet could calmly consider the means of vengeance: -he knew the master spirit with which he had to contend; it was no -ordinary mind, and would have smiled at ordinary terrors. -To have threatened her with sickness, misfortune, or death, would -have been to call forth the energies of that lofty spirit, and -prepare it to endure, and it would have gloried in manifesting -its powers of endurance; he must humble it therefore by -debasement; he must ruin its confidence in itself; and to this -end he resolved to threaten her with crime. His resolution -was taken and effected; his credit was at stake; he must daunt -his enemy, or surrender to her power: he foretold sorrows and -joys to the listening throng, not according to his passion, but -his judgment, and he drew a blush upon the cheek of one, by -revealing a secret which Ruth herself, and another, alone knew, -and which prepared the former to doubt of her own judgment, as it -related to this extraordinary man.</p> -<p>Ruth was the last who approached to hear the secret of her -destiny. The wizard paused as he <a name="page13"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 13</span>looked upon her,—opened his -book,—shut it,—paused,—and again looked sadly -and fearfully upon her; she tried to smile, but felt startled, -she knew not why; the bright inquiring glance of her dark eye -could not change her enemy. Her smile could not melt, nor -even temper, the hardness of his deep-seated malice: he again -looked sternly upon her brow, and then coldly wrung out the slow -soul-withering words, “Maiden, thou art doomed to be a -murderer!”</p> -<p>From that hour Rhys Meredith became the destiny of Ruth -Tudor. At first she spurned at his prediction, and -alternately cursed and laughed at him for the malice of his -falsehood: but when she found that none laughed with her, that -men looked upon her with suspicious eyes, women shrunk from her -society, and children shrieked at her presence, she felt that -these were signs of truth, and her high spirit no longer -struggled against the conviction; a change came over her mind -when she had known how horrid it was to be alone. Abhorring -the prophet, she yet clung to his footsteps, and while she sat by -his side, felt as if he alone could avert that evil destiny which -he alone had foreseen. With him only was she seen to smile; -elsewhere, sad, silent, stern; it seemed as if she were ever -occupied in nerving her mind for that which she had to do, and -her beauty, already of the majestic cast, grew absolutely awful, -as her perfect features assumed an expression which might have -belonged to the angel of vengeance or death.</p> -<p>But there were moments when her naturally strong spirit, not -yet wholly subdued, struggled against her conviction, and -endeavoured to find modes of averting her fate: it was in one of -these, perhaps, that she gave her hand to a wooer, from a distant -part of the country, a sailor, who either had <a -name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>not heard, or -did not regard the prediction of Rhys, upon condition that he -should remove her far from her native village to the home of his -family and friends, for she sometimes felt as if the decree which -had gone forth against her, could not be fulfilled except upon -the spot where she had heard it, and that her heart would be -lighter if men’s eyes would again look upon her in -kindliness, and she no longer sate beneath the glare of those -that knew so well the secret of her soul. Thus thinking, -she quitted N— with her husband; and the tormentor, who had -poisoned her repose, soon after her departure, left the village -as secretly and as suddenly as he had entered it.</p> -<p>But, though Ruth could depart from his corporeal presence, and -look upon his cruel visage no more, yet the eye of her soul was -fixed upon his shadow, and his airy form, the creation of her -sorrow, still sat by her side; the blight that he had breathed -upon her peace had withered her heart, and it was in vain that -she sought to forget or banish the recollection from her -brain. Men and women smiled upon her as before in the days -of her joy, the friends of her husband welcomed her to their -bosoms, but they could give no peace to her heart: she shrunk -from their friendship, she shivered equally at their neglect, she -dreaded any cause that might lead to that which, it had been -said, she must do; nightly she sat alone and thought, she dwelt -upon the characters of those around her, and shuddered that in -some she saw violence and selfishness enough to cause injury, -which she might be supposed to resent to blood. Then she -wept bitter tears and thought of her native village, whose -inhabitants were so mild, and whose previous knowledge of her -hapless destiny might induce them to avoid all that might hasten -its completion, and sighed to think she had <a -name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>ever left it -in the mistaken hope of finding peace elsewhere. Again, her -sick fancy would ponder upon the modes of murder, and wonder how -her victim would fall. Against the use of actual violence -she had disabled herself; she had never struck a blow, her small -hand would suffer injury in the attempt; she understood not the -usage of fire-arms, she was ignorant of what were poisons, and a -knife she never allowed herself, even for the most necessary -purposes: how then could she slay? At times she took -comfort from thoughts like these, and at others, in the blackness -of her despair, she would cry, “If it must be, O let it -come, and these miserable anticipations cease; then I shall, at -least, destroy but one; now, in my incertitude, I am the murderer -of many!”</p> -<p>Her husband went forth and returned upon the voyages which -made up the avocation and felicity of his life, without noticing -the deep-rooted sorrow of his wife: he was a common man, and of a -common mind; his eye had not seen the awful beauty of her whom he -had chosen; his spirit had not felt her power; and, if he had -marked, he would not have understood her grief; so she ministered -to him as a duty. She was a silent and obedient wife, but -she saw him come home without joy, and witnessed his departure -without regret; he neither added to nor diminished her sorrow: -but destiny had one solitary blessing in store for the victim of -its decrees,—a child was born to the hapless Ruth, a lovely -little girl soon slept upon her bosom, and, coming as it did, the -one lone and lovely rose-bud in her desolate garden, she welcomed -it with a warmer joy and cherished it with a kindlier hope.</p> -<p>A few years went by unsoiled by the wretchedness which had -marked the preceding; the joy of <a name="page16"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 16</span>the mother softened the anguish of -the condemned, and sometimes when she looked upon her daughter -she ceased to despair: but destiny had not forgotten her claim, -and soon her hand pressed heavily upon her victim; the giant -ocean rolled over the body of her husband, poverty visited the -cottage of the widow, and famine’s gaunt figure was visible -in the distance. Oppression came with these, for arrears of -rent were demanded, and he who asked was brutal in his anger and -harsh in his language to the sufferers. Ruth shuddered as -she heard him speak, and trembled for him and for herself; the -unforgotten prophecy arose in her mind, and she preferred even -witnesses to his brutality and her degradation, rather than -encounter his anger and her own dark thoughts alone.</p> -<p>Thus goaded, she saw but one thing that could save her, she -fled from her persecutors to the home of her youth, and, leading -her little Rachel by the hand, threw herself into the arms of her -kin: they received her with distant kindness, and assured her -that she should not want; in this they kept their promise, but it -was all they did for Ruth and her daughter; a miserable -subsistence was given to them, and that was embittered by -distrust, and the knowledge that it was yielded unwillingly.</p> -<p>Among the villagers, although she was no longer shunned as -formerly, her story was not forgotten; if it had been, her -terrific beauty, the awful flashing of her eyes, her large black -curls hanging like thunder-clouds over her stern and stately brow -and marble throat, her majestic stature, and solemn movements, -would have recalled it to their recollections. She was a -marked being, and all believed (though each would have pitied her -had <a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 17</span>they -not been afraid) that her evil destiny was not to be averted; she -looked like one fated to some wonderful deed. They saw she -was not one of them, and though they did not directly avoid her, -yet they never threw themselves into her way, and thus the -hapless Ruth had ample leisure to contemplate and grieve over her -fate. One night she sat alone in her wretched hovel, and, -with many bitter ruminations, was watching the happy sleep of her -child, who slumbered tranquilly on their only bed: midnight had -long passed, yet Ruth was not disposed to rest; she trimmed her -dull light, and said mentally, “Were I not poor, such a -temptation might not assail me, riches would procure me -deference; but poverty, or the wrongs it brings, may drive me to -this evil; were I above want it would be less likely to be. -O, my child, for thy sake would I avoid this doom more than for -mine own, for if it should bring death to me, what will it not -hurl on thee?—infamy, agony, scorn.”</p> -<p>She wept aloud as she spoke, and scarcely seemed to notice the -singularity (at that late hour) of some one without, attempting -to open the door; she heard, but the circumstance made little -impression; she knew that as yet her doom was unfulfilled, and -that, therefore, no danger could reach her; she was no coward at -any time, but now despair had made her brave; the door opened and -a stranger entered, without either alarming or disturbing her, -and it was not till he had stood face to face with Ruth, and -discovered his features to be those of Rhys Meredith, that she -sprung up from her seat and gazed wildly and earnestly upon -him.</p> -<p>Meredith gave her no time to question; “Ruth <a -name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>Tudor,” -said he, “behold the cruelest of thy foes comes sueing to -thy pity and mercy; I have embittered thy existence, and doomed -thee to a terrible lot; what first was dictated by vengeance and -malice became truth as I uttered it, for what I spoke I -believed. Yet, take comfort, some of my predictions have -failed, and why may not this be false? In my own fate I -have ever been deceived, perhaps I may be equally so in thine; in -the mean time have pity upon him who was thy enemy, but who, when -his vengeance was uttered, instantly became thy friend. I -was poor, and thy scorn might have robbed me of subsistence in -danger, and thy contempt might have given me up. Beggared -by many disastrous events, hunted by creditors, I fled from my -wife and son because I could no longer bear to contemplate their -suffering; I sought fortune all ways since we parted, and always -has she eluded my grasp till last night, when she rather tempted -than smiled upon me. At an idle fair I met the steward of -this estate drunk and stupid, but loaded with gold; he travelled -towards home alone; I could not, did not wrestle with the fiend -that possessed me, but hastened to overtake him in his lonely -ride.—Start not! no hair of his head was harmed by me; of -his gold I robbed him, but not of his life, had I been the -greater villain, I should now be in less danger, since he saw and -marked my person: three hundred pounds is the meed of my daring, -and I must keep it now or die. Ruth, thou too art poor and -forsaken, but thou art faithful and kind, and will not betray me -to justice; save me, and I will not enjoy my riches alone; thou -knowest all the caves in the rocks, those hideous hiding-places, -where no foot, save thine, has dared <a name="page19"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 19</span>to tread; conceal me in these till -the pursuit be past, and I will give thee one half my wealth, and -return with the other to gladden my wife and son.”</p> -<p>The hand of Ruth was already opened, and in imagination she -grasped the wealth he promised; oppression and poverty had -somewhat clouded the nobleness but not the fierceness of her -spirit. She saw that riches would save her from wrath, -perhaps from blood, and, as the means to escape so mighty an -evil, she was not scrupulous respecting a lesser: independently -of this, she felt a great interest in the safety of Rhys; her own -fate seemed to hang upon his; she hid the ruffian in the caves -and supplied him with light and food.</p> -<p>There was a happiness now in the heart of Ruth—a joy in -her thoughts as she sat all the long day upon the deserted settle -of her wretched fireside, to which they had for many years been -strangers. Many times during the past years of her sorrow -she had thought of Rhys, and longed to look upon his face and sit -beneath his shadow, as one whose presence could preserve her from -the evil fate which he himself had predicted. She had long -since forgiven him his prophecy; she believed he had spoken the -truth, and this gave her a wild confidence in his power; a -confidence that sometimes thought, “if he can foreknow, can -he not also avert?” She said mentally, without any -reference to the temporal good he had promised her, “I have -a treasure in those caves; <i>he</i> is there; he who hath -foreseen and may oppose my destiny; he hath shadowed my days with -sorrow, and forbidden me, like ordinary beings, to hope: yet he -is now in my power; his life is in my hands; he says so, yet I -believe him not, for I cannot betray <a name="page20"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 20</span>him if I would; were I to lead the -officers of justice to the spot where he lies crouching, he would -be invisible to their sight or to mine; or I should become -speechless ere I could say, ‘Behold him.’ No, -he cannot die by me!”</p> -<p>And she thought she would deserve his confidence, and support -him in his suffering; she had concealed him in a deep dark cave, -hewn far in the rock, to which she alone knew the entrance from -the beach; there was another (if a huge aperture in the top of -the rock might be so called), which, far from attempting to -descend, the peasants and seekers for the culprit had scarcely -dared to look into, so perpendicular, dark, and uncertain was the -hideous descent into what justly appeared to them a bottomless -abyss; they passed over his head in their search through the -fields above, and before the mouth of his den upon the beach -below, yet they left him in safety, though in incertitude and -fear.</p> -<p>It was less wonderful, the suspicionless conduct of the -villagers towards Ruth, than the calm prudence with which she -conducted all the details relating to her secret; her poverty was -well known, yet she daily procured a double portion of food, -which was won by double labour; she toiled in the fields for the -meed of oaten cake and potatoes, or she dashed out in a crazy -boat on the wide ocean to win with the dredgers the spoils of the -oyster beds that lie on its bosom; the daintier fare was for the -unhappy guest, and daily did she wander among the rocks, when the -tides were retiring, for the shell-fish which they had flung -among the fissures in their retreat, which she bore, exhausted -with fatigue, to her home—and which her lovely child, now -rising into womanhood, <a name="page21"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 21</span>prepared for the luxurious meal; it -was wonderful too, the settled prudence of the little maiden, who -spoke nothing of the food which was borne from their frugal -board; if she suspected the secret of her mother, she respected -it too much to allow others to discover that she did so.</p> -<p>Many sad hours did Ruth pass in the robber’s cave; and -many times, by conversing with him upon the subject of her -destiny, did she seek to alleviate the pangs its recollection -gave her; but the result of such discussions were by no means -favourable to her hopes; Rhys had acknowledged that his threat -had originated in malice, and that he intended to alarm and -subdue, but not to the extent that he had effected: “I knew -well,” said he, “that disgrace alone would operate -upon you as I wished, for I foresaw you would glory in the -thought of nobly sustained misfortune; I meant to degrade you -with the lowest; I meant to attribute to you what I now painfully -experience to be the vilest of the vices; I intended to tell you, -you were destined to be a thief, but I could not utter the words -I had arranged and I was struck with horror at those I heard -involuntarily proceeding from my lips; I would have recalled them -but I could not; I would have said, ‘Maiden, I did but -jest,’ but there was something that seemed to withhold my -speech and press upon my soul, ‘so as thou hast said shall -this thing be’—yet take comfort, my own fortunes have -ever deceived me, and doubtlessly ever will, for I feel as if I -should one day return to this cave and make it my final -home.”</p> -<p>He spoke solemnly and wept,—but the awful eye of his -companion was unmoved as she looked on in wonder and contempt at -his grief. “Thou <a name="page22"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 22</span>knowest not how to endure,” -said she to him, “and as soon as night shall again fall -upon our mountains, I will lead thee forth on thy escape; the -danger of pursuit is now past; at midnight be ready for thy -journey, leave the cave, and ascend the rocks by the path I -shewed thee, to the field in which its mouth is situated; wait me -there a few moments, and I will bring thee a fleet horse, ready -saddled for the journey, for which thy gold must pay, since I -must declare to the owner that I have sold it at a distance, and -for more than its rated value.”</p> -<p>That midnight came, and Meredith waited with trembling anxiety -for the haughty step of Ruth; at length he saw her, she had -ascended the rock, and standing on its verge, was looking around -for her guest; as she was thus alone in the clear moonlight, -standing between rock and sky, and scarcely seemed to touch the -earth, her dark locks and loose garments scattered by the wind, -she looked like some giant spirit of the olden time, preparing to -ascend into the mighty black cloud which singly hung from the -empyreum, and upon which she already appeared to recline; -Meredith beheld her and shuddered,—but she approached and -he recovered his recollection.</p> -<p>“You must be speedy in your movements,” said she, -“when you leave me; your horse waits on the other side of -this field, and I would have you hasten lest his neighings should -betray your purpose. But, before you depart, Rhys Meredith, -there is an account to be settled between us: I have dared danger -and privations for you; that the temptations of the poor may not -assail me, give me my reward and go.”</p> -<p><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 23</span>Rhys -pressed his leathern bag to his bosom, but answered nothing to -the speech of Ruth: he seemed to be studying some evasion, for he -looked upon the ground, and there was trouble in the working of -his lip. At length he said cautiously, “I have it not -with me: I buried it, lest it should betray me, in a field some -miles distant; thither will I go, dig it up, and send it to thee -from B—, which is, as thou knowest, my first -destination.”</p> -<p>Ruth gave him one glance of her awful eye when he had spoken; -she had detected his meanness, and smiled at his incapacity to -deceive. “What dost thou press to thy bosom so -earnestly?” she demanded; “surely thou art not the -wise man I deemed thee, thus to defraud <i>my</i> claim: the -friend alone thou mightest cheat, and safely; but I have been -made wretched by thee, guilty by thee, and thy life is in my -power; I could, as thou knowest, easily raise the village, and -win half thy wealth by giving thee up to justice; but I prefer -reward from thy wisdom and gratitude; give, therefore, and be -gone.”</p> -<p>But Rhys knew too well the value of the metal of sin to yield -one half of it to Ruth; he tried many miserable shifts and lies, -and at last, baffled by the calm penetration of his antagonist, -boldly avowed his intention of keeping all the spoil he had won -with so much hazard. Ruth looked at him with scorn: -“Keep thy gold,” she said, “if it thus can -harden hearts, I covet not its possession; but there is one thing -thou must do, and that ere thou stir one foot. I have -supported thee with hard-earned industry, <i>that</i> I give -thee; more proud, it should seem, in bestowing than I could be, -from such as thee, in receiving: but the <a -name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>horse that is -to bear thee hence to-night I borrowed for a distant journey; I -must return with it, or with its value; open thy bag, pay me for -that, and go.”</p> -<p>But Rhys seemed afraid to open his bag in the presence of her -he had wronged. Ruth understood his fears; but, scorning -vindication of <i>her</i> principles, contented herself with -entreating him to be honest. “Be more just to thyself -and me,” she persisted: “the debt of gratitude I -pardon thee; but, I beseech thee, leave me not to encounter the -consequence of having stolen from my friend the animal which is -his only means of subsistence: I pray thee, Rhys, not to condemn -me to scorn.”</p> -<p>It was to no avail that Ruth humbled herself to entreaties; -Meredith answered not, and while she was yet speaking, cast -side-long looks towards the gate where the horse was waiting for -his service, and seemed meditating, whether he should not dart -from Ruth, and escape her entreaties and demands by dint of -speed. Her stern eye detected his purpose; and, indignant -at his baseness, and ashamed of her own degradation, she sprung -suddenly towards him, made a desperate clutch at the leathern -bag, and tore it from the grasp of the deceiver. Meredith -made an attempt to recover it, and a fierce struggle ensued, -which drove them both back towards the yawning mouth of the cave -from which he had just ascended to the world. On its very -verge, on its very extreme edge, the demon who had so long ruled -his spirit now instigated him to mischief, and abandoned him to -his natural brutality: he struck the unhappy Ruth a revengeful -and tremendous blow. At that moment a horrible thought -glanced like <a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -25</span>lightning through her soul; he was to her no longer what -he had been; he was a robber, ruffian, liar; one whom to destroy -was justice, and perhaps it was he—. -“Villain!” she cried, “thou—thou didst -predict that I was doomed to be a murderer! art thou—art -thou destined to be the victim?” She flung him from -her with terrific force, as she stood close to the abyss, and the -next instant heard him dash against its sides, as he was whirled -headlong into darkness.</p> -<p>It was an awful feeling, the next that passed over the soul of -Ruth Tudor, as she stood alone in the pale sorrowful-looking -moonlight, endeavouring to remember what had chanced. She -gazed on the purse, on the chasm, wiped the drops of agony from -her heated brow, and then, with a sudden pang of recollection, -rushed down to the cavern. The light was still burning, as -Rhys had left it, and served to shew her the wretch extended -helplessly beneath the chasm. Though his body was crushed, -his bones splintered, and his blood was on the cavern’s -sides, he was yet living, and raised his head to look upon her, -as she darkened the narrow entrance in her passage: he glared -upon her with the visage of a demon, and spoke like a fiend in -pain. “Me hast thou murdered!” he said, -“but I shall be avenged in all thy life to come. Deem -not that thy doom is fulfilled, that the deed to which thou art -fated is done: in my dying hour I know, I feel what is to come -upon thee; thou art yet again to do a deed of blood!” -“Liar!” shrieked the infuriated victim. -“Thou art yet doomed to be a murderer!” -“Liar!” “Thou art—and -of—thine only child!” She rushed to him, but he -was dead.</p> -<p><a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>Ruth -Tudor stood for a moment by the corpse, blind, stupefied, deaf, -and dumb; in the next she laughed aloud, till the cavern rung -with her ghastly mirth, and many voices mingled with and answered -it; but the noises scared and displeased her, and in an instant -she became stupidly grave; she threw back her dark locks with an -air of offended dignity, and walked forth majestically from the -cave. She took the horse by his rein, and led him back to -his stable: with the same unvarying calmness she entered her -cottage, and listened to the quiet breathings of her sleeping -child; she longed to approach her nearer, but some new and horrid -fear restrained her, and held back her anxious step: suddenly -remembrance and reason returned, and she uttered a shriek so full -of agony, so loud and shrill, that her daughter sprung from her -bed, and threw herself into her arms.</p> -<p>It was in vain that the gentle Rachel supplicated her mother -to find rest in sleep. “Not here,” she -muttered, “it must not be here; the deep cave and the hard -rock, these shall be my resting place; and the bed-fellow, lo! -now, he waits my coming.” Then she would cry aloud, -clasp her Rachel to her beating heart, and as suddenly, in horror -thrust her from it.</p> -<p>The next midnight beheld Ruth Tudor in the cave seated upon a -point of rock, at the head of the corpse, her chin resting upon -her hands, gazing earnestly upon the distorted face. Decay -had already begun its work; and Ruth sat there watching the -progress of mortality, as if she intended that her stern eye -should quicken and facilitate its operation. The next night -also beheld her there, but the current of her thoughts had -changed, and <a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -27</span>the dismal interval which had passed appeared to be -forgotten. She stood with her basket of food: “Wilt -thou not eat?” she demanded; “arise, strengthen thee -for thy journey; eat, eat, thou sleeper; wilt thou never awaken? -look, here is the meat thou lovest;” and as she raised his -head, and put the food to his lips, the frail remnant of -mortality shattered at her touch, and again she knew that he was -dead.</p> -<p>It was evident to all that a shadow and a change was over the -senses of Ruth; till this period she had been only wretched, but -now madness was mingled with her grief. It was in no -instance more apparent than in her conduct towards her beloved -child: indulgent to all her wishes, ministering to all her wants -with a liberal hand, till men wondered from whence she derived -the means of indulgence, she yet seized every opportunity to send -her from her presence. The gentle-hearted Rachel wept at -her conduct, yet did not complain, for she believed it the effect -of the disease, that had for so many years been preying upon her -soul. Her nights were passed in roaming abroad, her days in -the solitude of her hut; and even this became painful, when the -step of her child broke upon it. At length she signified -that a relative of her husband had died and left her wealth, and -that it should enable her to dispose of herself as she had long -wished; so leaving Rachel with her relatives in N—, she -retired to a hut upon a lonely heath, where she was less -wretched, because abandoned to her wretchedness.</p> -<p>In many of her ravings she had frequently spoken darkly of her -crime, and her nightly visits to the cave; and more frequently -still she addressed some unseen thing, which she asserted <a -name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>was for ever -at her side. But few heard these horrors, and those who -did, called to mind the early prophecy, and deemed them the -workings of insanity in a fierce and imaginative mind. So -thought also the beloved Rachel, who hastened daily to embrace -her mother, but not now alone as formerly; a youth of the village -was her companion and protector, one who had offered her worth -and love, and whose gentle offers were not rejected. Ruth, -with a hurried gladness, gave her consent, and a blessing to her -child; and it was remarked that she received her daughter more -kindly, and detained her longer at the cottage, when Evan was by -her side, than when she went to the gloomy heath alone. -Rachel herself soon made this observation, and as she could -depend upon the honesty and prudence of him she loved, she felt -less fear at his being a frequent witness of her mother’s -terrific ravings. Thus all that human consolation was -capable to afford was offered to the sufferer by her sympathising -children.</p> -<p>But the delirium of Ruth Tudor appeared to increase with every -nightly visit to the cave of secret blood; some hideous shadow -seemed to follow her steps in the darkness, and sit by her side -in the light. Sometimes she held strange parley with this -creation of her phrensy, and at others smiled upon it in scornful -silence; now, her language was in the tones of entreaty, pity, -and forgiveness; anon, it was the burst of execration, curses, -and scorn. To the gentle listeners her words were -blasphemy; and, shuddering at her boldness, they deemed, in the -simple holiness of their own hearts, that the evil one was -besetting her, and that religion alone could banish him. -Possessed by this idea, Evan one day suddenly <a -name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>interrupted -her tremendous denunciations upon her fate, and him who, she -said, stood over her to fulfil it, with imploring her to open the -book which he held in his hand, and seek consolation from its -words and promises. She listened, and grew calm in a -moment; with an awful smile she bade him open, and read at the -first place which should meet his eye: “from that, the word -of truth, as thou sayest, I shall know my fate; what is there -written I will believe.” He opened the book, and -read—</p> -<p>“<i>Whither shall I go from thy spirit</i>, <i>or -whither shall I flee from thy presence</i>? <i>If I go up -into heaven</i>, <i>thou art there</i>; <i>if I make my bed in -hell</i>, <i>thou art there</i>; <i>If I take the wings of the -morning</i>, <i>and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea</i>, -<i>even there shall thy hand lead me</i>, <i>and thy right hand -shall hold me</i>.”</p> -<p>Ruth laid her hand upon the book: “it is enough; its -words are truth; it hath said there is no hope, and I find -comfort in my despair: I have already spoken thus in the secrecy -of my heart, and I know that he will be obeyed; the unnamed sin -must be—.” Evan knew not how to comfort, so he -shut up his book and retired; and Rachel kissed the cheek of her -mother, as she bade her a tender good night. Another month -and she was to be the bride of Evan, and she passed over the -heath with a light step, for the thought of her bridal seemed to -give joy to her mother. “We shall all be happy -then,” said the smiling girl, as the youth of her heart -parted from her hand for the night; “and heaven kindly -grant that happiness may last.”</p> -<p>The time appointed for the marriage of Rachel <a -name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 30</span>Tudor and -Evan Edwards had long passed away, and winter had set in with -unusual sternness even on that stormy coast; when, during a land -tempest, on a dark November afternoon, a stranger to the country, -journeying on foot, lost his way in endeavouring to find a short -route to his destination, over stubble fields and meadow lands, -by following the footmarks of those who had preceded him. -The stranger was a young man, of a bright eye and hardy look, and -he went on buffeting the elements, and buffeted by them, without -a thought of weariness, or a single expression of -impatience. Night descended upon him as he walked, and the -snow storm came down with unusual violence, as if to try the -temper of his mind, a mind cultivated and enlightened, though -cased in a frame accustomed to hardships, and veiled by a plain, -nay almost rustic exterior. The thunder roared loudly above -him, and the wind blowing tremendously, raised the new-fallen -snow from the earth, which, mingling with the showers as they -fell, raised a clatter about his head which bewildered and -blinded the traveller, who, finding himself near some leafless -brambles and a few clustered bushes of the mountain broom, took -shelter under them to recover his senses, and reconnoitre his -position. “Of all these ingredients for a -storm,” said he smilingly to himself, “the lightning -is the most endurable after all; for if it does not kill, it may -at least cure, by lighting the way out of a labyrinth, and by its -bright flashes I hope to discover where I am.” In -this hope he was not mistaken: the brilliant and beautiful gleam -showed him, when the snow shower had somewhat abated, every -stunted bush and blade of grass for some miles, and something, <a -name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 31</span>about the -distance of one, that looked like a white-washed cottage of some -poor encloser of the miserable heath upon which he was now -standing. Full of hope of a shelter from the storm, and, -lit onwards by the magnificent torch of heaven, the stranger trod -cheerily forwards, and in less than half an hour, making full -allowance for his retrograding between the flashes, arrived at -his beacon the white cottage, which, from the low wall of loose -limestones by which it was surrounded, he judged to be, as he had -already imagined, the humble residence of some poor tenant of the -manor. He opened the little gate, and was proceeding to -knock at the door, when his steps were arrested by a singular and -unexpected sound; it was a choral burst of many voices, singing -slowly and solemnly that magnificent dirge of the church of -England, the 104th psalm. The stranger loved music, and the -sombrous melody of that fine air had an instant effect upon his -feelings; he lingered in solemn and silent admiration till the -majestic strain had ceased; he then knocked gently at the door, -which was instantly and courteously opened to his inquiry.</p> -<p>On entering, he found himself in a cottage of a more -respectable interior than from its outward appearance he had been -led to expect: but he had little leisure or inclination for the -survey of its effects, for his senses and imagination were -immediately and entirely occupied by the scene which presented -itself on his entrance. In the centre of the room into -which he had been so readily admitted, stood, on its tressels, an -open coffin; lights were at its head and foot, and on each side -sat many persons of both sexes, who <a name="page32"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 32</span>appeared to be engaged in the -customary ceremony of watching the corse previous to its -interment in the morning. There were many who appeared to -the stranger to be watchers, but there were but two who, in his -eye, bore the appearance of mourners, and they had faces of grief -which spoke too plainly of the anguish that was mingling within: -one, at the foot of the coffin, was a pale youth just blooming -into manhood, who covered his dewy eyes with trembling fingers -that ill concealed the tears which trickled down his wan cheeks -beneath: the other—; but why should we again describe that -still unbowed and lofty form? The awful marble brow upon -which the stranger gazed, was that of Ruth Tudor.</p> -<p>There was much whispering and quiet talk among the people -while refreshments were handed amongst them; and so little -curiosity was excited by the appearance of the traveller, that he -naturally concluded that it must be no common loss that could -deaden a feeling usually so intense in the bosoms of Welsh -peasants; he was even checked for an attempt to question; but one -man,—he who had given him admittance, and seemed to possess -authority in the circle,—told him he would answer his -questions when the guests should depart, but till then he must -keep silence. The traveller endeavoured to obey, and sat -down in quiet contemplation of the figure who most interested his -attention, and who sat at the coffin’s head. Ruth -Tudor spoke nothing, nor did she appear to heed aught of the -business that was passing around her. Absorbed by -reflection, her eyes were generally cast to the ground; but when -they were raised, the traveller looked in vain for that -expression of grief which had struck him so <a -name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>forcibly on -his entrance; there was something wonderful strange in the -character of her perfect features: could he have found words for -his thought, and might have been permitted the expression, he -would have called it triumphant despair; so deeply agonised, so -proudly stern, looked the mourner that sat by the dead.</p> -<p>The interest which the traveller took in the scene became more -intense the longer he gazed upon its action; unable to resist the -anxiety which had begun to prey upon his spirit, he arose and -walked towards the coffin, with the purpose of contemplating its -inhabitant: a sad explanation was given, by its appearance, of -the grief and the anguish he had witnessed; a beautiful girl was -reposing in the narrow house, with a face as calm and lovely as -if she but slept a deep and refreshing sleep, and the morning sun -would again smile upon her awakening: salt, the emblem of the -immortal soul, was placed upon her breast; and, in her pale and -perishing fingers, a branch of living flowers were struggling for -life in the grasp of death, and diffusing their sweet and -gracious fragrance over the cold odour of mortality. These -images, so opposite, yet so alike, affected the spirit of the -gazer, and he almost wept as he continued looking upon them, till -he was aroused from his trance by the strange conduct of Ruth -Tudor, who had caught a glimpse of his face as he bent in sorrow -over the coffin. She sprung up from her seat, and darting -at him a terrible glance of recognition, pointed down to the -corse, and then with a hollow burst of frantic laughter, -shouted—“Behold, thou liar!”</p> -<p>The startled stranger was relieved from the necessity of -speaking by some one taking his arm <a name="page34"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 34</span>and gently leading him to the farther -end of the cottage; the eyes of Ruth followed him, and it was not -till he had done violence to himself in turning from her to his -conductor, that he could escape their singular fascination. -When he did so he beheld a venerable old man, the pastor of a -distant village, who had come that night to speak comfort to the -mourners, and perform the last sad duty to the dead on the -morrow. “Be not alarmed at what you have witnessed, -my young friend,” said he; “these ravings are not -uncommon: this unhappy woman, at an early period of her life, -gave ear to the miserable superstitions of her country, and a -wretched pretender to wisdom predicted that she should become a -shedder of blood: madness has been the inevitable consequence in -an ardent spirit, and in its ravings she dreams she has committed -one sin, and is still tempted to add to it another.”</p> -<p>“You may say what you please, parson,” said the -old man who had given admittance to the stranger, and who now, -after dismissing all the guests save the youth, joined the -talkers, and seated himself on the settle by their sides; -“you may say what you please about madness and -superstition; but I know Ruth Tudor was a fated woman, and the -deed that was to be I believe she has done: aye, aye, her madness -is conscience; and if the deep sea and the jagged rocks could -speak, they might tell us a tale of other things that: but she is -judged now; her only child is gone—her poor Rachel. -Poor Evan! he was her suitor: ah, he little thought two months -ago, when he was preparing for a gay bridal, that her slight -sickness would end thus: <i>he</i> does not deserve it; but for -her—God forgive me if I do <a name="page35"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 35</span>her wrong, but I think it is the hand -of God, and it lies heavy, as it should.” And the -grey-haired old man hobbled away, satisfied that in thus thinking -he was shewing his zeal for virtue.</p> -<p>“Alas, that so white a head should acknowledge so hard a -heart!” said the pastor; “Ruth is condemned, -according to his system, for committing that which a mightier -hand compelled her to do; how harsh and misjudging is age! -But we must not speak so loud,” continued he; “for -see, the youth Evan is retiring for the night, and the miserable -mother has thrown herself on the floor to sleep; the sole -domestic is rocking on her stool, and therefore I will do the -honours of this poor cottage to you. There is a chamber -above this, containing the only bed in the hut; thither you may -go and rest, for otherwise it will certainly be vacant to-night: -I shall find a bed in the village; and Evan sleeps near you with -some of the guests in the barn. But, before I go, if my -question be not unwelcome and intrusive, tell me who you are, and -whither you are bound.”</p> -<p>“I was ever somewhat of a subscriber to the old -man’s creed of fatalism,” said the stranger, smiling, -“and I believe I am more confirmed in it by the singular -events of this day. My father was a man of a certain rank -in society, but of selfish and disorderly habits. A course -of extravagance and idleness was succeeded by difficulties and -distress. Harassed by creditors, he was pained by their -demands, and his selfishness was unable to endure the sufferings -of his wife and children. Instead of exertion, he had -recourse to flight, and left us to face the difficulties from -which he shrunk. He was absent for years, while his family -toiled and struggled with success. Suddenly <a -name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>we heard that -he was concealed in this part of the coast; the cause which made -that concealment necessary I forbear to mention; but he as -suddenly disappeared from the eyes of men, though we never could -trace him beyond this part of the country. I have always -believed that I should one day find my father, and have lately, -though with difficulty, prevailed upon my mother to allow me to -make my inquiries in this neighbourhood; but my search is at an -end to-day,—I believe that I have found my father. -Roaming along the beach, I penetrated into several of those dark -caverns of the rocks, which might well, by their rugged aspects, -deter the idle and the timid from entering. Through the -fissures of one I discovered, in the interior, a light. -Surprised, I penetrated to its concealment, and discovered a man -sleeping on the ground. I advanced to awake him, and found -but a fleshless skeleton, cased in tattered and decaying -garments. He had probably met his death by accident, for -exactly over the corpse I observed, at a terrific distance, the -daylight, as if streaming down from an aperture above. Thus -the wretched man must have fallen, but how long since, or who had -discovered his body, and left the light which I beheld, I knew -not, though I cannot help cherishing a strong conviction that it -was the body of Rhys Meredith that I saw.”</p> -<p>“Who talks of Rhys Meredith,” said a stern voice -near the coffin, “and of the cave where the outcast -rots?” They turned quickly at the sound, and beheld -Ruth Tudor standing up, as if she had been intently listening to -the story. “It was I who spoke, dame,” said the -stranger gently, “and my speech was of my father, of Rhys -Meredith; I am Owen his son.”</p> -<p><a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -37</span>“Son! Owen Rhys!” said the bewildered -Ruth, passing her hand over her forehead, as if to enable her to -recover the combinations of these names; “and who art thou, -that thus givest human ties to him who is no more of humanity? -why speakest thou of living things as pertaining to the -dead? Father! he is father of nought save sin, and murder -is his only begotten!”</p> -<p>She advanced to the traveller as she spoke, and again caught a -view of his face; again he saw the wild look of recognition, and -an unearthly shriek followed the convulsive horror of her -face. “There! there!” she said, “I knew -it must be thyself; once before to-night have I beheld thee, yet -what can thy coming bode? Back with thee, ruffian! for is -not thy work done?”</p> -<p>“Let us leave her,” said the good pastor, -“to the care of her attendant; do not continue to meet her -gaze, your presence may increase, but cannot allay her malady: go -up to your bed and rest.”</p> -<p>He retired as he spoke; and Owen, in compliance with his wish, -ascended the ruinous stair which led to his chamber, after he had -beheld Ruth Tudor quietly place herself in her seat at the open -coffin’s head. The room to which he mounted was not -of the most cheering aspect, yet he felt that he had often slept -soundly in a worse. It was a gloomy unfinished chamber, and -the wind was whistling coldly and drearily through the uncovered -rafters above his head. Like many of the cottages in that -part of the country, it appeared to have grown old and ruinous -before it had been finished; for the flooring was so crazy as -scarcely to support the huge wooden bedstead, and in many -instances the boards were entirely separated from each other, <a -name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 38</span>and in the -centre, time, or the rot, had so completely devoured the larger -half of one, that through the gaping aperture Owen had an entire -command of the room and the party below, looking down immediately -above the coffin. Ruth was in the same attitude as when he -left her, and the servant girl was dozing by her side. -Every thing being perfectly tranquil, Owen threw himself upon his -hard couch, and endeavoured to compose himself to rest for the -night, but this had become a task, and one of no easy nature to -surmount; his thoughts still wandered to the events of the day, -and he felt there was some strange connexion between the scene he -had just witnessed, and the darker one of the secret cave. -He was an imaginative man, and of a quick and feverish -temperament, and he thought of Ruth Tudor’s ravings, and -the wretched skeleton of the rock, till he had worked out in his -brain the chain of events that linked one consequence with the -other: he grew restless and wretched, and amidst the tossings of -impatient anxiety, fatigue overpowered him, and he sunk into a -perturbed and heated sleep. His slumber was broken by -dreams that might well be the shadows of his waking -reveries. He was alone (as in reality) upon his humble bed, -when imagination brought to his ear the sound of many voices -again singing the slow and monotonous psalm; it was interrupted -by the outcries of some unseen things who attempted to enter his -chamber, and, amid yells of fear and execrations of anger, bade -him “Arise, and come forth, and aid:” then the -coffined form which slept so quietly below, stood by his side, -and in beseeching accents, bade him “Arise, and save -her.” In his sleep he attempted to spring up, but <a -name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 39</span>a horrid fear -restrained him, a fear that he should be too late; then he -crouched like a coward beneath his coverings, to hide from the -reproaches of the spectre, while shouts of laughter and shrieks -of agony were poured like a tempest around him: he sprung from -his bed and awoke.</p> -<p>It was some moments ere he could recover recollection, or -shake off the horror which had seized upon his soul. He -listened, and with infinite satisfaction observed an unbroken -silence throughout the house. He smiled at his own terrors, -attributed them to the events of the day, or the presence of a -corse, and determined not to look down into the lower room till -he should be summoned thither in the morning. He walked to -the casement, and looked abroad to the night; the clouds were -many, black, and lowering, and the face of the sky looked angrily -at the wind, and glared portentously upon the earth; the -<i>sleet</i> was still falling; distant thunder announced the -approach or departure of a storm, and Owen marked the clouds -coming from afar towards him, laden with the rapid and -destructive lightning: he shut the casement and returned towards -his bed; but the light from below attracted his eye, and he could -not pass the aperture without taking one glance at the party.</p> -<p>They were in the same attitude in which he had left them; the -servant was sleeping, but Ruth was earnestly gazing on the lower -end of the room upon something, without the sight of Owen; his -attention was next fixed upon the corpse, and he thought he had -never seen any living thing so lovely; and so calm was the aspect -of her last repose, that Meredith thought it more resembled a -temporary suspension of the <a name="page40"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 40</span>faculties, than the eternal stupor of -death: her features were pale, but not distorted, and there was -none of the livid hue of death in her beautiful mouth and lips; -but the flowers in her hand gave stronger demonstration of the -presence of the power, before whose potency their little strength -was fading; drooping with a mortal sickness, they bowed down -their heads in submission, as one by one they dropped from her -pale and perishing fingers. Owen gazed, till he thought he -saw the grasp of her hand relax, and a convulsive smile pass over -her cold and rigid features; he looked again; the eye-lids shook -and vibrated like the string of some fine-strung instrument; the -hair rose, and the head cloth moved: he started up ashamed: -“Does the madness of this woman affect all who would sleep -beneath her roof?” said he; “what is this that -disturbs me—or am I yet in a dream? Hark! what is -that?” It was the voice of Ruth; she had risen from -her seat, and was standing near the coffin, apparently addressing -some one who stood at the lower end of the room: “To what -purpose is thy coming now?” said she, in a low and -melancholy voice, “and at what dost thou laugh and gibe? -lo! you; she is here, and the sin you know of, cannot be; how can -I take the life which another hath already withdrawn? Go, -go, hence to thy cave of night, for this is no place of safety -for thee.” Her thoughts now took another turn; she -seemed to hide one from the pursuit of others; “Lie still! -lie still!” she whispered; “put out thy light! so, -so, they pass by and mark thee not; thou art safe; good night, -good night! now will I home to sleep;” <a -name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>and she -seated herself in her chair, as if composing her senses to -rest.</p> -<p>Owen was again bewildered in the chaos of thought, but for -this time he determined to subdue his imagination, and, throwing -himself upon his bed, again gave himself up to sleep; but the -images of his former dreams still haunted him, and their hideous -phantasms were more powerfully renewed; again he heard the solemn -psalm of death, but unsung by mortals—it was pealed through -earth up to the high heaven, by myriads of the viewless and the -mighty: again he heard the execrations of millions for some -unremembered sin, and the wrath and the hatred of a world was -rushing upon him: “Come forth! come forth!” was the -cry; and amid yells and howls they were darting upon him, when -the pale form of the beautiful dead arose between them, and -shielded him from their malice; but he heard her say aloud, -“It is for this, that thou wilt not save me; arise, arise, -and help!”</p> -<p>He sprung up as he was commanded; sleeping or waking he never -knew; but he started from his bed to look down into the chamber, -as he heard the voice of Ruth loud in terrific denunciation: he -looked; she was standing, uttering yells of madness and rage, and -close to her was a well-known form of appalling -recollection—his father, as he had seen him last; he arose -and darted to the door: “I am mad,” said he; “I -am surely mad, or this is still a continuation of my -dream:” he looked again; Ruth was still there, but -alone.</p> -<p>But, though no visible form stood by the maniac, some fiend -had entered her soul, and mastered her mighty spirit; she had -armed herself <a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -42</span>with an axe, and shouting, “Liar, liar, -hence!” was pursuing some imaginary foe to the darker side -of the cottage: Owen strove hard to trace her motions, but as she -had retreated under the space occupied by his bed, he could no -longer see her, and his eyes involuntarily fastened themselves -upon the coffin; there a new horror met them; the dead corpse had -risen, and with wild and glaring eyes was watching the scene -before her. Owen distrusted his senses till he heard the -terrific voice of Ruth, as she marked the miracle he had -witnessed; “The fiend, the robber!” she yelled, -“it is he who hath entered the pure body of my child. -Back to thy cave of blood, thou lost one! back to thine own dark -hell!” Owen flew to the door; it was too late; he -heard the shriek—the blow: he <i>fell</i> into the room, -but only in time to hear the second blow, and see the cleft hand -of the hapless Rachel fall back upon its bloody pillow; his -terrible cries brought in the sleepers from the barn, headed by -the wretched Evan, and, for a time, the thunders of heaven were -drowned in the clamorous grief of man. No one dared to -approach the miserable Ruth, who now, in utter frenzy, strode -around the room, brandishing, with diabolical grandeur, the -bloody axe, and singing a wild song of triumph and joy. All -fell back as she approached, and shrunk from the infernal majesty -of her terrific form; and the thunders of heaven rolling above -their heads, and the flashings of the fires of eternity in their -eyes, were less terrible than the savage glare and desperate -wrath of the maniac:—suddenly, the house rocked to its -foundation; its inmates were blinded for a moment, and sunk, -felled by a stunning blow, to the earth;—slowly each man <a -name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>recovered and -arose, wondering he was yet alive;—all were unhurt, save -one. Ruth Tudor was on the earth, her blackened limbs -prostrate beneath the coffin of her child, and her dead cheek -resting on the rent and bloody axe;—it had been the -destroyer of both.</p> -<h2><a name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 44</span>THE -YELLOW DWARF.<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">A TALE OF THE ORANGE TREE.</span></h2> -<p style="text-align: center">Oranges and Lemons.</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Every</span> body knows, or at least ought -to know, with what an uproar of delight the birth of an heir to -any noble family was celebrated in the old baronial times of -fisty-cuff memory; exactly such a festival would we, the humble -historian of the illustrious house of Tecklenburgh, describe if -we knew how to render justice to the outrageous mirth which shook -the old castle to its very foundation, on the day of the eventful -morn on which the lady of the eldest son of the family had -presented her lord, and his no less expecting father the count, -with a new prop to the seat of their ancient dignities. It -was amid the mingled uproar of trumpets, bells, soldiers, women, -horses, and dogs, that the respectable purple-nosed dominican, -who was confessor to the family, gave a blessing and a name to -its future representative; and immediately after the ceremony, -the knights and nobles, wearied by the blows given and received -in the jousts, retired to the dining hall with the threefold -intention of filling their empty stomachs with something better -than the east wind, solacing their spirits with the biting jests -of the count’s fool, and curing their wounds and bruises of -the morning by bathing them in flagons of rhenish, till the moon -should look down upon the evening.</p> -<p><a name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>But -happiness will not endure for ever, like riches, she maketh -herself wings and fleeth away: the company, after picking the -flesh of the huge wild boar to the bone, began to stare at each -other with bleared eyes, ask querulous questions with stuttering -tongues, and reply with solemn and important visages; and the -count of Tecklenburgh, fearing that his youngest son, the -handsome Sir Ludolph, would soon grow as wise as the rest of the -party, and of course utterly unfit for business, withdrew him -quietly from the table and conducted him to his private -apartment; there, seating himself in his state chair and enrobing -his person, with an air of paternal dignity he solemnly demanded -of his son, if he had, according to his particular order, -considered the subject of their last conference. The young -knight answered, without any hesitation, that he had not, for -that the subject was so disagreeable to him that he had never -suffered it to enter his mind since; that he thought the tonsure -excessively unbecoming, and that he had no inclination to pray -every time St. Benedict’s bells should ring; and he added -moreover, that he was resolved to carve himself out a fortune -with his sword, and for that purpose intended to set off -immediately for the court of the injured princes of Thuringia, -whose cause was a just and honourable one, and make them an offer -of his services: all this was said with an air of so much -determination and composure, as partly to disturb, and partly to -amuse the gravity of the count of Tecklenburgh; but considering -within himself for a few moments, he thought this last project of -his son was not quite so foolish as he had at first been willing -to imagine it. In addition to high courage and <a -name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>many knightly -acquirements, Ludolph possessed a very handsome person, and this -idea connecting itself with the beautiful sister of the princes -of Thuringia, he began to think that it would be a pity to hide -that fine form under a greasy cassock; he reflected that should -the three sons of Albert the Depraved get their brains knocked -out in the skirmish, (a consummation devoutly to be wished, and, -from their warlike character and powerful enemies, very likely to -happen,) their possessions would descend to their sister, who -might possibly fall in love with his handsome son, and then -possibly the margraviate of Thuringia might finally centre in his -family. These, and many other possibilities working in the -brain of father Tecklenburgh, worked a change in his countenance -also; and Ludolph seeing a smile, or something like one, hovering -over his iron features, judged it a favourable opportunity for -re-enforcing his petition, which he did with all the zeal and -eloquence he could muster—eloquence which touched the heart -of his tender father, for he assured him that if he would permit -him to depart, he would not draw the smallest piece of copper -from his treasury to fit him out for the expedition, but would -make his aunt’s legacy of relics answer every -purpose. This last remonstrance settled the business; count -Tecklenburgh, finding it was to cost him nothing, gave his -consent to the measure, and made his son happy in his own way, -though, if that happiness had cost him a single cruitzner, he -would have held fast to the tonsure in spite of all the -repugnance of poor Ludolph; as it was, he gave him his blessing, -and dismissed him with much good advice, but not a single coin, -and the knight was too happy <a name="page47"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 47</span>in the granted permission to grieve -at his father’s lack of liberality. With a lightened -heart he went for his holy legacy, which he found much heavier -than he had expected; every bone and rag was carefully marked -with the name of its original owner, and, after getting the monk -to read him their titles, and affix a value to each article, he -hastened to dispose of his sanctified treasure. He imagined -the most likely persons to bid handsomely for his commodities -would be the monks, who paid such respectful and humble reverence -to cargoes of that description; but, after visiting a convent of -Dominicans situated near the castle, in this instance he found -himself most grievously mistaken; these holy pedlars were much -too wise to buy what they had long found their account in -selling: they had already a good stock on hand, and, when this -should be exhausted, they could manufacture others at a much -cheaper rate than they could purchase them of count Ludolph: so -he carried his legacy to the nuns, who rejected it -instantaneously, doubting whether the articles were -genuine. From the nuns he went to all the orders of -mendicants, who treated him and his relics with great contempt, -cried down his cargo, and impudently asserted that the leg of St. -Bridget, which he had considered the most valuable article in the -pious collection, was the leg of a woman who was hung some years -before for sorcery in Nuremburg, as they themselves had the real -original limb of the saint in their possession. Thus -disappointed among the shorn lambs of the fold, Ludolph -determined to seek for purchasers among the laity, and -accordingly found them in the persons of priest-ridden princes, -crusading nobles, pilgrim knights, and convent-founding <a -name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 48</span>ladies: the -great variety of his good aunt’s collection enabled him to -gratify the tastes of all, for his box contained one member or -other of every saint mentioned in the monk of Treves’s -martyrology. St. Bridget’s leg he sold at a high -price to a miserable old noble who had grown rich by rapine, and -who trusted by this measure to scare away the goblins and -spectres who nightly kept their revels round his bed. The -thumb of St. Austin was purchased by a beautiful princess, as the -guard of her chastity amid the allurements of a court, and was -suspended like a camphor bag around her delicate neck; while the -illustrious mother of a reprobate young knight earnestly hoped, -by tacking a piece of the hair shirt of St. Jerome to the shirt -of her son, to effect a reformation in his morals, and an -amendment in his manners. There were always abundance of -fools in the world, and in those unlettered times it did not -require the light of a lantern to look for them. Ludolph -thought so, as, with a lightened box but a heavy purse, he -returned to Tecklenburgh to fit out for his expedition. -Hosen, boots, vests, tunics, hoods, harness, and arms, were all -ready in a short time; for when a man has money, every thing else -under the sun is very much at his service. His appointments -were all of the handsomest kind; his device was a boar, and his -colours were blue and scarlet. And thus, having equipped -the knight and sent him forward, let us look back for a little, -to ascertain whither he is going, and for what purpose when he -shall arrive there.</p> -<p>The cause of the princes of Thuringia was, as count Ludolph -had truly stated, a just and honourable one: their father, Albert -the Depraved, <a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -49</span>had disinherited them, and banished their mother, in -favour of a worthless mistress and his illegitimate son, for whom -he anxiously endeavoured to procure the investiture of his -dominions after his decease. Not succeeding in this notable -project, and bent upon the ruin of his own children, he sold his -landgraviate of Misnia to the emperor Adolphus, who dying before -he could be benefited by his purchase, bequeathed this right, to -which he had no right at all, to his brother Philip of Nassau, -who, poor in character, and still poorer in purse, was now -levying an army, aided by the emperor Albert, to deprive the -legitimate heir, Frederic with the Bite, and his brother Dictman, -of their rights and possessions. To this project they were -by no means disposed to consent, more especially as their mother, -Margaret, daughter of Frederic the Redbeard, continually kept -alive their resentment against their worthless father and his -abandoned associates. This princess, on being years before -separated from her children by her husband, had requested -permission to take leave of them ere their departure, which being -granted, she, in the frenzy of rage and grief, left a singular -memorial of her wrongs with her eldest son; she bit a piece out -of his cheek, and the impression remaining upon his face for -ever, inflamed his indignation against the original author of -this disfigurement; so that, when capable of bearing arms, he -deposed his father and assumed his place, to thrust him from -which Philip of Nassau was now threatening, and to oppose whom -half Germany was rising in arms to assist the cheek-bitten -Frederic, and among many others the knight of Tecklenburgh.</p> -<p>Margaret of Suabia, the mother of the princes, <a -name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 50</span>during the -early part of her life, had been confined by her husband in the -castle of Wartzburg, in order that she might be removed the more -readily into a still smaller abode, whenever the proper -opportunity should occur, and which he piously determined not to -neglect. She was at this period in a situation which might -have interested any man but such a husband, for she promised to -increase his illustrious family by an additional son or daughter; -but as he cared for no children but the son of his mistress -Cunegunda, this circumstance rather operated against the poor -princess, who was left to amuse herself as well as she could in -superintending the infancy of her sons, and hunting in the -haunted forest of Eisenac. One day, while thus diverting -her attention from the many anxieties which oppressed her, she -found herself suddenly separated from her attendants; but hearing -a horn sound to the right, she spurred on her palfrey in that -direction, till, after an hour’s hard riding, she began to -fear she was removing still further from her people, for no sound -could she hear but that of the eternal bugle, no hoof-tramp but -that of her own steed. Still the horn sounded, and still -the princess galloped, till at length wearied by her exercise, -and finding herself in a large open plain, she dismounted to -reconnoitre; at the same moment she remarked the silence of the -horn, and the appearance of a gigantic orange tree, loaded with -fine fruit, in the centre of the tranquil plain. -Astonishment she certainly felt on beholding so extraordinary and -beautiful an object; but hunger and fatigue had entirely banished -all notions of fear; besides, dame Margaret, having no small -share of the curiosity of her grandmother Eve, <a -name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>could no more -resist the temptation of tasting these oranges, than the first -woman did the apple; so climbing up into the tree, she regaled -herself to her heart’s content with this fine fruit of the -forest. By the time she had fairly dined, and was as weary -of eating as she had previously been of riding, she bethought her -of the boys at home, and with what glee they would have marched -to the sack of the orange tree; but as that was not possible, she -determined they should not be without share of the spoil, and -therefore began to fill her huge pockets with the ripest and the -largest of the fruit. But this action displeased the -hospitable master of the table at which she had been so -plentifully regaled; “Eat, but take nothing away,” -had been one of his maxims, and he was mortally offended to see -this honest rule set at nought in the person of a princess, a -lady who, he thought, ought to have understood better -manners. Before, therefore, <i>she</i> had laid up -provisions for the march, a little shrill voice from the tree -commanded her highness “not to steal his fruit,” and, -at the same instant, there issued from the trunk which opened to -give him a passage, a figure which effectually satisfied the -curiosity of the princess of Suabia. The animal which now -quickly ascended the tree, and placed himself <i>vis à -vis</i> with her highness, was a little deformed man, about three -feet and a half high, with a face as yellow as the oranges upon -which he lived, hair of the same hue hanging down to his heels, -and a monstrous beard, of the same bilious complexion, gracefully -descending to his feet; if you add to this, the gaiety of his -yellow doublet, short cloak, and hose, you will not wonder that -Margaret did not altogether relish the <a name="page52"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 52</span><i>tête à tête</i> -in which she found herself so suddenly and singularly placed, -independent of the awkwardness of paying a first visit in the -boughs of a tree. “Princess,” said the little -yellow devil, after staring at her some time with his two huge -goggling yellow eyes, “what business have you -here?” “I have lost my way,” she replied, -“and being fatigued, was going to gather an orange to -appease my hunger:” but he, without the least respect for -his guest, or the rank of an emperor’s daughter, rudely -answered, “Woman, you lie! you were stealing my property to -carry away.” At this insolent reproach, Margaret, -whose patience was never proverbial, felt a strong inclination to -treat the demon as she afterwards did her son; but fearing that -the little gentleman might not endure it quite so temperately, -prudently restrained this effort of her indignation, and only -said, “I did not know the tree had any other owner than -myself, or I would not have gathered any; what I have eaten I -cannot restore, but here is the last I have taken;” and she -threw it rather roughly at the Dwarf, who, irritated excessively -at this behaviour, told her, grinning hideously, and exhibiting -for her admiration his monstrous overgrown yellow claws, that he -had a strong temptation to tear her to pieces, which nothing but -his wish to be allied to the blood of the emperors should have -prevented. “My oranges,” said he, “which -you have stolen, I estimate above all price, except that which I -am going to demand: I am a powerful demon, and rule with -unbounded sway many thousand spirits; but I am unhappy in not -having a wife with whom to share my power; as Adam was not -delighted in Paradise, neither am I in my Orange <a -name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>Tree, without -a companion. You are about to present an infant to your -lord, who is utterly indifferent about the matter; it will be a -girl, and I demand her in marriage on the day she will be twenty -years old: consent to be my mother, and I will avenge your -injuries upon your husband, and load you with honours and riches; -refuse, and I will tear you in pieces this moment, and furnish my -supper table with your carcass.” Margaret, who had -never been so terrified in all her life, and would not only have -given her daughter, but her sons and husband into the bargain, to -have got away, readily promised to agree with the Dwarf’s -wishes, who now became exceedingly polite, embraced his dear -mother, and assured her of his devotion. He then informed -her he would give her notice some months before he should claim -his wife, placed her carefully and tenderly upon her palfrey, and -mounting behind, spurred on the animal, who flew like the wind to -the entrance of the forest; where again embracing his good -mother, he dismounted and disappeared. Margaret, freed from -the odious company of the Yellow Dwarf, began to reflect with no -very pleasant feelings upon her present adventure and future -prospects. She was, indeed, safe out of the orange-coloured -clutches of her dutiful and well-beloved son; and, vexed as she -was by the horrible promise she had been obliged to make, she -could not help congratulating herself with great sincerity upon -this circumstance, and began, like all who have just escaped a -present danger, to make light of the evils in the distance. -The farther she cantered from the Orange Tree, the easier her -mind became; and taking a few hints from “Time, the -comforter,” she reflected that <a name="page54"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 54</span>many things might occur before the -expiration of twenty years: it was a long period to look forward; -the little yellow devil might die, (and, indeed, she could not -but allow that he looked most miserably ill,) or he might forget -his bargain, or he might be conquered and killed by some black, -pea-green, or true blue devil, who might be stronger or more -powerful than himself; or, in case of the worst, she could secure -her daughter in some strong castle or convent, or marry her, -before the expiration of the term, to some prince capable of -protecting her; at all events, thought Margaret, -“sufficient to the day is the evil thereof;” and, -delighted by these soothing reflections, and charmed to find -herself in a whole skin, she trotted along with great -complacency, and arrived quite comforted before the gates of -Wartzburg.</p> -<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> -<blockquote><p>“These yellow cowslip cheeks,<br /> -And eyes as green as leeks.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">Twenty</span> years is indeed a long -period to look forward, but a very short one to look back, and so -thought the now widowed princess, when, nineteen years and some -months after her adventure in the forest, she sat beside her -lovely daughter in the palace of Erfurt, listening with earnest -and tender attention to the plans of her warlike sons for -wresting their dominions from the iron grasp of Albert the -One-eyed and Philip of Nassau. It was necessary that they -should give battle to their enemies; and as the margrave of -Misnia intended to fight for his country in <a -name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>person, this -would unavoidably deprive her beloved daughter of that powerful -protection which hitherto had been her security against the -threats of the Yellow Dwarf. It now wanted but six months -of the period when he had determined to claim his bride; and as -he had not hitherto given any indication, according to his word, -of his appearance for this purpose, she trusted he might have -forgotten it altogether, and, quietly resolving not to complain -of this breach of promise, forebore to mention the subject to her -children.</p> -<p>One day, during the bustle of preparation for the approaching -warfare, a knight, splendidly attired, arrived at the palace, and -demanded to be introduced to the princess Margaret, who no sooner -beheld him, than she recognised in the colour of his arms the -livery of her dear son-in-law, the Dwarf of the Orange -Tree. He announced himself as the knight of the king of the -oranges, and his embassy was to place abundance of gold at the -feet of the princess Margaret, and to carry away her daughter as -the bride of his master. Concealment was no longer -possible, so sending for her children, she informed them of her -forest adventure, and its unfortunate result. Poor Brunilda -fainted away; her brothers swore as lustily as ever queen -Elizabeth did, and fairly bullied the knight ambassador for his -presumption in daring to think of their sister as a helpmate for -the little dirty low-lived sorcerer his master; and Margaret, who -before their entrance had been absolutely terrified to death by -his presence, now finding herself protected, suffered her tongue -to wag at a most unconscionable rate against the poor -ambassador. She told him she had a great mind to cut off -his ears, for bringing her such a message; <a -name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>that his -master was a little conceited monster; that if, with all this -gold and silver, he would buy a fine castle, cut off his beard, -and live like a gentleman, he should not want her interest with -one of the dairy-maids, but as it was, the thing was utterly -impossible, he would not succeed even with the lowest -scullion. “Madam,” replied the knight, with a -grim kind of gravity, which was not half relished by the -princess, “I would have you to understand I came not hither -to bandy words with you, nor to listen to a catalogue of my -master’s perfections: I must, however, inform you, that he -would not part from his Orange Tree, nor with his beard, for all -the princesses in the universe, the fair Brunilda included. -If you do not think proper to keep your promise, he will find -means to oblige you: neither does he require human aid to obtain -his betrothed bride; but his gallantry and good nature will not -allow him to force the will of the fair princess, if he can -relinquish his determination with honour. He is fully aware -of your present repugnance to his nuptials, and he is now -whispering me to say, that if the princess herself declines his -vows (which he can hardly believe), he will release her upon -condition of her finding a champion that shall conquer me, and -afterwards my invincible master, before the six months have -expired, in single combat on horseback, on foot, with lance or -sword, according to his highness’s good pleasure at the -time of meeting: shall I say these terms are -accepted?” “You may,” replied the -margrave, to whom these conditions did not appear very hard, and -who thought it better to comply with than refuse them, as he was -not aware of the strength of the enemy to whom his <a -name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -57</span>mother’s promise had really been given; and he -remembered he should probably be compelled to leave his lovely -sister unprotected, while absent on his distant wars. The -arrangements were, therefore, soon made, and the yellow champion -was satisfied.</p> -<p>And now a splendid scene opened to view in the territories of -Frederic with the bitten cheek. No sooner each day had the -bells rung out the hour of prime, than the trumpet sounded to -proclaim the challenge of the yellow knight, and the promise of -the margrave of Misnia, that the successful champion of the fair -Brunilda should obtain her hand for his reward. Day after -day did some knight essay the adventure; and day after day did -the noble Margaret enter the lists, attended by her lovely -daughter, who looked through her fan of peacock’s feathers, -as charming, and carried herself as “daintily,” as -whilom did the beauteous Esther, when she entered into the -presence of the loving Ahasuerus. But not like that -beautiful daughter of the scorners of pork did she obtain her -petition; for day after day was she compelled to witness the ruin -of her hopes in the repeated triumphs of the yellow Haman over -her own black, brown, or party-coloured champions: knight after -knight fell beneath his ponderous arm, and were obliged to resign -their claims to the fair Brunilda, to her infinite regret, and -their bitter mortification. Already had the counts of -Wartzburg, Oettingen, Henneberg, Hanau, and Conrad of Reida, been -compelled to acknowledge the superiority of his powerful arm, -when the arrival of the handsome knight of Tecklenburgh, who just -came in time to hear a week’s rest proclaimed, in order to -gain time for the approach of <a name="page58"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 58</span>other knights from the most distant -parts of Germany to the aid of the endangered princess, revived -the hopes of Brunilda. He came, he saw, he -conquered—not the sword of the yellow champion, but the -heart of the charming princess, which was formed of too tender -materials to hold out against so well-looking and redoubted a -warrior: she fell instantly in love with him to distraction, and -he, on his part, was too well bred to be behind-hand. In -the extravagance of her fondness, she thought all things possible -to her lover, and made no doubt that he would be victorious in -the combat. Ludolph was precisely of the same opinion, and -to manifest its justice, was most irritably impatient for the day -of combat, which was still at the distance of several halting -sun-risings and sun-settings, which that long-legged old -ragamuffin Time did not carry off, in the opinion of the lovers, -quite so rapidly as he ought to have done.</p> -<p>But it came at last, that day, that morning of miracles; it -came, and brought nothing with it to daunt the brave spirit of -the knight of Tecklenburgh. Light as the plume in his -casque, gay as the colours of his harness, he entered the lists, -and gallantly opposed his person against the ponderous carcase of -the yellow-coloured champion. Blow after blow was freely -given, and as freely received, till the spectators began to doubt -whether either of the men before them was really made of flesh -and blood. Proof decisive, however, was soon given, for the -sword of Ludolph cleft the helmet of his antagonist, and dashed -his weapon from his hand, so that, defenceless and at the mercy -of his conqueror, he yielded up his claim to victory, and was -content to beg <a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -59</span>his life. The acclamations of the people proved to -Ludolph the difficulty of the conquest he had just -achieved. The nobles were all anxious to testify their -esteem and admiration, though some in their hearts were bursting -with envy, and felt themselves almost choked by the fine things -they thought it necessary to utter. Ludolph took them all -in good faith with perfect confidence in their sincerity, for he -was too happy and too honest to suspect; and then turning to the -poor champion, whom he hardly allowed time to recover breath, -recommended him to return to his little lord, and bear his -defiance, as he should quietly wait to fulfil the last condition -ere he received the hand of the beautiful Brunilda. The -Yellow Champion took the advice thus kindly offered him, and -quitted the palace of Erfurt, leaving his conqueror busy enough -in accepting those disinterested professions of service which are -seldom offered except to those who do not want them, or from whom -an adequate return may not unreasonably be expected.</p> -<p>Ludolph waited with great impatience the Dwarf’s reply -to his challenge. His time was passed, meanwhile, in making -love to the princess (who on her part was tolerably well disposed -to listen to him), and laying up a stock of devotion, by prayer -and fasting, to serve, as occasion should warrant, in the -approaching combat with the demon, of whose power he had formed -other notions, since his residence in the Misnian court, than -either thinking him so harmless or so insignificant as he had -formerly done. But the days rolled on, and no dwarf -appeared. Margaret, who sincerely admired the valour of -Ludolph, was anxious to end his suspense, and <a -name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -60</span>Brunilda’s terrors, by uniting him at once to her -daughter, without waiting for the presence of the Lord of the -Orange Tree, of whom she could never think without shuddering; -but the margrave, who, much as he loved his sister and her noble -deliverer, was too much of a gentleman to break his word, even -with a dwarf, determined they should stay the full time allotted -by the demon. The latter was too gallant, and too much in -love with the princess, to forget his engagement, and accordingly -one morning, as the trumpets were sounding the usual summons to -the lists, the Dwarf himself entered them in his customary dress, -mounted upon a yellow steed, and surrounded by a large troop of -knights in his colours. The nobles and ladies of the -margrave’s court, struck by the oddity of his appearance, -entirely forgot their politeness, and burst into as hearty and -unanimous a laugh as ever was heard in our lower House at any of -Joe H—’s blunders. But it was no laughing -matter to Brunilda: she saw, for the first time, her intended -husband, and she felt that his ugliness even exceeded her -mother’s report, and heaven knows that had not been -flattering. She cast a look of tender entreaty upon -Ludolph, who, impatient to punish his rival and relieve her -anxiety, couched his lance, and spurred forward to meet the -demon, who, not to be behind-hand in courtesy, advanced to -receive him. But the knight suddenly sprung back, on -observing the singular dress of his adversary, the extraordinary -lightness of those accoutrements struck him with -astonishment. “Sir knight of the Orange Tree,” -said he, “except the lance in your hand and the sword in -your belt, I see no sort of preparation for a combat; sheathe -your <a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -61</span>person in harness, I pray you, that so at least the -chances may be more equal between us.” “What is -that to thee?” replied the Dwarf; “it is my pleasure -to fight in these garments: thief as thou art, conquer me in them -if thou canst. For thee, sweet lady, I am here, to prove my -right to thy hand, to rescue it from this craven, and fear not -but I shall deserve it: my palace is ready, thy dowry is ready, -and twice a thousand slaves wait to obey thy wishes.” -Ludolph could not endure this insolence, so rushing forward as -the yellow knights retired from the person of their leader, he -began a most furious attack upon the animal who pretended to -rival him in the affections of his lady. Alas! poor -Brunilda! if she had trembled before, during the combats with the -yellow knight, what anxiety must not have filled her bosom -now! The lances were soon shivered to pieces: the champions -drew their swords, but seemed to make very little impression with -them. Ludolph had not yet received a wound, and -yellow-jacket seemed determined to make good his boast, and hold -the knight of Tecklenburgh a tug. Vain was all the skill -and strength of the latter; though he struck with all his might -and main, and heart and soul, he could not cut through a single -hair of the Dwarf’s long beard, which seemed to wag at him -in derision. Poor Brunilda sat as uneasily upon her -canopied throne as if she had been upon a bed of nettles. -She prayed to all the saints in heaven, and St. Henry the Limper -in particular, to assist her dear knight in this terrible combat: -but St. Henry the Limper was not in good humour, or was otherwise -engaged, for he did not appear to pay the least attention to her -request, and Ludolph was left to <a name="page62"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 62</span>fight it out by himself as he -could. In truth, he did not want inclination to put an end -to the business. After pegging and poking at every inch of -the Dwarf’s invulnerable carcass, he espied a little -unguarded spot on the left side of his throat, exactly open to -his right hand. Delighted by the prospect of slicing off -his ragamuffin head, he aimed a mighty blow with all his force, -which the little demon parried; he struck a second with no better -success; but the third was triumphant, for it sent the yellow -head flying from his shoulders, and bounding to another part of -the area. The knight leaped from his saddle to seize the -head and hold it up to the view of the people; but in this race, -to his horror, he was outstripped by the Dwarf himself, who -likewise, darting from his horse, flew to the head, grasped it -firmly, gave it a shake, clapped it upon his shoulders, and fixed -it again as firmly and steadily as ever. Then, ere the -spectators could recover from the stupor into which this -unexpected contretemps had thrown them, he struck the staring -Ludolph to the ground, seized the princess by her flowing locks, -swung her behind him, and bolted out of the area. His -knights wheeled round to follow him, but the Misnian nobles, -recovering from their confusion, surrounded them with drawn -swords, and began a desperate battle, in which it appeared they -clearly had the worst, only hacking and hewing each other; for -the knights, squires, pages, and horses of the enemy suddenly -vanished from their sight, and in their places appeared a waggon -load of oranges bowling and rolling about the area in the most -amusing manner possible. It was some time ere the nobles -could direct their attention to the unfortunate count of <a -name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>Tecklenburgh, -who, stunned by the blow given to him as the parting blessing of -the spiteful Dwarf, was lying insensible on the ground: the -moment he recovered, he declared his intention of pursuing the -enemy, in which he was seconded by all the knights present, who, -headed by Margaret as guide and commander, resolved to storm the -Orange Tree itself, and liberate the captive damsel. They -set forward with great courage and in good order; but they might -just as effectively have stayed at home, for, after wandering -about the forest for three days, they returned crestfallen -enough, not only being unable to discover the Orange Tree, but -even the plain in which it stood! Poor Ludolph, whom the -princes had vainly endeavoured to comfort with the assurance that -he had fairly gained the victory, though he had lost the fruit of -it, did not return with them. They lost him from their -company the first day of their search, and they firmly and -devoutly believed the yellow devil had hooked him also in his -infernal claws. Margaret gave herself up to grief, and her -sons, finding nothing else was to be done, endeavoured to forget -theirs in the bustle of the approaching war.</p> -<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> -<p>Ha!—such a pair!</p> -<blockquote><p><i>S. Dro</i>. <i>I</i>, Sir, am Dromio! -command him away.</p> -<p><i>E. Dro</i>. <i>I</i>, Sir, am Dromio; pray let me -stay.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the meantime Brunilda was -jogging on at no easy rate behind the Yellow Dwarf, who, when <a -name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>arrived at -the Orange Tree, opened the trunk by a sign, and, dismounting, -bore his lovely burden into it. She felt herself, -immediately after, descending a flight of steps, which, from the -duration of time, appeared to be endless. They did -terminate, however, at last, and the Dwarf, placing her roughly -upon her feet, retired swiftly from the place, closing the -entrance at the bottom of the stairs carefully after him. -It was some time after his departure ere Brunilda took courage to -open her eyes and look around her; when she did, she found -herself in a subterraneous apartment as large as the bed-chamber -of the empress Constance. <a name="citation64"></a><a -href="#footnote64" class="citation">[64]</a> Every article -about it was of silver, and there was a magnificence about this -underground palace, which made her conclude it to be the castle -and principal residence of her intended husband, the Yellow -Dwarf, whose company she did not covet, and who, to do him -justice, did not appear to torment her. Food was supplied, -and every attention paid to her wishes by many attendants of both -sexes, who, however, never exchanged one single word in her -hearing. Wearied out by this continual taciturnity, she -began to wish for the sound of a human voice, and, thinking she -might probably learn something of the Dwarf’s intentions -from himself, she one day instead of questioning her dumb -attendants as usual about her lover, demanded some tidings of -their master. “He cannot approach your presence, -madam,” replied one of the mutes, breaking his hateful -silence, “unless you request his appearance. A mighty -spirit, one of the enemies of my master’s and your -felicity, has contrived <a name="page65"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 65</span>this misfortune by his spells, but if -you command it, he is permitted to attend you.” -Brunilda, who, in giving this required permission, never dreamed -of any thing more than making inquiries after her family and -lover, was confounded to hear the Dwarf, with the most rapturous -impertinence, volubly thank her for this approval of his, and -generous acknowledgment of her passion. Putting aside his -long beard lest it should throw him down, he knelt fantastically -at her feet, seized her white hand, and declared himself the -happiest of all demon-born beings. It was in vain that -Brunilda reasoned, entreated, and scolded: he protested he was -satisfied with the proofs she had given of her love, and, in -order to spare her modesty the pain of appearing to yield too -soon, he should put a gentle restraint upon her liberty, and not -suffer her to quit his palace till she became his wife. At -this avowal the poor princess grew outrageous; she asked the -little monster how he had dared to select a princess of her -exalted rank to share his hole under ground, and burrow like rats -in the earth? why he had not rather chosen some humble cast-away -maiden, who, having nothing in the world to lose, might be -contented out of it? “Rank!” replied the -irritated little demon, “and what is this rank of which you -are so vain? An imaginary splendour bestowed upon some men -by the cringing servility of others,—the weak fancy that -decks one with this supremacy, gives birth to the slavish fear -that ensures to him its possession. Rank!” continued -the atrabilious little viper, swelling into a respectable width -by the overflowing of his angry venom, “rank! it is power -gained by force, won by the sword, by fraud, by oppression! -The strongest is <a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -66</span>the noblest; and if so I am more than your equal -beautiful Brunilda, for, princess as you are, you are my captive -and I am your master.” Brunilda wept at this -insolence, and, like all who know not how to controvert what they -yet cannot bear to acknowledge, hated the Dwarf more than ever, -and resolved to prove it by seizing every opportunity of annoying -him. With laudable intention, she renewed the attack by -commenting with great severity upon his frightful little person: -she sneered at his long beard, short legs, and large head. -She demanded if he had ever looked in a mirror, and, if he had, -how he could presume to imagine he could captivate any woman -under such a detestable form? In no age have ugly people -borne to be laughed at, for, however hideous they may happen to -be, they seldom find it out themselves, and are in consequence, -very much surprised and offended when informed of it by others; -and, as vanity is usually the reigning passion of the most -disfigured, they seldom pardon an offence which is mortal. -The Dwarf, the ugliest animal the eyes of Brunilda had ever -encountered, could hardly believe this possible, and saw no joke -in her mirth at his expense, and, as he had his full share of -that precious commodity, vanity, he raved, stormed, and became so -insolent, that Brunilda was compelled to order him out of her -presence. This command, which he was obliged to obey, -irritated the little creature to madness, and he swore, that, -since he could not enter her presence without her permission, he -would find a mode of making her give it whenever he should -condescend to require it. This threat had more of truth in -it than Brunilda imagined. A few days after this animated -conversation, the Dwarf sent to ask leave to be allowed to pay -his visit to <a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -67</span>the princess, which was immediately refused. This -threw him into a rage, and he informed the princess by one of his -mutes, “that her lover Ludolph of Tecklenburgh was in his -power, and that his head should pay for the scorn with which she -thought proper to treat her lord and husband.” Poor -Brunilda hastily gave the required permission, upon condition -that Ludolph should accompany him; and her “lord and -husband,” as he styled himself entered, a few moments -after, followed by the knight, whom his demons had seized in the -forest. “There, madam,” said he, grinning like -Grimaldi, but not so merrily, “I found this stranger in the -neighbourhood of my Orange Tree, and I have brought him hither to -secure a welcome for myself. Did I not tell you I would -make you glad to receive me? Here shall this valorous -knight remain, a hostage for your good behaviour; and never shall -you receive him without admitting me at the same -moment.” Brunilda, who would have been delighted, in -her present condition, to have seen any human being whatever, was -in raptures at the sight of Ludolph, who, on his part, was -content with his captivity, since he shared it with her; and, -unrestrained by the presence of the Dwarf, they so often and so -tenderly repeated their mutual delight to each other, that the -grim jailer could not endure the sight of their happiness, and -rather than witness it, withdrew himself and Ludolph from the -company of Brunilda, which he did not again seek for some -time. When attended by Ludolph, he next entered her -apartment, his jealous tortures were increased by the renewed -endearments of the lovers, and resolving in his own mind not to -endure what he flattered himself he could easily <a -name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 68</span>remedy, he -threw a spell over the unlucky Brunilda, which he generously -hoped would destroy all the little tranquillity she -enjoyed. The charm operated upon the sight of the princess, -who no longer beheld her lover, but a hideous negro advancing -towards her. Brunilda was terrified, but, reassured by the -explanation of the Dwarf, who felicitated himself on her -mortification, she resolved to punish him in kind; so collecting -all the woman in her soul, and conquering her dislike of the ugly -shape he presented to her, she gave it a most affectionate -welcome, and caressed it as her dear Ludolph. The Dwarf -would willingly have annihilated him; but obliged to keep him in -existence to ensure himself admittance to Brunilda, he resolved -to embitter that existence as much as lay in his power, and -having once more recourse to his spells, the handsome Ludolph, -unchanged to himself, appeared to the eyes of the fascinated -princess a furious and monstrous tiger, armed with tremendous -fangs and claws. But love penetrates all disguises, and the -princess was now a match for the sorcerer. She knew that -the fangs and claws, however terrible to others, had no danger -for her, and she suffered him to lie at her feet, kiss her snowy -hand, and put his shaggy head upon her lap, without manifesting -the slightest apprehension, to the great annoyance of the Dwarf, -whose dull wit was sharpened by his jealousy, and he now -contrived the master-piece of spells, to the increased misery of -poor Brunilda, over whose clouded senses the charm once more -operating, presented her beloved Ludolph only under the form of -the Yellow Dwarf himself. This transformation was horrible -to both the sufferers, for each of the figures maintained <a -name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>that he was -the knight, and persisted in execrating the other as the -impostor, while Brunilda, wearied with gazing on their hateful -countenances, dared not afford the slightest notice to either, -lest she should bestow the tenderness designed for Ludolph upon -his detestable rival. In vain did she weep, threaten, and -supplicate the Dwarf to give her lover “any shape but -that.” She knew not even to which of the pair she -ought to address her petition. But the demon was -inexorable, listened unmoved to her sorrows, for his heart was as -hard as Pharaoh’s, and even inwardly laughed at her -agonies. In vain did she examine their features in the hope -of discovering some slight difference that might point out her -lover: both grinned the same ghastly smile,—both exhibited -the same unvarying ugliness of feature. Alas, poor -Brunilda! Lavater himself could not have assisted thee, -though, hadst thou lived in our days, or Dr. Spurzheim in thine, -some professional examination of the cerebral organisation of the -two dwarfs might have set the question at rest. Doubtless -some bump extraordinary, some wonderful dilation of the organ of -self-esteem in the skull of the true dwarf, or amativeness or -combativeness in that of the false one, might have aided thee to -discover the brutified soul confined in the brutified body. -But, as it was, they were both brutes to Brunilda, and, as she -had no wish to charm the Yellow Dwarf, she wept her -disappointment incessantly. Nor was Ludolph less busy than -the princess in employing threats and prayers by turns to mollify -the Dwarf, though one was to as little purpose as the other, in -the presence of the princess. The cunning demon reiterated -the same whining petition, used the <a name="page70"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 70</span>same arguments, and denounced the -same vengeance as the unhappy Ludolph; and when retired from her -apartment, laughed at his success, and defiance. It was in -vain that Ludolph accused him of having broken all the laws of -chivalry, held even by demons so sacred. He told him he -regarded no laws, except those which he had made himself. -It was to no purpose he argued his right to be set at liberty at -least. The Dwarf, who was a philosopher in his way, replied -that men had no rights, and that “<i>might</i>,” -which he possessed, was a much better argument, and a more -effective weapon. All this was unluckily true, but it did -not convince the Westphalian. Zeno, the stoic, said, -“that we had two ears, and but one tongue, that we might -hear much and say little.” It was a wise observation, -and happy are those that profit thereby: our two captives might, -if they had had the good luck ever to have heard it; but as they -had not, they acted directly counter, for they so heartily used -their two tongues, and so entirely spared their four ears, that -their jailer grew outrageous, and therefore, except when he went -to torment Brunilda, he resolved to free himself from the society -of the count of Tecklenburgh, who paid for his garrulity by being -condemned to talk to himself in one of the most dreary dungeons -of the cavern. Here he had full leisure to think of his -misfortunes, and execrate the contriver of them. He prayed -night and morning with all the strength of lungs he could -command, to all the saints in the calendar, to give him a lift -out of this purgatory. He was too good a Christian not to -abhor all thought of magic; but, finding how little notice was -taken of his petition by the higher powers, <a -name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 71</span>he could not -help thinking of the lower, and wishing and vowing, that if some -sorcerer, witch, or even devil, would but come to his assistance -now, he would find time enough for repentance hereafter, and heal -his conscience, and propitiate Heaven by many good deeds to be -done in perspective. “I would walk to Jerusalem, for -a penance,” said he, “or give the spoils I shall take -in my next battle to the church, or I would, when I shall be -able, endow an abbey. Either of these designs would be -satisfactory,” continued he, “and oh that I had the -good luck to be able to put them into execution! Oh that -some friendly spirit, some gnome of these caverns, or demon of -this forest, would but come to my assistance!” No -sooner said than done: the sinner trembled at the instant -fulfilment of his wicked wish, and began with real alarm to -suspect that he was a bit of a conjurer himself; for there arose -in a moment, from the bosom of the earth, a gigantic -dusky-looking figure in the human shape, inquiring his -commands. “I could not come to your -assistance,” said the object, “till you summoned me, -or you should not have suffered so long. I am the mortal -foe of the Yellow Dwarf, and the legitimate prince of these -mines, into which he has intruded himself, during my absence on a -short journey I made to the centre. He has fixed himself -pretty firmly in my palace by his spells, but I shall contrive to -dispossess him. I will begin by assisting you; speak, -knight of Tecklenburgh, how can I serve you?” -Ludolph, who, recovered from his first fright, desired nothing -better, immediately struck a bargain with the friendly gnome; the -first article of which was, that he should liberate himself and -the princess. <a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -72</span>“I can free you instantly,” replied the -gnome, “but the spells around the princess are too powerful -to be suddenly broken; nevertheless, with your help it may -finally be done. We must possess ourselves of the charm in -which lies the power of the Dwarf, this, unfortunately, is his -beard; for it will be a work of difficulty to master it. -Could you, in your combat, have cut off that, instead of his -head, all would have been well: but, as long as that beard hangs -to his chin, his body is invulnerable, for, cut him into fifty -pieces and he will unite together again. Notwithstanding -all these difficulties, observe faithfully all my directions, -and, ultimately we may accomplish our wishes. Beneath those -mountains of Bohemia which bound the marquisate of Misnia, there -is a diamond mine, as yet unknown to the human race, whose -sacrilegious hands have not there torn open the heart of their -mother earth and disturbed the spirits who sleep in her -bosom. There, concealed many fathoms beneath the mountain, -has been hidden for centuries the magic weapon which alone can -conquer the Yellow Dwarf. It is that identical pair of -scissors with which the demon Fate cuts asunder your mortal -destinies; these, and these only, can secure our enemy. It -will be in vain to cut off his head so long as he retains his -beard, and that beard is unapproachable, except to the magic -scissors of fate: the chief difficulty will be in obtaining -possession of this wonderful instrument, since only a knight of -unstained loyalty, pure, spotless, free from taint of -libertinism, drunkenness, and bloodshed, can take them from the -hands of the statue which holds them, without incurring the -severe penalty of instant death. When such a knight shall -be found, the <a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -73</span>scissors must be put into the hands of a spotless -virgin, for only such can use them in cutting off the formidable -beard; should any other woman attempt it, the inevitable -consequences would be also death from the scissors -themselves.” Poor Ludolph was as much depressed by -the end of this discourse as he had been elevated by the -beginning. Such a knight it was indeed next to impossible -to find. He himself was as good and true as most; his -loyalty was indeed unstained, he had not shed blood in murderous -or treacherous manner; but he had been too frequently engaged in -his father’s petty, and often unjustifiable wars, to -undertake an enterprise that demanded hands free from -stain. Then as to drunkenness, alas! for poor Ludolph, -though naturally a very sober man, he knew he had too often -shared many a “t’other flask,” and too -frequently drowned his fears of the abbot of Fulda in the big -bowl of Tecklenburgh, to permit him any chance of success in the -achievement. In his own person, therefore, he gave it -directly up, satisfied of his incapacity from the fore-mentioned -weaknesses, without carrying his self-examination any further, -but at the same time almost despairing of finding a -substitute. “For the spotless virgin, friendly -gnome,” said the honest Westphalian, “there I have -better hopes, since there are enough at court, and I shall find -this part of my task easy enough.” “Not quite -so easy as you imagine, knight,” replied the gnome, -“since there is not an unmarried lady in all Thuringia who -will not lay claim to that honour, and you may thus be the -innocent cause of the death of many; but I can assist you here, -and make this part of the undertaking much less difficult. -Here is a magic girdle; obtain permission to try it, without <a -name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 74</span>speaking of -its virtues, upon the ladies of the margrave’s court. -Should the dame who should buckle it on be a deceiver, the girdle -though now appearing of large size, will shrink into the smallest -compass, and will not even encircle her slender waist: should the -lady be the object of your search, it will set closely and -gracefully to her form.” “A thousand -thanks,” replied the honest knight; “I have no fears -for my success in this point, and perhaps I may be more fortunate -than I expect in the other. Now then, generous friend, -accomplish your kind intention, release me from this dungeon, and -I will immediately hasten to Eisenac and seek a maiden who may -assist to break these abominable enchantments.” -“I will,” replied the spirit, “but do not -forget that to other eyes as well as Brunilda’s, you still -wear the form of the Yellow Dwarf; this is occasioned by three -orange-coloured hairs, from his formidable beard, tied round your -right arm; unloose them, and you will appear to others as you do -to yourself and me. Be under no alarm for the safety of the -princess, since I have already prevented your enemy’s -entering her presence without her permission, and will still -continue to watch over her.” The knight again thanked -the gnome for his friendly care, and shutting his eyes, by -command of his companion, and opening them again the next -instant, found himself, to his infinite joy, standing near the -Orange Tree, round which his horse was quietly grazing. He -soon sprang lightly into his saddle, and turned his head from the -wood, determined to reach Eisenac ere daybreak. With this -resolution he spurred on gaily, thinking of the joy he should -feel upon liberating his beloved Brunilda, when, in a turn of the -wood, he suddenly encountered <a name="page75"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 75</span>a troop of knights in the livery of -the Yellow Dwarf. A cold shivering seized him, for he -expected to be dragged back neck and heels to the Orange Tree, -when, to his utter astonishment, they all lowly saluted and made -way for him to pass. He now remembered that he had not yet -removed the orange-coloured hairs from his arm, and, feeling -himself indebted to this circumstance, for his safety resolved to -let them remain till he should be quite out of the infernal -forest. Dwelling fondly upon his hopes and brightening -prospects, the young morning sun found him entering Eisenac, -where he was greeted with a loud shout by a troop of boys, who -seemed to recognise an old acquaintance. Soon the boy crowd -was augmented by a multitude of citizens, who surrounded Ludolph, -yelling like fiends, seized his bridle, pinioned his arms, and -saluted him with a dreadful volley of curses. -“Sorcerer, robber, demon!” rung in his ears in all -directions, and, while the uproar raged in its greatest violence, -he was dragged from his horse, and thrown on the ground. At -this extraordinary treatment, the count demanded to be conducted -to the margrave, to the princess Margaret. He was told that -the court had quitted Eisenac, but they were resolved to burn him -alive in revenge for his treatment of their beloved princess, and -the noble count Ludolph, her destined husband. Solomon -said, that “fear is nothing else than a betraying the -succours which reason offereth;” and, in this case, it was -most truly so, for the knight’s agitation in the first part -of the attack, had made him forget in time to remove the -orange-coloured hairs from his arm. Their last exclamation -had shewn him their mistake, and his own fatal imprudence. -Now he found that he was in danger of being <a -name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>burnt alive -for the sins of the execrable Dwarf, unless he could immediately -free himself from the charm. “Hear me, dear -friends,” he cried, “I am truly the unhappy Ludolph, -but your eyes are bewitched by the sorceries of that abominable -demon, and you see me only under his resemblance; release my arms -for one moment, and I will convince you.” At this -insult to their understandings, the wise men of Eisenac set up a -most tremendous howl, and were still more anxious to collect -faggots for his service. They kicked, buffeted, and reviled -his person till he was almost delirious with rage, and the -foamings of his indignation confirmed them in their belief that -he really was, what he appeared, the demon of the Orange -Tree. During one of the pauses made by his guards to listen -to his earnest entreaties for a moment’s liberty, he found -means to disengage his hands from their grasp, tore open his -sleeve, and furiously rending away the slight bandage of hair, -stood before them in his own proper person. Astonishment -for a moment tied up the tongues of the assembly, but quickly -recovering themselves before Ludolph could gain time to explain, -they declared it a new piece of sorcery, and swore that the form -of their gallant favourite should not shield the wizard who they -firmly believed was his murderer. The magistrates and -officers of Eisenac, aroused by the news of the seizure of the -demon Dwarf, had assembled upon the spot, and startled by the -wonders they now heard, trembled to think of the consequences of -the unbridled fury of the mob, should the story told by the -equivocal knight be really true. Anxious to avoid the -spilling of innocent blood, they proposed conveying him to <a -name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>prison, and -awaiting the decision of the margrave; but the people anticipated -a sight, and rather than lose so excellent a joke as that of -roasting a sorcerer, they would willingly have run the hazard of -sacrificing even Ludolph himself. But the magistrates, much -to their honour, continued firm, and, through their interference, -poor Ludolph, who already felt the flames crackling under him, -with much difficulty obtained permission to say a few words to -them in defence. “Noble magistrates and discerning -judges,” said the mob-hunted count of Tecklenburgh, -“I trust that you will believe that I am really myself as I -declare to you by my knighthood I am. As for the Yellow -Dwarf, a curse on him, I am his victim, not his ally; since it is -from his infernal enchantments, and still more infernal malice, -all my misfortunes have arisen. How you can for a moment -imagine that I could be his friend because I have been unlucky -enough to appear under his odious form, I am at a loss to -imagine, since nobody surely can possibly believe such a -transformation to be a matter of choice.” The female -part of the audience perfectly agreed with the last observation -of Ludolph, and the magistrates, puzzled by the sincerity with -which he had delivered his remonstrance, determined to save him, -at least from the fire and the faggots. But, as the people -had expected a show, thought the wise men of Eisenac, “a -show they must have,” or the consequences, they knew, of -their disappointment in an affair so essential to their -well-being, might not be entirely insignificant to their -betters. So, while acquitting him, in their consciences, of -being the Yellow Dwarf, and forbidding the animating use of fire -and faggots, they condemned <a name="page78"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 78</span>him to be put to the ban, as a -nobleman, for dabbling in a little private sorcery in conjunction -with the demon, in whose villainous shape he had just -appeared. No sooner was this righteous sentence pronounced -against the unlucky Ludolph, than he was seized by the soldiers -and followed by all the crowd, who, anxious to join in the fun, -exhibited many a practical witticism at his expense, and cracked -all their superfluous jokes upon his unfortunate person: then -stripping him of his armour and knightly accoutrements, and -clothing him in raw and filthy goatskins, they set him upon a -sorry mule with his face toward the tail, and led him through the -town, the herald proclaiming before him, “We declare thy -wife, if thou hast one, a widow, thy children, if thou hast any, -orphans, and we send thee, in the name of the devil, to the four -corners of the earth.” Thus sent upon a long voyage, -with such a friendly benediction, it would not have been -wonderful if the heart of the knight had sunk with his -circumstances, which any heart would have done except a -Westphalian one, but that was employed in swelling with -indignation, and meditating the best mode of returning the -compliments of the Eisenac mobility. While thus occupied, -he heard a voice close to his ear, which whispered, “Attend -to my orders, and you are safe.” He looked earnestly -in the direction of the sound, and saw, to his infinite -satisfaction, the dusky face of his friend the gnome beneath the -helmet of a soldier. “Let these people continue to -believe you the Yellow Dwarf,” continued the spirit; -“it is the only way to preserve you from suspicion in your -real character; here are the hairs which, in your haste, you -threw away. <a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -79</span>Resist not while I tie them round your arm, and leave -the rest to me.” Ludolph sat silent while, under the -appearance of a new insult, his instructor twisted the light band -round his arm, and the shrieks of the people a moment after -announced that the charm had taken effect upon their -senses. “It is the sorcerer,” they cried, -“the horrible Dwarf—seize him, tear him, burn -him!” But, for this time, their kind intentions were -completely frustrated, for the gnome, entering into the sorry -mule which carried the prisoner, communicated to his worn-out -frame such inconceivable vigour and rapidity, that a few minutes -were sufficient to bear his rider far beyond the pursuit of his -enemies, who remained in the market-place, staring after the -beast and cursing the Yellow Dwarf. The representative of -that malignant little demon was meanwhile receiving a few drops -of a powerful cordial from the hand of his friend the gnome of -the mine, who politely apologised for not knowing earlier the -mischiefs into which his dear crony had fallen,—owing, -however, entirely to his own excessive carelessness, which he -should never have suspected. “And, in truth,” -continued the friendly spirit, “I concluded you were safe -at the margrave’s court which is at Weimar, and whither I -had intended to follow you. Passing over Eisenac, I rested -to know the meaning of the tumult I witnessed, and was just in -time to rescue you from the rage of the mob, who would not have -quitted their prey, even after the soldiers should have set you -at liberty. Here,” continued the gnome, giving him a -heavy bag of coin, a most welcome present to a half-naked knight -errant, “hasten to equip yourself according to your rank, -and lose no <a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -80</span>time in joining the court at Weimar, where you must -select a damsel to conclude the adventure ere Brunilda can -recover her liberty, or you be freed from the malice of the -Yellow Dwarf.” Ludolph heartily thanked his good -friend, though he could not help thinking it would have been as -well if his assistance had been tendered some few hours -earlier. But still, better late than never, thought the -knight; and, though he received a few cuffs and many bitter -curses, yet hard words break no bones, and the cuffs he hoped one -day to repay with interest. In the interim his honour was -preserved by the contrivance of the gnome, as no man in Eisenac, -no, not even the sapient magistrates themselves, would ever -believe the creature they had pounded and worried so -unmercifully, was any other than the Yellow Dwarf himself. -Receiving from his hands once more the magic girdle which he had -lost in the confusion, he bade farewell to the gnome, who -promised to meet him in the forest, when he should have obtained -the magic scissors, upon which their success depended; and after -accoutring himself as became his condition, not this time -forgetting the three red hairs, he set forward once more for the -court of the margrave; and, he was by no means of a melancholy -complexion, his past misfortunes had no other effect upon his -spirits than elevating them to a joyous pitch for glee, that he -had so well escaped the dangers which he believed would have -ended more tragically. And thus gay, and hoping much from -the future, he arrived, without any further adventure, at the -palace of Weimar.</p> -<h3><a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -81</span>CHAPTER IV.</h3> -<blockquote><p>Ane gat a twist o’ the craig,<br /> -Ane gat a bunch o’ the wame,<br /> -Anither gat lam’d o’ a leg,<br /> -And syne he went bellowing hame.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> princess Margaret was overjoyed -once more to see her Brunilda’s lover, and she welcomed him -with the sincerest regard. She listened with burning -indignation to the account of the Dwarf’s treatment of his -captives, and to such other parts of his history as he thought -proper to relate; for he carefully suppressed, in the presence of -the court, his adventures at Eisenac and his release by the -gnome, lest the friendship of this good-natured spirit should -again subject him to the charge of sorcery; and as he had already -smelt fire at Eisenac, he was particularly anxious to avoid so -warm a reception elsewhere. He informed the good princess -that the girdle would only fit the damsel appointed by destiny to -break the enchantment, and of consequence all were anxious to try -it. Three of the most beautiful ladies in Misnia attempted, -but strange to relate, in vain, to fix on the magic cestus: it -shrunk to nothing round their forms, and Ludolph began again to -tremble for the fate of his poor Brunilda. In vain did the -most prudish ladies of the court present their slim forms to the -girdle,—it would not meet around them. Several of -those who had been most rigid in their own conduct, and most -bitterly virtuous in regard to that of others, took the girdle -with a devout air and blushing modesty, that quite revived the -hope of the Westphalian knight. Alas! the cestus not only -refused to clasp the waists of these <a name="page82"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 82</span>fair ones, but even flew right out of -their hands the moment they touched it; and this circumstance so -disheartened Ludolph, that he foolishly enough, ere above twenty -ladies had made the attempt, gossiped out the secret of its -virtues in the delighted ear of the princess Margaret. That -good lady thought the joke too excellent to be confined to so few -persons; and there being among the unlucky twenty some whose -beauty rivalled that of her beloved Brunilda, she lost no time in -publishing the secret, which had the effect of making them all -abhor Ludolph, and defeating the plans he was so anxious to carry -into effect; for now, not a single woman acquainted with the -virtue of the cestus would even try it on, and, instead of -laughing with the princess and Ludolph at the unlucky discovery -made by the twenty, they made, much to their honour, common cause -against them, and vowed to smother the mischievous knight -whenever they could conveniently catch hold of him. It -required all the authority of the margrave, who at this juncture -arrived at Weimar from the camp, to protect the unfortunate -knight from their vengeance, who began to be as much afraid of -these beautiful destroying angels as he had been of the -fire-loving devils of Eisenac, or even the Yellow Dwarf -himself. “Alas! I am surely the most -unfortunate of men,” said he to the margrave; “I have -been transformed to the detested shape of the Yellow Dwarf, for -wishing to deliver your sister out of his hands. I have -been near roasted alive for killing myself. I have been put -to the ban for suffering myself to be tormented by my powerful -enemy, and now I am in danger of being torn to pieces by the -loveliest women in the world, only for being anxious to find one -virgin in their company. Ah, my <a name="page83"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 83</span>poor Brunilda! what will become of -thee?” The margrave comforted the knight with the -assurance that he would certainly be successful, if he could but -prevail upon the ladies only to try on the girdle, and, in case -of their obstinacy, he advised him to put the magic scissors into -the hands of Brunilda herself, “For, if she be not worthy -to use them,” said the proud Frederic with the bitten -cheek, “she is not worthy of liberty, nor the tender love -you bear her. For the other conditions, I fear we must -despair, since I do believe there is not a knight in my court, no -not in all the courts of Germany, that will accept the challenge; -though against mortal foes, they are the bravest men in the -universe.” The margrave was right. Each knight -knew his own secret weakness too well to accept the office, when -the conditions were stated to them, no one being willing, as they -honestly avowed, to hazard an ignominious death, by disregarding -the injunctions of the gnome. There was not a man among -them who had not, at some time or other, offended by drunkenness, -licentiousness, or breaking heads in an unjust quarrel: indeed, -with regard to the latter peccadillo: it was scarcely possible, -in the time of which I am treating, for it to be otherwise, since -not only disputes of chivalry, and all injuries, whether public -or private, were settled by the sword, even cases of felony and -suits of law were arranged by the same expeditious decision; so -that he of the strongest arm and stoutest heart infallibly gained -his cause, whether right or wrong, as his adversary could no -longer contend, either for reputation or property, after the -dagger of mercy had been struck into his heart, or drawn quietly -across his throat.</p> -<p>But, to return to our good Westphalian and his <a -name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -84</span>difficulties. After many objections, disputings, -hopings, and fearings, the margrave at last found a salvo for -Ludolph, and a stainless knight for the service of the king of -the oranges. This was his own son, a boy of ten years old, -upon whom, finding all other hope fail, he conferred the honour -of knighthood, and released him from his martial studies, in -which the gallant child spent all his time, and sent him to -handle the shears of Atropus, and share in the glory of shaving -the orange-coloured beard of the execrable Dwarf. The -little knight Herman of Misnia was highly delighted by his -admittance to this post of honour, and attached himself fondly to -his good cousin Ludolph, who now began making preparations for -his march. So great was the terror inspired among the -people by the Yellow Dwarf, that it was with much difficulty he -could collect troops sufficient to defend the son of the margrave -upon this voyage of discovery, as all the nobles, knights, and -regulars of Thuringia, were gone to the camp in daily expectation -of an attack from the emperor Albert, who, having just been -overreached in his views upon Bohemia, by his good cousin Henry -of Carinthia, was advancing in no good humour upon the troops of -the margrave of Misnia. After a proclamation of some days, -in which Ludolph puffed the vast riches of the diamond mine with -almost as much skill as Day and Martin puff their blacking, a -number of strays from all parts of the empire gathered themselves -together under his standard; and though he could not boast of -commanding many of the nobles of Misnia, yet upon the whole, his -troop was about as respectable as David’s at the cave of -Adullam, when only those who were in debt, or distress, or -discontented, enrolled themselves <a name="page85"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 85</span>in his service. But great -endings spring from small beginnings. From the captain of -half-starved ragamuffins David became a king; and Ludolph hoped -that his regiment of black-guards would finally conduct him to -the feet of a princess. With this notion he set forward, -full of expectation, with the youthful knight committed to his -charge. On the road, fearful of any other delays, he -inspired his companions by dwelling, with affected rapture, upon -the spoils of the diamonds, which were so soon to be at their -service, in the sack of the mine. These observations acted -like electricity upon his respectable warriors, and sent them -galloping toward the confines so rapidly, that before he had -either hoped or expected it, they had arrived at the foot of the -mystic mountain, where the whole troop made a halt, to await the -return of Ludolph, who, with his young companion, was to descend -first into the caves, seize the scissors, and then leave the -coast clear for the plunderers to attack the mine. Matters -were soon settled. The two knights found the entrance with -some difficulty, and boldly descended into these dismal abodes, -the residence of the infernal spirits who were in the pay of the -Yellow Dwarf. After traversing many dreary caverns, they -entered the last, where, elevated on a golden pedestal, stood the -gigantic statue which held the scissors of fate, and was the -guardian of the life of the Yellow Dwarf. Forgetting, in -his joy at the sight, the caution of the gnome, he was advancing -towards the statue, when a tremendous box on the ear from the -marble fist, taught him to know his distance. He fell back -accordingly, and, young Herman of Misnia approaching, the statue -grinned as hideously at his protégé, but made no <a -name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 86</span>attempt to -injure the boy, as fearlessly he climbed the pedestal, and, -without any regard to the rights of property, grasped the magic -scissors, and brought them back in triumph. Ludolph -received them from his hands with the wildest sensation of -delight; but, prudence conquering his emotions, he took his young -preserver in his arms and retraced his way to daylight. -Here he was greeted with shouts of applause by the soldiers, who, -in spite of all the entreaties of Ludolph, persisted to ransack -the caves, pursuant to their original agreement. In vain -did he assure them the margrave’s enemies would furnish -more spoils for them than the vaults, and that his share should -be divided among them. Vainly did he describe the -threatening looks of the statue, and assure them he still felt -the tingling of the marble thump in his ear, with which he had -complimented him. It was talking to the winds, or, as old -Baker quaintly saith, “to as little purpose as if he had -gone about to call back yesterday.” Down they all -dashed together, neck and heels, with tremendous outcries, into -the diamond caverns. Their return was silent and orderly -enough. The cave of Trophonius could not have effected a -better or more expeditious change. They were all as grave -as judges, and every man appeared with his mouth twisted exactly -under his left ear. Ludolph could gain but little -information as to what had befallen them; all he understood was, -that they had seen the statue, who had given the first man such a -thundering slap of the face that its shock was felt by all the -rest of his companions, and left the consequences which he now -beheld, and which they had such good reasons to deplore. <a -name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 87</span>But, while -the knights of the scissors and their wry-mouthed confederates -are pursuing their road to Weimar, let us pop our heads under -ground and see what has become of Brunilda.</p> -<p>The poor princess, much disconcerted by the diabolical -contrivance of the Yellow Dwarf, gave way, when alone, to that -indulgence of grief which she resolutely suppressed in his -presence. She had encouraged the visits of the two Dwarfs, -in the tender hope that, though they afforded no consolation to -herself, they might yield some satisfaction to the bosom of her -tormented lover. This being the real state of her feelings, -she was deeply distressed when, the day after Ludolph’s -release by the gnome, they neglected to pay her the customary -visit, and therefore sent to request the presence of her -tyrant. He came, and in no very good humour, for he had -just failed in the effect of a spell, which he hoped would -discover the runaway. He told her, even more brutally than -usual, that Ludolph had escaped, that he was endeavouring to -discover him, and that in case he succeeded, of which he had no -doubt, he would immediately hang him, unless the princess would -save his life by giving her hand to his rival. Delighted by -the escape of the knight, Brunilda could not keep her joy to -herself, but expressed it so imprudently, and with such heartfelt -glee at the Dwarf’s vexation, that it irritated all the -bile in his little yellow body, and provoked him to have recourse -to his most powerful spells to discover the abode of -Ludolph. It was, luckily for the knight, a work of time and -difficulty, since the gnome of the mine was at hand to unravel -all his charms as fast as the other wrought them; and he was, by -this means, obliged to desist, in order <a -name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>to find the -invisible enemy who thus thwarted his plans and protected his -victim. The indefatigable gnome was still at his elbow, and -poor yellow-beard continued as much in the dark at the end of his -spells, as he had been at the beginning. All this gave the -knight time, which was what the gnome wanted, and the Dwarf -remained in ignorance of his movements, till the spirits, who -were the guardians of his talisman in the mountain caves, -informed him of his danger and the seizure of the magic -scissors. Such a contrivance as that of knighting a child -the demon never contemplated, but finding one half of the -adventure accomplished, he determined, as far as in him lay, to -prevent the achievement of the other. Learning by his -fiends, that he was threatened with danger from Brunilda, he made -it his principal care that the magic scissors should not be -wielded by her, and accordingly penned her up more closely than -ever, surrounding her by spells, not only inaccessible to -mortals, but even to his own attendant spirits, whom he would not -trust too far, lest his tyranny should have inspired them with -hatred to his person, and laxity in his service. Among his -equals in the demon world he well knew, and feared the -indignation of the gnome of the silver mines, whose territories -he had invaded, and before whose power, if joined to that of -other enemies, he would have good reasons to tremble. These -considerations determined his conduct, and, to prevent Brunilda -from handling the scissors, and the scissors from approaching his -beard, he devised a spell so potent, that he fondly hoped and -believed he was safe from the attacks of, and might bid defiance -to, all sorts of enemies, natural and supernatural.</p> -<p>In the mean time, Ludolph and his companions <a -name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>had arrived -at the court of Weimar, to the great joy of the margrave and his -mother, who, looking upon the adventure as nearly finished, -entreated Ludolph to lose no time in joining his friend the gnome -in the enchanted forest. He himself had no wish to delay -the business, and, after making one more unsuccessful attempt to -prevail upon the ladies of Misnia to try on the girdle, he set -off to present it to his lovely Brunilda: and, arriving near the -Orange Tree, was met by the friendly gnome. “It is -not yet in my power to introduce you to the presence of the -princess,” said he to the count, “as I have not yet -conquered the spells by which our enemy has surrounded her: the -cavern is inaccessible at present to any human foot, but it is -not in the power of the demon to limit my steps in the territory -of which I am the legitimate lord. His spirits are as -powerful as mine, and thus I am obliged to have recourse to -artifice to conquer him, which I should not be able to effect, if -he had not, by obtruding into my dominions, placed the secret in -my power. Unlike the free spirits who have existed from the -beginning of the world, and who will probably survive its -demolition, the Dwarf is mortal born, though, by magic spells, he -has lengthened his life many hundred years; but his birth -subjects him to death, which will be inevitable, should the -infernal power by which he has accomplished his purposes be -defeated. To prevent this catastrophe, he has placed his -life in a talisman, which he believes unconquerable, but which, I -trust, we shall overthrow. Caution is, however, necessary, -for his spells are mighty, and the spirits subjected to his -command are many. In the interim you shall rest here, and I -will provide for your necessities <a name="page90"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 90</span>till I shall be able to conduct you -to Brunilda, to whom you must explain the virtues of the scissors -of fate, for, by an immutable decree which no spirit dares -violate, I am restrained from appearing before her till she -herself shall summon me.” The gnome then raised a -comfortable tent for Ludolph, loaded it with provisions, drew a -line of protection about it, and vanished.</p> -<p>Three days passed tranquilly enough with Ludolph, while -patiently awaiting the re-appearance of his friend the gnome, but -the fourth was beginning to hang heavy, when the spirit entered -the tent in the middle of the night. “I -triumph,” said he; “I have unloosed the spell that -kept you from the presence of Brunilda. The Dwarf, being -mortal born, is subject to mortal necessities, and at this hour -he sleeps; rise and throw yourself at the feet of the princess; -give me your hand, and close your eyes.” Ludolph -obeyed, and the next moment found himself in the apartment of -Brunilda. As I, the honest chronicler of the loves of the -Westphalian knight and Misnian princess, am no great dealer in -sentiment, I shall omit all the particulars of the meeting, and -only say how truly happy Brunilda was to receive him, and how -grateful she felt towards the obliging gnome, whom she gladly -summoned to her presence. To the great relief of Ludolph, -who trembled and doubted grievously while making the proposal, -she had not the slightest objection, even after she was made -acquainted with its virtues, to try on the enchanted girdle, -which fitted her graceful form as if it had been purposely made -for her: her lover could not help commending the taste of the -Yellow Dwarf, and was as much overjoyed at this earnest of -success as if he held the demon’s <a -name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>beard in his -hand. The gnome then gave Brunilda the fatal scissors, and -telling them that the spirits of their enemy could not perceive -them, from the powerful spells by which they are surrounded, -desired them to follow his footsteps fearlessly to the inner -caverns, where slept the demon, and whom sleep would probably -render defenceless. Stretching out their necks and stepping -on tiptoe, the lovers followed the gnome to the private apartment -of the Dwarf, whom Brunilda anxiously hoped to serve in quality -of barber extraordinary. With beating hearts they beheld -their guide throw open the door of his chamber, and desire the -princess to advance, at the same time approaching the couch of -the demon, and drawing back his curtain. Brunilda obeyed; -mustering all her courage, and collecting a little army of -disagreeable remembrances to her aid, she found herself so -strengthened that, like Judith, she resolved to finish the -business with a single snip. But the Holofernes of Germany -had had more wit than his drunken predecessor, and had taken much -better care of his shaggy head; for the Judith of Misnia looked -in vain for the yellow beard that was to fall beneath the fatal -scissors. That <i>that</i> had disappeared was not -wonderful, since the face to which it formed such a remarkable -appendage had entirely vanished from the body. There lay -the carcase of the Dwarf, sleeping, it may be, but his head was -dozing in some other place, for the body was very quietly -reposing without it. Poor Brunilda shed tears of vexation, -and the gnome looked silly enough to find himself thus completely -outwitted; but knowing that he could find no remedy for the -disappointment by standing gaping at the <a -name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>demon’s -trunk, he drew the lovers from the chamber, conducted Ludolph -back to his tent, and again had recourse to his spells, which -told him that the Dwarf, fearful of surprise while disarmed by -sleep, took off his head every night, and concealed it in some -place of safety, but where he could not discover. This was -a vexatious incident; but “<i>ruse contre ruse</i>,” -thought the gnome, and to work he went with a fresh resolution to -outspell the yellow conjuror and liberate the lovers. In -the mean time the demon awoke from his invigorating slumber, and -hastened to replace his ugly head upon his shoulders, and then, -head and tail once more united, sat down to consider the -possibility of recapturing the knight of Tecklenburgh, in whose -hands, notwithstanding the success of his spells, he did not like -to leave the magic scissors. Brunilda, it is true, was safe -enough; but the Dwarf knew (though Ludolph could not discover -them) that there were more virgins than one in the Misnian court; -and that the count wanted neither eloquence to persuade such to -assist him, nor resolution to attack his enemy, when that -difficulty should be conquered. In the midst of these -cogitations he was aroused by a summons from the princess, who -had not permitted him to approach her since the day after -Ludolph’s departure: the little coxcomb was enchanted by -the message, and hastened to arrange his look in the most -becoming manner possible, ere he presented himself before the -eyes of his lovely captive. Brunilda was in tears when he -entered her apartment, and no sooner did she behold him than she -poured upon him such a torrent of reproach and abuse, that the -Dwarf, though in general tolerably well skilled in the use of -that cutting weapon the <a name="page93"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 93</span>tongue, stood utterly confounded, and -knew not what to reply. She accused him vehemently of the -murder of her lover, her dear Ludolph, which secret she said, had -been revealed to her in a dream by her patron saint that very -night, and she had therefore sent to him to accuse him to his -guilty face. The Dwarf listened in surprise; but this time -far from retorting with the usual bitterness upon Brunilda, he -was hugging himself in the notion that the patron saint might -have told the truth, and that Ludolph, whom all his arts had -failed to discover, might really be no longer an inhabitant of -the earth, in which case he flattered himself he might possibly -succeed him in the affections of the fair Brunilda, whose hand he -coveted no less than her brother’s lands, of which he -resolved to dispossess him whenever he should become the husband -of his sister. Full of these agreeable hopes and ideas, he -soothed the weeping princess as well as the ruggedness of his -nature would permit, and assured her, that though her lover was -dead, (a circumstance of which he averred he was well aware, -though compassion had hitherto prevented his informing her,) yet -he had no hand in his death, and would endeavour by every mark of -tenderness and attention to reconcile her to this inevitable -loss. Brunilda suffered herself to be comforted, and even -allowed his yellow lips to press her fair hand, which so -delighted the lover, that he released her from her severe -confinement, and permitted her to roam at large through the -caverns, and occupy her former apartment, where he continued to -visit her daily, and daily quitted her with the flattering hope -that he had at length discovered the mode of making himself -agreeable. Brunilda encouraged <a name="page94"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 94</span>this delightful dream by her changed -method of conduct; she ceased, after the first two interviews, -entirely to reproach the Dwarf, and permitting his devotions, she -gradually appeared to desire them, and even frequently -condescended to rally him upon the oddity of his dress, and the -old-fashioned cut of his hood: he immediately adopted another to -gratify her taste, and was exceedingly vain of the notice she -took of him. She admired his flowing hair, and even his -long beard had ceased to be an object of disgust to her: every -thing became beautiful by custom, she said; and she now -discovered, what her indignation before had prevented her from -observing, that the colour of his beard was the same as that of -her great grandfather the emperor Frederic II., who was -universally accounted a very handsome man. The Dwarf -smirked, bridled, and was equally delighted with Brunilda and -himself, since he now hoped no further opposition on her part -would be offered to his proposals: he grew excessively fond of, -and very indulgent to the princess, suffering her to command in -his caverns, and taking great delight in exhibiting to her the -riches of which she was so soon to be mistress. In all -ages, among all nations, flattery has ever been the shortest and -surest road to the human heart; and men, however they may affect -to smile at this weakness in the gentler sex, are not, whether -giants, middle-sized men, or dwarfs, one whit less subject to -this poor human frailty than the ladies themselves, in whom it is -so pardonable.</p> -<p>If Eve yielded to the compliments of the serpent, Sampson was -subdued by the witching coaxing of Delilah; the sage Solomon -drank flattery from the <a name="page95"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 95</span>lips of seven hundred wives (Heaven -pardon the old monopoliser!) and concubines; Holofernes lost his -head for listening to the seducing tongue of Judith; and the -mighty Nebuchadnezzar was not sent to grass for any other reason -than swallowing down too plentiful a dose of this bewitching -opiate: of all these gentlefolks, Eve was certainly least -blameable; for it required diabolical power to turn her from the -path of right, but the men sunk their virtue before the lustre of -black eyes or the gorgeousness of costly attire. As for -profane story—O the tens and the fifties that might be -enumerated!—but as this is not our present business, let us -leave them to see what effect this pleasant medicine, so gently -administered, had upon the little Dwarf. He was, in truth, -the happiest of all yellow men; for, deceived by the tranquillity -of his life and the strength of his spells, he believed his enemy -had given up the task of conquering him, and left him to wear his -beard in quiet. Brunilda still continued amiable, and heard -him frequently, without any marks of indignation, express his -hope that, when the time of her sorrowful mourning for the count -of Tecklenburgh should be over, she would listen with compassion -to a truer lover. She neither checked nor encouraged these -expectations; and the happy demon determined not to forfeit her -affections by any precipitation on his part. All this -amiable conduct, however, on the part of Brunilda, was in fact -but a contrivance of the friendly gnome, who thus hoped to extort -by her means the secret of his nightly pillow from himself. -According to the plan agreed upon by the allies, the gnome, at -this period of his enemy’s courtship, began again to -disturb and puzzle him by his enchantments; and he <a -name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>succeeded in -discomposing the harmony of his feelings so much, that he was -obliged to have recourse to Brunilda, and (secure of her -attachment to his person) vent all his complaints and vexations -in her compassionating bosom. <i>She</i> was all -astonishment at the cruel designs projected against her Dwarf by -his ungenerous enemies; she implored him pathetically to take -care of his head, (a request with which he graciously promised to -comply, more for her sake than his own,) and exhibited such -anxiety to know if his precautions were sufficient, that the -Dwarf almost betrayed his secret, overcome by the excessive -vanity her conduct was so well calculated to inspire. -Relaxing from his habitual caution, he was about to inform her of -some arrangements of his spells, when Brunilda, overacting the -part assigned to her, entreated him, if he valued her happiness, -to commit his precious head every night to her keeping, promising -to guard it with the utmost tenderness and care. At this -imprudent request, all his suspicions returned; he eyed Brunilda -askance, and gravely told her that, even were she his bride, he -could not grant her desire, as it had always been his opinion -that the less wives were trusted with the care of their -husbands’ heads the better. He left her surlily: he -had himself told her of his headless rest, but he did not expect -such a request would follow his information; and Brunilda, -alarmed by the consequences of her ill-timed petition, summoned -the gnome of the mine to her presence. He chid her -precipitation, but gave her a small vial containing a delicious -cordial, which should repair the mischief. “You may -have observed,” said he, “that the Dwarf neither eats -nor drinks of your food: prevail upon him once <a -name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 97</span>to sup at -your table, and pour a few drops of this cordial into his drink: -he must take it willingly, or it will have no effect. In -the sleep which follows the enchanted draught, he will be partly -in my power, and compelled to answer any question you may propose -to him. I need not direct you what to ask; but should he -reply according to our wishes, summon me to your side, and the -business is done.” The gnome gave her the potion, and -vanished; while Brunilda diligently applied herself to remove the -suspicions of the Dwarf. In a few days she completely -succeeded; and the flattered demon, on hearing her frequently -complain of the insipidity of supping alone, requested permission -to attend her at table during her supper. This request was -readily granted, and the visit constantly repeated by the Dwarf, -who at length, at her earnest entreaty, consented to partake of -her repast. This was continued till all suspicion was -removed from the mind of the Dwarf; and in one of his happiest -moods she insisted upon his pledging her in wine: he obeyed, and, -with the contents of the bowl, swallowed the magic cordial. -With what anxiety did Brunilda count the hours till she deemed -the Dwarf had retired to rest; how she trembled as she quitted -her chamber for that of her tyrant, whose beard, ere day-break, -she hoped, would be the reward of her courage! With a -beating heart she entered his apartment, and stepping up to him, -demanded in a trembling voice—“Dwarf of the Orange -Tree where hast thou hidden thy head?” The stubborn -carcase made no reply to this straight-forward question; and -Brunilda shivered from head to foot as she considered the -possibility of his not yet being asleep, and both hearing and <a -name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>understanding -her question. “Should it be so, I am indeed utterly -undone,” said poor Brunilda; “for how shall I be able -to deceive him again, since he must now be aware of my -motives.” Another reflection brought more comfort: -she recollected, that as the head only can hear, so the head only -can answer questions; and she determined to walk quietly through -all the caverns, and repeat the question in each. She had -but a short time allowed her for action, as the Dwarf was an -early riser, and she lost none in putting her scheme into -execution. Away she sallied, quick as anxiety would allow -her; unwearied she pursued her task, but ranged through every -apartment of the subterranean palace without obtaining an -answer. She almost thought the Dwarf had removed his head -further off, when, passing through a dismal-looking hole in which -were two iron pillars, she paused to repeat the -charm—“Dwarf of the Orange Tree, where hast thou -hidden thy head?” “Here,” replied a -well-known voice; “here, in the pillar on your left -hand.” Brunilda started at the sound, but quickly -recovered her spirits, and turning to the east, summoned, as -agreed upon, her coadjutors to her assistance—“Gnome -of this mine, I call thee hither: bring with thee my lover, and -the magic scissors of fate.” In the next instant her -friends were at her side, and the scissors glittered in her -hand. She explained in few words the happy result of her -enterprise; the gnome struck the pillar with his mace, the massy -substance divided, and the ugly head of her detested jailer -rolled at the feet of the delighted Brunilda, who, without any -apology, seized it and began most nimbly to ply the magic -scissors. At that moment, the Dwarf, awakened by the <a -name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 99</span>near approach -of morning, flew to replace his head upon his shoulders, and -discovered, with the utmost rage and alarm, the intruders upon -his premises. The opened eyes of the head now directed the -motions of the body, which rushed forward and bounced upon them -so suddenly, that Brunilda shrieked and dropped the head, only -retaining a grasp of the beard. The Dwarf as nimbly caught -it, and endeavoured to wrest it from her; but the princess, -invigorated by despair and the exclamations of her friends, kept -fast hold of it, and struggled stoutly with the demon. The -gnome lent her his assistance, in holding the head for her -scissors, while Ludolph kept shoving, thrusting, and hacking with -his sword at the invulnerable demon, in the hope of obliging him -to loosen his grasp of his head. The struggle continued -some minutes, the Dwarf pulling, Ludolph shoving, and Brunilda, -utterly regardless of the scratches he was liberally bestowing -upon her lover, cutting away at the yellow beard with all her -might and main. At length she observed, that the longer she -cut the weaker grew the resistance of the demon, and this gave -new force to her delicate fingers; she snipped on till the last -hair was separated from the chin, and the yellow head and -deformed body both fell senseless together upon the ground. -Brunilda was quietly looking upon her fallen enemy, when the -magic instrument of her success suddenly sprung from her hand, -and she beheld the scissors of fate gliding away rapidly through -the air, as if borne off by an invisible spirit. The -friendly gnome then conducted the lovers to the margrave’s -court, (after demanding from Brunilda the magic belt, which he -said would be too dangerous a weapon <a name="page100"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 100</span>in the hand of a lady,) and a few -weeks after the battle of Luckow, in which the margrave was -successful, they were united, to the great joy of all parties, -but more particularly of those who expected to be invited to the -wedding dinner. But that dinner! O that dinner! why -what a glory of gastronomy were the dishes! There was the -porpoise stewed in his own oil; beeves roasted whole; and proudly -pre-eminent, even among them, the noble wild boar, the standard -dish of Germany, showed his grinning tusks, now no longer -formidable; roasted cranes, standing upon their long legs, seemed -just stepping out of their platters, making a “pretty -drollery;” there was the knightly peacock, the bird of -chivalry, dressed out in his brilliant feathers; the stately -swan, sailing about in his golden dish; while herons, turkeys, -geese, and such small fry graced the magnificent board in quality -of side dishes. In short, as the newspapers said, -“there were all the delicacies of the season,” which -the nobles washed down with floods of Rhenish, until they did not -know what they were swallowing. The day was happier than it -was long, for all thought its felicity was too short-lived, -except Ludolph and his princess, who had many still brighter; as -long years of happiness was the reward of the few months of -suffering. The gnome of the mine returned to his recovered -territories, and, as he had now no farther occasion for their -services, never since that time interfered in the concerns of -mortals. The princess Margaret lived to a good old age, and -died at last in the odour of sanctity, eschewing evil, Satan, -sin, and the yellow Demon of the Orange Tree.</p> -<h2><a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span>DER -FREISCHUTZ:<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">OR,</span><br /> -THE MAGIC BALLS.</h2> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">FROM THE -GERMAN OF A. APEL.</span></p> -<blockquote><p>Black spirits and white,<br /> -Blue spirits and grey,<br /> -Mingle, mingle, mingle,<br /> -You that mingle may.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Listen</span>, dear wife,” -said Bertram, the forester of Lindenhayn, to his good and -faithful Anne; “listen, I beseech you, one moment. -You know I have ever done my utmost to make you happy, and will -still continue to do so; but this project is out of the -question. I entreat you, do not encourage the girl any -farther in the notion; settle the matter decidedly at once, and -she will only drop a few silent tears, and then resign herself to -my wishes; but by these silly delays nothing rational can be -effected.”</p> -<p>“But, dearest husband,” objected the coaxing wife, -“may not Catherine be as happy with William the clerk as -with Robert the gamekeeper? Indeed you do not know him: he -is so clever, so good, so kind—”</p> -<p><a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -102</span>“But no marksman,” interrupted the -forester. “The situation which I hold here has been -possessed by my family for more than two hundred years, and has -always descended down in a straight line from father to -son. If, instead of this girl, Anne, you had brought me a -boy, all would have been well; and the wench, if she had been in -existence, might have chosen for her bridegroom him whom she -loved best; now the thing is impossible. My son-in-law must -also be my successor, and must therefore be a marksman. I -shall have, in the first place, some trouble to obtain the trial -for him; and in the second, if he should not succeed, truly, I -shall have thrown my girl away: so a clever huntsman she shall -have. But observe, if you do not like him, I do not exactly -insist upon Robert: find another active clever fellow for the -girl, I will resign my situation to him, and we shall pass the -rest of our lives free from anxiety and happily with our -children. But hush!—not another word!—I beseech -you let me hear no more of the steward’s clerk.”</p> -<p>Mother Anne was silenced; she would fain have said a few more -words in favour of poor William, but the forester, who was too -well acquainted with the power of female persuasion, gave her no -further opportunity; he took down his gun, whistled his dog, and -strode away to the forest. The next moment, the fair curled -head of Catherine, her face radiant with smiles, was popped in at -the door—“Is all right, dear mother?” said -she. “Alas! no, my child; do not rejoice too -soon;” replied the sorrowing Anne. “Your father -speaks kindly, but he has determined to give you to nobody but a -huntsman; and I know he will not change his mind.” -Catherine <a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -103</span>wept, and declared she would sooner die than wed any -other than her own William. Her mother wept, fretted, and -scolded by turns; till at length it was finally determined to -make another grand attack upon the tough heart of old Bertram; -and in the midst of a deliberation respecting the manner in which -this was to be effected, the rejected lover entered the -apartment.</p> -<p>When William had heard the cause of the forester’s -objection,—“Is that all, my Catherine,” said -he, pressing the weeping girl to his bosom; “then keep up -your spirits, dearest, for I will myself become a forester. -I am not unacquainted with woodcraft, for I was, when a boy, -placed under the care of my uncle, the chief forester -Finsterbuch, in order to learn it, and only at the earnest -request of my uncle the steward, I exchanged the shooting-pouch -for the writing-desk. Of what use,” continued the -lover, “would his situation and fine house be to me, if I -cannot carry my Catherine there as the mistress of it? If -you are not more ambitious than your mother, dearest, and William -the gamekeeper will be as dear to you as William the steward, I -will become a woodsman directly; for the merry life of a forester -is more delightful to me than the constrained habits of the -town.”</p> -<p>“O dear, dear William,” said Catherine,—all -the dark clouds of sorrow sweeping rapidly over her countenance, -and leaving only a few drops of glittering sunny rain, sparkling -in her sweet blue eyes,—“O beloved William! if you -will indeed do this, all may be well: hasten to the forest, seek -my father, and speak to him ere he have time to pass his word to -Robert.” “Away,” replied William, -“to the forest; I will seek him out, and offer my services -as gamekeeper: fear nothing, <a name="page104"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 104</span>Catherine; give me a gun, and now -for the huntsman’s salute.”</p> -<p>What success he had in his undertaking was soon visible to the -anxious eye of Catherine, on her father’s return with him -from the forest. “A clever lad, that William,” -said the old man; “who would have expected such a shot in a -townsman? I’ll speak to the steward myself to-morrow; -it would be a thousand pities such a marksman should not stick to -the noble huntsman craft. Ha! ha! he will become a second -Kuno. But do you know who Kuno was?” demanded he of -William.</p> -<p>The latter replied in the negative.</p> -<p>“Look you there now!” ejaculated Bertram; “I -thought I had told you long since. He was my ancestor, the -first who possessed this situation. He was originally a -poor horseboy in the train of the knight of Wippach; but he was -clever, obliging, grew a favourite, and attended his master every -where, to tournaments and hunting parties. Once his knight -accompanied the duke on a grand hunting match, at which all the -nobles attended. The hounds chased a huge stag towards -them, upon whose back, to their great astonishment, sat tied a -human being, shrieking aloud in a most frightful manner. -There existed at that period, among the feudal lords, an inhuman -custom of tying unhappy wretches who incurred their displeasure -(perhaps by slight transgressions against the hunting laws) upon -stags, and then driving them into the forest to perish miserably -by hunger, or at least to be torn to pieces by the -brambles. The duke was excessively enraged at this sight, -and offered immense rewards to any one who would shoot the stag; -but clogged his benefactions with <a name="page105"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 105</span>death to the marksman, should his -erring bullet touch the victim, whose life he was desirous to -preserve, in order to ascertain the nature of his offence. -Startled by the conditions, not one of the train attempted the -rescue of the poor wretch, till Kuno, pitying his fate, stepped -forward and boldly offered his services. The duke having -accepted them he took his rifle, loaded it in God’s name, -and earnestly recommending the ball to all the saints and angels -in heaven, fired steadily into the bush in which he believed the -stag had taken refuge. His aim was true; the animal -instantly sprung out, plunged to the earth, and expired; but the -poor culprit escaped unhurt, except that his hands and face were -miserably torn by the briers. The duke kept his word well, -and gave to Kuno and his descendants for ever this situation of -forester. But envy naturally follows merit, and my good -ancestor was not long in making the discovery. There were -many of the duke’s people who had an eye to this situation, -either for themselves or some cousin or dear friend, and these -persuaded their masters that Kuno’s wonderful success was -entirely owing to sorcery; upon which, though they could not turn -him out of his post, they obtained an order that every one of his -descendants should undergo a trial of his skill before he could -be accepted; but which, however, the chief forester of the -district, before whom the essay is made, can render as easy or -difficult as he pleases. I was obliged to shoot a ring out -of the beak of a wooden bird, which was swung backwards and -forwards; but I did not fail, any more than my forefathers; and -he who intends to succeed me, and wed my Catherine, must be at -least as good a marksman.”</p> -<p><a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -106</span>William, who had listened very attentively, was -delighted with this piece of family history; he seized the old -man’s hand, and joyously promised to become, under his -direction, the very first of marksmen; such as even grandfather -Kuno himself should have no cause to blush for.</p> -<p>Scarcely had fourteen happy days passed over his head, ere -William was settled as gamekeeper in the forester’s house; -and Bertram, who became fonder of him every day, gave his formal -consent to his engagement with Catherine. It was, however, -agreed that their betrothment should be kept secret until the day -of the marksman’s trial, when the forester expected to give -a greater degree of splendour to his family festival by the -presence of the duke’s commissary. The bridegroom -swam in an ocean of delight, and so entirely forgot himself and -the whole world in the sweet opening heaven of love, that Bertram -frequently insisted, that he had not been able to hit a single -mark since he had aimed so successfully at Catherine.</p> -<p>And so it really was. From the day of his happy -betrothment, William had encountered nothing but disasters while -shooting. At one time his gun missed fire; at another, when -he aimed at a deer, he lodged the contents of his rifle in the -trunk of a tree: when he came home, and emptied his -shooting-pouch, instead of partridges, rooks and crows, and in -lieu of hares, dead cats. The forester at length grew -seriously angry, and reproved him harshly for his carelessness: -even Catherine began to tremble for the success of the -master-shot.</p> -<p>William redoubled his diligence, but to no purpose; the nearer -the approach of the important day, the more alarming grew his -misfortunes; every <a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -107</span>shot missed. At length he was almost afraid to -fire a gun, lest he should do some mischief; for he had already -lamed a cow and almost killed the cowherd.</p> -<p>“I insist upon it,” said the gamekeeper Rudolph, -one evening, to the party, “I insist upon it that some -wizard has bewitched William, for such things could not happen -naturally; therefore let us endeavour to loosen the -charm.”—“Superstitious stuff!” -interrupted Bertram, angrily; “an honest woodsman should -not even think of such trash. Do you forget the three -things which a forester ought to have, and with which he will -always be successful, in spite of sorcery? Come, to your -wits, answer my query.” “That can I -truly,” answered Rudolph; “he should have great -skill, a keen dog, and a good gun.” -“Enough,” said Bertram; “with these three -things every charm may be loosened, or the owner of them is a -dunce and no shot.”</p> -<p>“Under favour, father Bertram,” said William, -“here is my gun; what have you to object against it? and as -for my skill, I do not like to praise myself, but I think I am as -fair a sportsman as any in the country; nevertheless, it seems as -if all my balls went crooked, or as if the wind blew them away -from the barrel of my gun. Only tell me what I shall -do. I am willing to do any thing.” “It is -singular,” muttered the forester, who did not know what -else to say.</p> -<p>“Believe me, William,” again began Rudolph, -“it is nothing but what I have said. Try only once: -go on a Friday, at midnight, to a cross road, and make a circle -round you with the ramrod, or with a bloody sword, which must be -blessed three times, in the name of -Sammiel.”—“Silence!” interrupted <a -name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 108</span>Bertram, -angrily: “know ye whose name that is? he is one of the -fiend’s dark legion. God protect us and every -Christian from him!” William crossed himself -devoutly, and would hear nothing further, though Rudolph still -maintained his opinion. He passed the night in cleaning his -gun, and examining minutely every screw, resolving, at dawn of -day once more to sally forth, and try his fortune in the -forest. He did so, but, alas! in vain. Mischiefs -thickened round him: at ten paces distance he fired three times -at a deer; twice his gun missed fire, and although it went off -the third time, yet the stag bounded away unhurt into the midst -of the forest. Full of vexation, he threw himself under a -tree, and cursed his fate, when suddenly a rustling was heard -among the bushes, and a queer-looking soldier with a wooden leg -came hopping out from among them.</p> -<p>“Holloa! huntsman,” he began, laughing at the -disconsolate-looking William, “what is the matter with -you? Are you in love, or is your purse empty, or has any -body charmed your gun? Come, don’t look so blank; -give me a pipe of tobacco, and we’ll have a chat -together.”</p> -<p>William sullenly gave him what he asked, and the soldier threw -himself down in the grass by the side of him. The -conversation naturally turned upon woodcraft, and William related -his misfortunes to him. “Let me see your gun,” -said the soldier. William gave it. “It is -assuredly bewitched,” said he of the wooden leg, the moment -he had taken it in his hand; “you will not be able to fire -a single shot with it; and if they have done it according to -rule, it will be the same with every gun you shall take into your -hands.”</p> -<p><a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -109</span>William was startled; he endeavoured to raise -objections against the stranger’s belief in witches, but -the latter offered to give him a proof of the justice of his -opinions. “To us soldiers,” said he, -“there is nothing strange; and I could tell you many -wonderful things, but which would detain us here till -night. But look here, for instance: this is a ball which is -sure of hitting its mark, because it possesses some particular -virtue: try it; you won’t miss.” William loaded -his gun, and looked around for an object to aim at. A large -bird of prey hovered high above the forest, like a moving -dot;—“Shoot that kite,” said the one-legged -companion. William laughed at his absurdity, for the bird -was hovering at a height which the eye itself could scarcely -reach. “Laugh not, but fire,” said the other, -grimly; “I will lay my wooden leg that it -falls.” William fired, the black dot sunk, and a huge -kite fell bleeding to the ground. “You would not be -surprised at that,” said he of the wooden leg to the -huntsman, who was speechless and staring with astonishment; -“you would not, I repeat, be surprised at that, if you were -better acquainted with the wonders of your craft. Even the -casting such balls as these is one of the least important things -in it; it merely requires dexterity and courage, because it must -be done in the night. I will teach you for nothing when we -meet again; now I must away, for the bell has told seven. -In the mean time—here, try a few of my balls; still you -look incredulous—well—till we meet -again.”—</p> -<p>The soldier gave William a handful of balls, and -departed. Full of astonishment, and still distrusting the -evidence of his senses, the latter <a name="page110"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 110</span>tried another of the balls, and -again struck an almost unattainable object: he loaded his gun in -the usual manner, and again missed the easiest! He darted -forward to follow the crippled soldier, but the latter was no -longer in the forest; and William was obliged to remain satisfied -with the promise which he had given of meeting him again -hereafter.</p> -<p>Great joy it gave to the honest forester when William -returned, as before, loaded with game from the forest. He -was now called upon to explain the circumstance; but not being -prepared to give a reason, and above all, dreading to say any -thing upon the subject of his infallible balls, he attributed his -ill luck to a fault in his gun, which he had only, he pretended, -last night discovered and rectified. “Did I not tell -you so, wife,” said Bertram, laughing. “Your -demon was lodged in the barrel; and the goblin which threw down -father Kuno this morning, sat grinning, on the rusty -nail.” “What say you of a goblin,” -demanded William; “and what has happened to father -Kuno?” “Simply this,” replied Bertram: -“his portrait fell of itself from the wall this morning, -just as the bell tolled seven; and the silly woman settled it -that a goblin must be at the bottom of the mischief, and that we -are haunted accordingly.”</p> -<p>“At seven,” repeated William, “at -seven!” and he thought, with a strange feeling of affright, -of the soldier who parted from him exactly at that moment. -“Yes, seven,” continued Bertram, still -laughing. “I do not wonder at your surprise; it is -not a usual ghostly hour, but Anne would have it so.” -The latter shook her head doubtfully, and prayed that all might -end well; while William <a name="page111"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 111</span>shivered from head to foot, and -would secretly have vowed not to use the magic balls, but that -the thought of his ill luck haunted him. “Only one of -them,” said he, internally; “only one of them for the -master-shot, and then I have done with them for -ever.” But the forester urged him the next instant to -accompany him into the forest; and he dared not excite fresh -suspicions of his want of skill, nor offend the old man by -refusing, he was again compelled to make use of his wondrous -balls; and in the course of a few days he had so accustomed -himself to the use of them, and so entirely reconciled his -conscience to their doubtful origin, that he saw nothing sinful -or even objectionable in the business. He constantly -traversed the forest, in the hope of meeting the strange giver of -the balls; for the handful had decreased to two, and if he wished -to make sure of the master-shot, the utmost economy was -necessary. One day he even refused to accompany Bertram, -for the next was to be the day of trial, and the chief forester -was expected; it was possible he might require other proofs than -the mere formal essay, and William thus felt himself -secure. But in the evening, instead of the commissary, came -a messenger from the duke, with an order for a large delivery of -game, and to announce that the visit of the chief forester would -be postponed for eight days longer.</p> -<p>William felt as if he could have sunk into the bosom of the -earth, as he listened to the message, and his excessive alarm -would have excited strange suspicions, if all present had not -been ready to ascribe it to the delay of his expected -nuptials. He was now obliged to sacrifice at least one of -his balls, but he solemnly swore nothing should rob him of the -other but the forester’s master-shot.</p> -<p><a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -112</span>Bertram was outrageously angry when William returned -from the forest with only one stag; for the delivery order was -considerable. He was still more angry the next day at noon, -when Rudolph returned loaded with an immense quantity of game, -and William returned with none; he threatened to dismiss him, and -retract his promise respecting Catherine, if he did not bring -down at least two deer on the following day. Catherine was -in the greatest consternation, and earnestly besought him to make -use of his utmost skill, and not let a thought of her interrupt -his duties while occupied in the forest. He -departed—his heart loaded with despair. Catherine, he -saw too plainly, was lost to him for ever; and nothing remained -but the choice of the manner in which he should destroy his -happiness. Whilst he stood lost in the agonising -anticipation of his impending doom, a herd of deer approached -close to him. Mechanically he felt for his last ball; it -felt tremendously heavy in his hand: he was on the point of -dropping it back, resolving to preserve his treasure at every -hazard, when suddenly he saw—O sight of joy!—the -one-legged soldier approaching. Delightedly he let the ball -drop into the barrel, fired, brought down a brace of deer, and -hastened forward to meet his friend; but he was gone! -William could not discover him in the forest.</p> -<p>“Hark ye, William!” said the forester to him in -the evening, rousing him from the torpor of grief into which he -had fallen; “you must resent this affront as earnestly as -myself: nobody shall dare utter falsehoods of our ancestor Kuno, -nor accuse him as Rudolph is now doing. I insist,” -continued he, turning again to the latter, “if good angels -helped him, (which was very likely, <a name="page113"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 113</span>for in the Old Testament we -frequently read of instances of their protection,) we ought to be -grateful, and praise the wonderful goodness of God. But -nobody shall accuse Kuno of practising the black art. He -died happily—ay, and holily, in his bed, surrounded by -children and grandchildren,—which he who carries on a -correspondence with the evil one never does. I saw a -terrible example of that myself, when I was a forester’s -boy in Bohemia.”</p> -<p>“Let us hear how it happened, good Bertram,” said -all the listeners; and the forester nodded gravely, and -continued.</p> -<p>“I shiver when I think of it; but I will tell you -nevertheless. When a young man practising with other youths -under the chief foresters, there used frequently to join us a -town lad, a fine daring fellow, who, being a great lover of field -sports, came out to us as often as he could. He would have -made a good marksman, but was too flighty and thoughtless, so -that he frequently missed his mark. Once, when we ridiculed -his awkwardness, we provoked him into a rage, and he swore by all -that was holy that he would fire with a more certain aim than any -gamekeeper in the country, and that no animal should escape him, -either in the air or on the earth. But he kept his light -oath badly. A few days afterward an unknown huntsman roused -us early, and told us that a man was lying in the road and dying -without assistance. It was poor Schmid. He was -covered with wounds and blood, as if he had been torn by wild -beasts: he could not speak, for he was quite senseless, with -scarcely any appearance of life. He was conveyed to Prague, -and just before his death declared, that he had been out with an -old mountain huntsman <a name="page114"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 114</span>to the cross road, in order to cast -the magic balls, which are sure of hitting their mark; but that -making some fault or omission, the demon had treated him so -roughly that it would cost him his life.”</p> -<p>“Did he not explain?” asked William, -shuddering.</p> -<p>“Surely,” replied the forester. “He -declared before a court of justice, that he went out to the cross -road with the old gamekeeper; that they made a circle with a -bloody sword, and afterwards set it round with skulls and -bones. The mountain hunter then gave his directions to -Schmid as to what he was to do: he was to begin when the clock -struck eleven to cast the balls, and neither to cast more nor -fewer than sixty-three; one either above or under this number -would, when the bell tolled midnight, be the cause of his -destruction: neither was he to speak a single word during his -work, nor move from the circle whatever might happen, above, -below, or around him. Fulfilling these conditions sixty -balls would be sure of hitting, and the remaining three only -would miss. Schmid had actually begun casting the balls -when, according to what we could gather from him, he saw such -cruel and dreadful apparitions, that he at length shrieked and -sprung out of the circle, falling senseless to the ground; from -which trance he did not recover till under the hands of the -physician in Prague.”</p> -<p>“Heaven preserve us!” said the forester’s -wife, crossing herself. “It is a very deadly sin -undoubtedly,” pursued Bertram, “and a true woodsman -would scorn such a practice. He needs nothing but skill, -and a good gun, as you have lately experienced, William. I -would not, for my own part, <a name="page115"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 115</span>fire off such balls for any price; I -should always fear the fiend would, at some time or other, -conduct the ball to his own mark instead of to mine.”</p> -<p>Night drew round them with the conclusion of the -forester’s story. <i>He</i> went to his quiet bed, -but William remained in restless agony. It was in vain that -he attempted to compose himself. Sleep fled entirely from -his spirit. Strange objects flitted past him, and hovered -like dark omens over his pillow. The strange soldier of the -forest, Schmid, Catherine, the duke’s commissary, all -rushed before his eyes, and his fevered imagination converted -them into the most dreadful groups. Now, the miserable -Schmid stood warningly before him, and hollowly pointed to his -newly bleeding wounds; then the dark distorted face faded to the -pallid features of Catherine wrestling with the strength of -death; while the wild soldier of the forest stood mocking his -agony with a hellish laugh of scorn. The scene then changed -to his mind, and he stood in the forest before the commissary, -preparing for the master-shot. He -aimed—fired—missed. Catherine sunk down on the -earth. Bertram drove him away; while the one-legged -soldier, now again a friend, brought him fresh balls; but too -late—the trial was over, and he was lost.</p> -<p>In this manner wore away the agonised night, and with the -earliest dawn he sought the forest, hoping to meet with the -soldier; the clear morning air chased away the dark images of -sleep from his brow, and ennerved his drooping spirit. -“Fool!” said he to himself, “because I cannot -understand what is mysterious, must the mystery therefore be a -sin? Is what I seek so contrary to nature that it requires -the aid of spirits to obtain <a name="page116"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 116</span>it? Does not man govern the -mighty instinct of animals, and make them move according to the -will of their master? Why then should we not be able, by -natural means, to command the course of inanimate metal which -receives force and motion only through him? Nature is rich -in wonders which we do not comprehend, and shall I forfeit my -happiness for an ignorant prejudice only? No! Spirits -I will not call upon, but nature and her hidden powers I will -challenge and use, even though unable to explain its -mystery. I will seek the soldier, and, if I cannot find -him, I will at least be bolder than Schmid, for I have a better -cause. He was urged by presumption, I by love and -honour.”</p> -<p>But the soldier appeared not, however earnestly William sought -him; neither could any of those of whom he inquired give the -slightest information respecting him, and two days were wasted in -these anxious and fruitless inquiries.</p> -<p>“Then be it so,” exclaimed the unhappy young man; -and in a fit of despair he resolved to cast the magic balls in -the forest. “My days,” he added, “are -numbered to me; this night will I seek the cross road. Into -its silent and solitary recess no one will dare to intrude; and -the terrible circle will I not leave till the fearful work shall -be done.”</p> -<p>But when the shadows of evening fell upon the earth, and after -William had provided lead, bullet-mould, and coals, for his -nocturnal occupation, he was gently detained by Bertram, who -felt, he said, so severe an oppression, that he entreated him to -remain in his chamber during the night. Catherine offered -her services, but they were, to her astonishment, declined. -“At any other time,” said her father, “I should -have preferred you, <a name="page117"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 117</span>but to-night it must be -William. I shall be happier if he will remain with -me.”</p> -<p>William hesitated. He grew sick in his inmost -heart. He would have objected, but Catherine’s -entreaties were so irresistible, that he had nothing to oppose -against her wishes. He remained in the chamber, and in the -morning Bertram’s dark fears had faded, and he laughed at -his own absurdity. He proposed going to the forest, but -William, who intended to devote the day to his search for the -soldier, dissuaded him, and departed alone. He went, but -returned disappointed, and once more resolved to seek the forest -at night. As he approached the house, Catherine met -him. “Beloved William,” said she, “you -have a visitor, and a dear one, but you must guess who it -is.”</p> -<p>William was not at all disposed to guess, and still less to -receive visits; for at that time the dearest friend would have -been the most unwelcome intruder. He answered peevishly, -and was thinking of a pretext to turn back, when the door of the -house opened, and the pale moon threw her soft ray upon a -venerable old man, in the garb of a huntsman, who extended his -arms towards him; and “William!” said a well-known -voice, and the next instant the young forester found himself -folded to the bosom of his beloved uncle.</p> -<p>Ah! magic of early ties, dear recollections, and filial -gratitude! William felt them all; his heart was full of -joy, and all other thoughts were forgotten. Suddenly spoke -the warning voice to the tranquil happy dreamer. The -midnight hour struck, and William, with a shudder, remembered -what he had lost. “But one night more remains to -me,” said he; “to-morrow, or never.” His -violent agony did not escape the eye of his uncle, <a -name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 118</span>but he -ascribed it to fatigue, and excused himself for detaining him -from his needful rest, on account of his own departure, which he -could not delay beyond the following day. “Yet grieve -not, William,” said the old man as he retired to rest; -“grieve not for this short hour thus spent, you will only -sleep the sounder for it.” William shivered, for to -his ear these words conveyed a deeper meaning. There was a -dark foreboding in his heart, that the execution of his plan -would for ever banish the quiet of sleep from his soul.</p> -<p>But day dawned—passed—and evening descended. -“It must be now or never,” thought William, -“for to-morrow will be the day of trial.” The -females had been busied in preparations for the wedding and the -reception of their distinguished guest. Anne embraced -William when he returned, and, for the first time, saluted him -with the dear name of son. The tender joy of a young and -happy bride glittered in the sweet eyes of Catherine. The -supper-table was covered with flowers, good food, and large -bottles of long-hoarded wine from the stores of Bertram. -“Children,” said the old man, “this is our own -festival; let us, therefore, be happy: to-morrow we shall not be -alone, though you may perhaps be happier. I have invited -the priest, dear William, and when the trial is -over.”—A loud shriek from Catherine interrupted the -forester. Kuno’s picture had again fallen from its -place, and had struck her severely on the forehead. Bertram -grew angry. “I cannot conceive,” said he, -“why this picture is not hung properly; this is the second -time it has given us a fright: are you hurt, -Catherine?” “It is of no consequence,” -replied the maiden, gently wiping away the blood from her bright -curls; “I am less hurt than frightened.”</p> -<p><a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -119</span>William grew sick when he beheld her pale face, and -forehead bathed in blood. So he had seen her in his -distempered dreams on that dreadful night: and this reality -conjured up all those fearful fantasies anew. His -determination of proceeding in his plan was shaken; but the wine, -which he drank in greater quantities than usual, filled him with -a wild courage, and ennerved him to undertake its -execution. The clock struck nine. Love and valour -must combat with danger, thought William. But he sought in -vain for a decent pretence to leave his Catherine. How -could he quit her on her bridal eve? Time flew with the -rapidity of an arrow, and he suffered agonies even in the soft -arms of rewarding love. Ten o’clock struck: the -decisive moment was come. Without taking leave, William -started from his bride, and left the house to range in the -forest. “Whither go you, William?” said her -mother, following him, alarmed. “I have shot a deer, -which I had forgotten,” answered the youth. She still -entreated, and Catherine looked terrified, for she felt that -there was something (though she knew not what) to fear, from his -distracted manner. But their supplications were -unheeded. William sprung from them both, and hastened into -the forest.</p> -<p>The moon was on the wane, and gleamed a dark red light above -the horizon. Grey clouds flew rapidly past, and sometimes -darkened the surrounding country, which was soon relighted up by -the wild and glittering moonlight. The birch and aspen -trees nodded like spectres in the shade; and to William the -silver poplar was a white shadowy figure, which solemnly waved, -and beckoned him to return. He started, and felt as <a -name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 120</span>if the two -extraordinary interpositions to his plan, and the repeated falls -of the picture, were the last admonitions of his departing angel, -who thus warned him against the commission of an unblessed -deed. Once more he wavered in his intention. Now he -had even determined to return, when a voice whispered close to -him, “Fool! hast thou not already used the magic balls, and -dost thou only dread the toil of labouring for them?” -He paused. The moon shone brilliantly out from a dark -cloud, and lighted up the tranquil roof of the forester’s -humble dwelling. William saw Catherine’s window shine -in the silvery ray, and he stretched out his arms towards it, and -again directed his steps towards his home. Then the voice -rose whisperingly again around him, and, “Hence!—to -thy work!—away!” it murmured; while a strong gust of -wind brought to his ear the stroke of the second quarter. -“To my work,” he repeated; “ay; it is cowardly -to return half way—foolish to give up the great object -when, for a lesser, I have already perhaps risked my -salvation. I will finish.”</p> -<p>He strode rapidly forward. The wind drove the fugitive -clouds over the moon, and William entered the deep darkness of -the forest. Now he stood upon the cross road; the magic -circle was drawn; the skulls and bones of the dead laid in order -around it; the moon buried herself deeper in the cloudy mass, and -left the glimmering coals at intervals fanned into a blaze by the -fitful gusts of wind, alone to lighten the midnight deed, with a -wild and melancholy glare. Remotely the third quarter -sounded from a dull and heavy tower clock. William put the -casting ladle upon the coals, and threw the lead into it, -together with <a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -121</span>three balls, which had already hit their mark, -according to the huntsman’s usage: then the forest began to -be in motion; the night ravens, owls, and bats, fluttered up and -down, blinded by the glare of light. They fell from their -boughs, and placed themselves among the bones around the circle, -where, with hollow croakings and wild jabberings, they held an -unintelligible conversation with the skulls. Momentarily -their numbers increased, and among and above them hovered pale -cloudy forms, some shaped like animals, some like human -beings. The gusts of wind sported frightfully with their -dusky vapoury forms, scattering and reuniting them like the dews -of the evening shades. One form alone stood motionless and -unchanged near the circle, gazing with fixed and woful looks at -William; once it lifted up its pale hands in sorrow, and seemed -to sigh. The fire burned gloomily at the moment; but a -large grey owl flapped its wings, and fanned the dying embers -into light. William turned shivering away; for the -countenance of his dead mother gazed mournfully at him from the -dark and dusky figure.</p> -<p>The bell tolled eleven; the pale figure vanished with a groan; -the owls and night ravens flew screeching up into the air, and -the skulls and bones clattered beneath their wings. William -knelt down by his hearth of coals. He began steadily to -cast, and, with the last sound of the bell, the first ball fell -from the mould.</p> -<p>The owls and the skulls were quiet: but along the road an old -woman, bent down with the weight of age, advanced towards the -circle. She was hung round with wooden spoons, ladles, and -other kitchen utensils, which made a frightful <a -name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -122</span>clattering. The owls screeched at her approach, -and caressed her with their wings. Arrived at the circle, -she stooped down to seize the bones and the skulls; but the coals -hissed flames at her, and she drew back her withered hands from -the fire. Then she paced round the circle, and grinning and -chattering, held up her wares towards William. “Give -me the skulls,” she gabbled; “give me the skulls, and -I will give thee my treasures; give me the skulls, the skulls; -what canst thou want with the trash? Thou art -mine—mine, dear bridegroom; none can help thee: thou canst -not escape me; thou must lead with me in the bridal dance. -Come away, thou bridegroom mine!”</p> -<p>William’s breast throbbed; but he remained silent, and -hastened on with his work. The old woman was not a stranger -to him. A mad beggar had often haunted the neighbourhood, -until she found an asylum in the mad-house. Now, he knew -not whether her appearance was reality or a delusion. In a -short time she grew enraged, threw down her stick, and chattered -anew at William. “Take these for our nuptial -night,” she cried: “the bridal bed is ready, and -to-morrow, when evening cometh, thou wilt be wedded to me. -Come soon, my love; delay not, my bridegroom; come -soon.” And she hobbled slowly away into the -forest.</p> -<p>Suddenly there arose a rattling like the noise of wheels, -mingled with the cracking of whips and shouting of men. A -carriage came headlong, with six horses and outriders. -“What is the meaning of all this in the road?” cried -the foremost horseman. “Room there!” -William looked up. Fire sprung from the hoofs of the -horses, <a name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -123</span>and round the wheels of the carriage: it shone like the -glimmering of phosphorus. He suspected a magical delusion, -and remained quiet. “On, on, upon it!—over -it!—down! down!” cried the horseman; and in a moment -the whole troop stormed in headlong upon the circle. -William plunged down to the earth, and the horses reared -furiously above his head; but the airy cavalry whirled high in -the air with the carriage, and, after turning several times round -the magic circle, disappeared in a storm of wind, which tore the -tops of the mightiest trees, and scattered their branches to a -distance.</p> -<p>Some time elapsed ere William could recover from his -terror. At length he compelled his trembling fingers to be -steady, and cast a few balls without farther interruption. -Again the well-known tower clock struck, and to him in the -dreadful solitary circle, consoling as the voice of humanity, -rose the sound from the habitations of men, but the clock struck -the quarter thrice. He shuddered at the lightning-like -flight of time; for a third part of his work was hardly -done. Again the clock struck, for the fourth -time!—Horror!—his strength was annihilated, every -limb was palsied, and the mould fell out of his trembling -hand. He listened, in the quiet resignation of despair, for -the stroke of the full, the terrible, midnight hour. The -sound hesitated—delayed—was silent. To palter -with the awful midnight was too daring and too dangerous even to -the dreadful powers of darkness. Hope again raised the sunk -heart of William; he hastily drew out his watch, and beheld it -pointing to the second quarter of the hour. He looked -gratefully up towards heaven, and a feeling of piety moderated -the <a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -124</span>transport, which, contrary to the laws of the dark -world, would otherwise have burst forth in loud and joyous -exclamations.</p> -<p>Strengthened, by the experience of the last half-hour, against -any new delusion, William now went boldly on with his work. -Every thing was silent around him, except that the owls snored in -their uneasy sleep, and at intervals struck their beaks against -the bones of the dead. Suddenly it was broken by a -crackling among the bushes. The sound was familiar to the -sportsman, and, as he expected, a huge wild boar broke through -the briers, and came foaming towards the circle. Believing -this to be a reality, he sprung hastily on his feet, seized his -gun, and attempted to fire. Not a single spark came from -the flint. Startled at his danger, he drew his -hunting-knife to attack it,—when the bristly savage, like -the carriage and the horses, ascended high above his head, and -vanished into the silent fields of air.</p> -<p>The anxious lover worked on steadily to regain the time he had -so unhappily lost. Sixty balls were cast. He looked -joyfully upwards; the clouds were dispersing, and the moon again -threw her bright rays upon the surrounding country; he was -rejoicing in the approaching end of his labours, when an agonised -voice, in the tones of Catherine, shrieked out the name of -“William!” In the next moment, he beheld his -beloved dart from among the bushes, and gaze fearfully around -her. Following her distracted steps, and panting closely -behind her, trod the mad beggar woman, extending her withered -arms towards the fugitive, whose light dress, fluttering in the -wind, she repeatedly attempted to grasp. Catherine -collected her expiring strength in one desperate effort to -escape, when <a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -125</span>the long-sought soldier of the forest planted himself -before her and delayed her flight. The hesitation of the -moment gained time for the mad woman, who sprung wildly upon -Catherine, and grasped her in her long and fleshless hands. -William could endure it no longer, he dashed the last ball from -his hand, and was on the point of springing from the circle, when -the bell tolled midnight, and the delusion vanished. The -owls knocked the skulls and bones cluttering against each other, -and flew up again to their hiding-places; the coals were suddenly -extinguished; and William sunk, exhausted with fatigue, to the -earth; but there was no rest for him in the forest; he was again -disturbed by the slow and sullen approach of a stranger, mounted -upon a huge coal-black steed: he stopped before the demolished -magic circle, and, addressing the huntsman,—“You have -stood the trial well,” said he; “what do you require -of me?”</p> -<p>“Of you, stranger, nothing,” replied William; -“of that of which I had need, I have prepared for -myself.”</p> -<p>“But with my assistance,” continued the stranger; -“therefore a share of it belongs to me.” -“Certainly not,” replied the huntsman; “I have -neither hired you nor called upon you.”</p> -<p>The horseman smiled. “You are bolder than your -equals are wont to be,” said he. “Take then the -balls which you have cast: sixty for you, three for me. The -first hit, the second miss. When we meet again you will -understand me.”</p> -<p>William turned away. “I will not meet you again; I -will never see you more,” he cried, trembling. -“Why do you turn from me?” demanded the stranger, -with a horrible laugh: “do <a name="page126"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 126</span>you know me?” “No; -no,” said the huntsman, shuddering; “I know you not; -I will not even look upon you. Whoever you may be, leave -me.”</p> -<p>The black horseman turned his steed. “The rising -hairs of your head,” cried he with gloomy gravity, -“declare that you do know me. You are right; I am he -whom you name in the secrecy of your soul, and shudder to think -you have done so.” At these words he disappeared, and -the trees under which he had stood let their withered branches -sink helpless and dead to the earth.</p> -<p>“Merciful Heaven! William,” said Catherine, on -remarking his pale and distracted look on his return after -midnight; “what has happened to you? you look as if you had -just risen from the grave.” “It is the night -air,” he replied; “and I am not well.” -“But, William,” said the forester, who had just -entered, “why then would you go to the forest: something -has happened to you there. Boy, you cannot thus blind -me.”</p> -<p>William was startled; the sad solemnity of Bertram’s -manner struck him. “Yes, something has -occurred,” said he; “but have patience for a few -days, and all shall be explained to your -satisfaction.” “Willingly, dear son,” -interrupted the forester; “question him no further, -Catherine. Go to your needful rest, William, and indulge in -hope of the future. He who goes on in his occupation openly -and honestly, never can be harmed by the evil spirits of the -night.”</p> -<p>William had need of all his dissimulation; for the old -man’s observations so nearly meeting the truth, his -forbearing love, and unshaken confidence in William’s -honesty, altogether distracted his mind: he hastened to his room, -determined to <a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -127</span>destroy the magical preparation. “But one -ball—only one will I use,” exclaimed he, weeping -aloud, with his folded hands held up to heaven; “and surely -this determination will efface the sin of the deed I have -committed. With a thousand acts of penitence I will make -atonement for what is past, for I cannot now step back without -betraying my happiness, my honour, and my love.” And -with this resolution he calmed the tumult of his spirits, and met -the rays of the morning sun with more tranquillity than he had -dared to hope.</p> -<p>The commissary of the duke arrived; he proposed a shooting -party in the forest, before the trial of skill took place. -“For, though we must certainly retain the old form,” -said he, “of the essay shot, yet the skill of the huntsman -is, after all, best proved in the forest: so come, young -marksman, to the woods.”</p> -<p>William’s cheek grew pale, and he earnestly tried to -excuse himself from accompanying them. But, when this was -refused by the chief forester, he entreated at least to be -allowed to fire his trial shot before their departure. Old -Bertram shook his head, doubtingly: “William,” said -he, “should my suspicion of yesterday be -just”—“Father!” replied the youth; and no -longer daring to hesitate, he departed with them to the -forest.</p> -<p>Bertram had in vain endeavoured to suppress his forebodings -and assume a cheerful countenance. Catherine too was -dejected, and it was not until the arrival of the priest that she -recollected her nuptial garland: her mother had locked it up, -and, in her haste to open the chest, broke the lock, and was -obliged to send into the village for another wreath, as too much -time had been <a name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -128</span>wasted in endeavouring to recover the first. -“Let them give you the handsomest,” said Anne to the -little messenger, “the very handsomest they -have.” The boy accordingly chose the most glittering, -and the seller, who misunderstood him gave him a death garland, -composed of myrtle and rosemary, intermingled with silver. -The mother and daughter beheld and recognized the mysterious -intimation of fate; they embraced each other in silence, and -endeavoured to smile away their terror, in imputing it to the -boy’s mistake. Again the broken lock was tried; it -opened easily now; the wreaths were changed, and the bridal -garland was twined around Catherine’s brilliant locks.</p> -<p>The sportsmen returned from the forest. The commissary -was inexhaustible on the subject of William’s wondrous -skill. “It almost appears ridiculous,” said he, -“after such proofs, to require any further trial; yet, in -honour of the old custom, we must perform what appears -superfluous; we will therefore finish the business as quickly as -possible. There upon that pillar, sits a dove, shoot -it.” “For God’s sake,” said -Catherine, hastily approaching, “do not shoot that -dove. Alas! in my sleep last night I was myself a dove, and -my mother, while fastening a ring round my neck, on your -approaching us, became covered with blood.”</p> -<p>William drew back his gun; but the chief forester -smiled. “So timid, little maiden!” said he, -“that will never do for a huntsman’s bride: come, -courage! courage!—or is the dove a favourite, -perhaps?”</p> -<p>“Ah, no,” she replied; “it is but -fear.”</p> -<p><a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -129</span>“Well then,” replied the commissary, -“have courage; and now, William, fire!”</p> -<p>William fired, and, in the same moment, Catherine sunk, with a -loud scream, to the earth. “Silly girl,” -exclaimed the commissary, lifting her up: but a stream of blood -flowed over her face, her forehead was shattered, for the ball of -the rifle was lodged in the wound. William turned on -hearing loud shrieks behind him, and beheld his Catherine pale, -weltering in her own blood, and by her side the soldier of the -forest, who, with a fiendish laugh of scorn, pointed to his dying -victim, and cried aloud to William, “Sixty hit, three -miss!”</p> -<p>“Accursed fiend!” shrieked the wretched youth, -striking at the detested form with his sword, “hast thou -thus deceived me?” His agony permitted no further -expression, for he sunk senseless to the earth by the side of the -victim bride. The commissary and priest in vain endeavoured -to console the childless, heart-broken parents. The mother -had scarcely laid the prophetic garland of death upon the bosom -of the bridal corpse, when her sorrow and life expired with her -last-shed tear: the solitary father soon followed her, and the -miserable William closed his life in the mad-house.</p> -<h2><a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 130</span>THE -FORTUNES OF DE LA POLE.</h2> -<blockquote><p>In thoughts from the visions of the night, when -deep sleep falleth on men;<br /> -Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to -shake.<br /> -Then a spirit passed before my face, the hair of my head stood -up.</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>Job</i> chap. iv.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">Early</span> in the seventeenth century, -on a very cold November morning, a gentleman of Winchester was -returning to his home, by a road which then led by the borders of -the New Forest. He was conversing gaily with his -attendants, when his dogs arrested the mirth of the party, by -darting suddenly into the mazes of the forest, and signifying -their discovery of some unusual object by loud and continued -howls. Sir Bernard Courtenay instantly followed their -track, and was startled by discovering, amid the tangled bushes, -the corpse of a man, frightfully mangled, and which appeared to -have lain some time in its concealment. Little observation -was necessary to point out the identity of the -sufferer,—Sir Bernard Courtenay almost instantly recognized -an intimate friend; and, with deep and painful commiseration, -prepared to assist his attendants to convey the body to its -home.</p> -<p>Many conjectures were immediately afloat, as <a -name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 131</span>to the -cause and perpetrator of this dreadful act, and, as is ever usual -in such cases, many more absurd and irrational than -just:—there was no apparent possibility of tracing the -fact; it appeared to mock all the art and all the power of -justice. He had not been robbed—murder alone had been -intended, and had alone been perpetrated; so that one fact at -least was clear, that this deed had been the work of an enemy: no -common one, it was presumed, if the appearance of the corpse -might weigh any thing in evidence; it was mangled fearfully, and -the frightful distension of the muscles, the grim and rigid -expression of the features, the many deep and bloody wounds upon -the body, and the firm and powerful grasp with which the strained -fingers of one hand clenched a dark lock of human hair, while -those of the other as firmly closed over the hilt of a broken -dagger, gave tokens that a fierce and terrible struggle had -preceded his unexpected destruction. It was hoped, that -some corresponding token of wounds and fierce exertion might lead -to a discovery of the murderer; for none deemed, after beholding -the body, and calling to mind the noble courage of the victim -when in life, that the destroyer could pass from that gripe -unharmed.</p> -<p>He who had thus fallen, was one for whom every eye had a tear -and every heart a genuine sigh; he had been the friend of all, -the enemy of none; he was young, beautiful, and brave; and his -native town had looked up to him as one who was to add new glory -to her venerable name, and new lustre to his own princely blood; -and cut off in the beginning of his career, the very high day of -his happiness and beauty, and so cut off—who was there that -did not lament for John de la <a name="page132"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 132</span>Pole? But, though all -Winchester, and the county in whose bosom it lies, sorrowed over -the corpse of John de la Pole, the agony borne from his death was -to be found in his family alone; there he had been adored, and -there most truly and deeply was his sad destiny accused. -His young and lovely wife, scarce past her bridal year,—she -who had, long before his marriage, been the secret object of his -ardent love, and who, upon the death of his father, became the -object of his choice—of her grief it was scarcely possible -to think without affright; for, in that convulsion of soul into -which, in the first horror of eternal separation from all we -love, we invariably fall, she had withdrawn herself from all -consolation of her friends—all succour of her attendants; -and report whispered that she was using means, though quietly, -(in order to avoid public shame,) to shorten a life which was now -become odious and burthensome. To this cruel resolution she -had been driven by a terrible incident; on the morning of the -discovery of the body, she had, believing him to be on his road -towards his home, ascended her carriage in order to meet him, and -was driving cheerfully through the town, when her progress was -arrested by the appearance of the crowd bearing the corpse of her -husband. She recognized it at a glance, and, before they -were aware of their imprudence, a piercing shriek announced to -the people that she did so. She took another searching, -distracted look at the body, and shrunk into the arms of her -attendants, insensible and silent. <i>They</i> thought she -was dead—it would not have been wonderful if she had been; -the husband of her soul was lying before her, a deep gash across -his throat, another had disfigured his snowy brow, and almost <a -name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 133</span>divided his -once lofty head, while the bosom upon which she had been -accustomed to repose was mangled and rent by stabs and blows too -many to number—what an object for a young and loving -wife! Remembrance was terrible to her, and the inability of -justice to discover the murderer added despair to her grief, and -thus compelled her to seek for consolation only in the prospect -of death.</p> -<p>As bitter a grief, though perhaps not so deep or desperate, -had fastened upon the heart of the only survivor of his family, a -youth of twenty, of a beauty and virtue equal to his lamented -brother, and who had indeed ample reason for his regrets. -John de la Pole had been as a father to his youth, and loved him -with a warmth far surpassing the kindness of ordinary -brotherhood. Eustace had never been taught to remember that -he was the younger, for the fortunes of his house were open to -him, and the purse of the elder was common to both. On the -marriage of the latter with his beloved Agatha, the younger had -timidly hinted at his fears of an interruption to their -friendship; but John had remedied this, by generously providing -for his brother, and entreating his Agatha to allow him still a -home at the castle: which being granted, Eustace, though still -fearful of the influence of his lovely sister, continued to -reside at home.</p> -<p>But the influence he so much dreaded during his life, became -singularly apparent after the death of his beloved John. -The will of the latter had indeed left an independence to -Eustace, but nothing to support the splendour of that princely -house of which he was now sole representative. All was -assigned to Agatha,—she was the sole <a -name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>heir of her -husband,—the being for whose sake alone he appeared to -glory in the possession of wealth. Eustace indeed might -still enjoy it, but it was upon a condition which drew the blood -from the young man’s cheek as he read, and palsied the warm -throbbings of the heart in his bosom; it was, that if John de la -Pole should die childless before he had attained the age of -thirty, Eustace should espouse the widow. His brother even -<i>entreated</i> this sacrifice of him: he said, he knew his -heart had been sensible of other charms, but he implored him to -yield up this transient gratification to his eternal -happiness. He could not endure, he said, the thought of -averting from Eustace the fortune of his house; yet still less -could he endure to know that Agatha would fill a subordinate -state in his family to that in which he had placed her. He -shuddered at the thought of her being driven, by this -circumstance, to become the wife of another—of one who -would love her, and whom she could also love. He besought -Eustace therefore, if he valued his repose, to wed her, as no -attachment subsisted between them, and he was satisfied to -believe that by him she would be treated with gentleness. -Agatha he entreated to comply with his last wishes, and accept -the hand of Eustace within two months after his death, or be -content to resign, with her present rank, the estates to the next -of kin. Such was the will of John de la Pole. -Eustace, full of grief, instantly retired from the castle of his -sister, whom he believed as little inclined to fulfil the -conditions of the will as himself, and resigned his spirit for -some days to despair; but his friends rallied round him, and -represented how much depended upon his calm <a -name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -135</span>decision. The next of kin had appeared too, a -greedy rapacious man, the son of his father’s sister, who -seemed to be sure of his inheritance, and who John, (it was -conjectured,) had purposely named, to stimulate his brother to -fulfil his dying injunctions. Hugh de Broke was insolent -and brutal, had never been on kindly terms with his cousins, and -had once nearly been murdered by the peasantry for wounding John -in a quarrel which occurred a few years before. The -inhabitants saw him return with disgust; his early brutalities -were remembered; and when he boasted, in his drink, that he knew -his cousin before his death intended to make a will in his -favour, all Hampshire was ready to accuse him of the murder, and -many of its gentlemen would have given half their estates to have -been able to substantiate the charge. From earnest desire -to action there is but one step: the thought was scarcely uttered -by one, ere many endeavoured to prove it a fact, and Hugh de -Broke became, from an object of mere dislike, one of abhorrence -and suspicion. He was not told of the murmurs afloat -respecting him; and he was too much accustomed to signs of -dislike, to observe any thing new in their conduct. The -eyes that glared upon him had nothing in them peculiarly -ferocious to him now; nor did the deep mutterings and suppressed -curses as he passed, startle him at this period from his path; he -remembered the hatred of other days, and if he <i>did</i> observe -any increase of this ill feeling towards him, he attributed their -malignity less towards himself in his own person, than against -the authority he would be enabled to hold over their actions as -the fortunate heir of John de la Pole. At all events, he -fortified himself <a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -136</span>against their inflictions, by resorting in some cases -to the exercise of his native brutality, in others to a loud and -bitter scorn, which only served to increase their abhorrence and -his own unsuspected danger.</p> -<p>The accusers were wary in their proceedings, and silently went -on collecting proofs and accumulating evidence, until they -believed they had truly in the ruffian kinsman, discovered the -murderer of their popular favourite. It was remembered, -that after three years’ absence, he had appeared in -Hampshire about a month previous to the murder of John, and then -had suddenly disappeared, to re-appear as suddenly in Winchester -after the contents of the extraordinary will were made -public. He had boasted a previous knowledge of this -document, and he had taken into his service the man who attended -John in his fatal journey, and who, by delaying to follow his -master, had given courage to the assassin to make the -attack. This man had been dismissed by Eustace with a -bitter reproof, and had immediately repaired to De Broke. -Fear, or too much security, (it was affirmed,) had dictated the -measure of his adoption, after a dismissal which ought to have -rendered his services every where suspicious. John, it was -urged, had been absent nearly a month, on a visit to a distant -friend; he had set out on foot on his return, unaccompanied; for -this man, according to his own statement, was commanded by his -master to follow him with the horses, one of which (De la -Pole’s) had been injured by an accident a few days before; -but he had loitered long after, in order to keep an appointment -which he had made with a damsel in the establishment of his -master’s friend. He <a name="page137"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 137</span>was for this loudly accused of -treachery; and De Broke ferociously became his champion, with a -violence that only defeated the object he had in view. The -lock of hair found in the gripe of the corpse was remembered and -produced; it was a bunch of thick and clustering curls, and had -been forcibly torn from the head of the assassin. The hair -of the servant was pale, but it was remarked that Hugh’s -was dark and curling, and they sought an opportunity to compare -them together. De Broke drove the party from his presence -with every mark of contempt, and hardly deigned to assent to the -repeated asseverations of his servants, that his hair was much -darker, and altogether of a different texture from that produced -as taken from the corpse. His conduct was resented -warmly. By degrees all the gentry assumed the opinions of -the mob; and when, in a violent attack upon his person, it was -discovered that his hair had lately been polled in order to -facilitate the cure of a wound, and which had hitherto been -concealed by the (then) extraordinary contrivance of a peruke, -the magistrates made open cause with the people, and Hugh was -conducted to prison. There his conduct was sullen and -brutal; he would give no explanation, save that the wound in his -head arose from a fall from his horse. He was unusually -ferocious; and considerably aggravated his case, by his constant -threats of deep and deadly vengeance against Eustace de la Pole, -who, he insisted, had conspired to cheat him of his estate, in -conjunction with his other enemies. Many new proofs -appeared against him, and the whole county awaited, in trembling -suspense, the event of his anticipated trial.</p> -<p><a name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 138</span>But -these anticipations were not to be gratified: a few nights before -the arrival of the judges, Hugh had contrived to escape from his -prison, and elude the vigilance of his enemies, by the aid, it -was supposed, of his servant, for he also fled the country; and -neither master nor man again fell into the hands of justice.</p> -<p>In the mean time, the interval months, the short period of -time allowed for most important considerations, were fast wearing -away; the two persons most interested in their progress had come -to no decision; and though Hugh de Broke had for the present -withdrawn his claim, yet he had heirs, who neither more delicate -nor more generous than himself, might endeavour to prove his -incapacity, and substantiate their own in place of his. At -all events, delays were dangerous, and the fortunes of De la Pole -were too considerable to be put to hazard. Eustace loved -another, and Agatha could not forget her husband; yet a -compliance with the terms of the will became an absolute -necessity. Though with averted hearts, they joined hands at -the earnest entreaty of friends and relatives; nor would it have -been possible to have refused, since even royal majesty evinced a -solicitude, that the great fortunes and powerful political -interest of the family should not pass into any other hands than -those of that loyal and princely blood which had hitherto held -them so nobly. Agatha and Eustace became man and wife, and -vowed to cherish and love each other till death.</p> -<p>But it was soon evident to all, that this was not either in -the power or inclination of the new wedded pair: a deeper sorrow -had sunk into their minds, and their calm grief was supplanted <a -name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 139</span>by looks -and feelings of horror and despair. They spent much of -their time together; but their conferences seemed rather to -heighten than to soothe their mutual suffering. It was at -length remarked, that Eustace never passed his nights in the -chamber of his wife, but sometimes in deep groans and anguish in -the seclusion of his own apartment, or in wandering wildly -through the gloomy mazes of the forest. At such times a -stupor would overshadow the spirit of Agatha,—a silent and -uncomplaining madness that seemed to render her insensible to -suffering; and only upon his return did she vent her keen anguish -in words, or dissipate her torture by shrieks as piercing as they -were fearful.</p> -<p>Those about them saw no other cause for this mental hell, than -the grief that had seized upon them, by constantly contemplating -their eternal separation from the being they most loved. It -was anticipated that time would effect, if not a cure, at least -some amelioration of its bitterness; but time rolled on, and -their agonies did not decrease. Nor did the prospect of an -heir to their disastrous union afford any pleasure or consolation -to their minds; they went through the usual routine of -preparation, because, as it appeared, it <i>was</i> usual; there -was no joyous anticipation on the part of Eustace,—no -tender, trembling hope on the side of Agatha; there was no -anxiety, no care; it was a thing unspoken of, unnoted; and when -the bustle of the house, the importance of the attendants, and -the entrance of the friend (who, unsummoned, save by the -servants, yet judged it necessary to be near her,) told Eustace -of the near approaching throes of Agatha, he <a -name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 140</span>threw -himself upon the ground in the chamber adjoining her, and buried -his face in his hands.</p> -<p>Eustace, young, beautiful, and of a gallant spirit, was adored -by his household, <i>all</i> the members of which fondly -contemplated the birth of an heir, as an event well calculated to -calm their mutual suffering, and endear them to each other: and -though the maternal anguish of Agatha took place before the usual -and expected time, the hopes so affectionately cherished were not -shaken by the event; but the conduct of their master gave a wound -to their generous devotion. Sad and singular as it was, -that of Agatha was scarcely less inexplicable: no groans, no -tokens of pain accompanied her physical suffering; and it was -apparent that some keener pang of the mind, some woe too deep for -utterance, had deadened all sense to merely corporal pain. -Her eyes were generally closed, except when some louder noise, or -the nearer approach of an attendant towards the couch, forced her -to open them, and gaze around her for an instant; but, when her -senses were thus for a moment awakened, it was evident the object -which had aroused them had no share in their attention. -Heedless of all that was passing, she took a shuddering rapid -glance around the chamber, as if in earnest search of one whom -she yet feared to encounter, and then closed them in evident -affright, and sunk anew into stupor and silence;—it was -amidst this stupor and silence that her first-born son entered -the world.</p> -<p>Eustace had not long remained absorbed in his own painful -meditations, ere a mighty shriek from the chamber of Agatha broke -upon his ear, and made him partly raise his head from the hard -pillow to which he had consigned it. But his <a -name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 141</span>soul was -dead within him;—he thought no further agony could reach -him now—no keener pang could inflict a wound in his already -crushed heart; and though the scream was one of horror and -dismay, a sound of many voices in grief and consternation, it -passed over his senses without further notice, and he again -dropped his head to the ground, and, grovelling to earth, seemed -as he would bury himself from his anguish in the kindly bosom of -his only parent—his last—his truest friend.</p> -<p>But repose was not for him—no, not even the repose of -despair—he was again to wake, to feel, to suffer; there was -an undreamed-of agony near—a sting that was to penetrate -his palsied bosom, and awake his crushed soul from the dead; to -die would have been bliss, but that was a bliss denied him.</p> -<p>The unhappy young man arose;—a footstep was heard -hastily rushing towards his chamber—the wife of Courtenay -approached him with a look of commiserating regard, and took his -arm to draw him to the apartment of Agatha. She did not -speak, but Eustace read in the expression of her features that -there was yet more to encounter and to endure. He entered -the apartment of his wife—<i>she</i> was lying speechless -and insensible upon her couch, utterly incapable of any -observation of what was passing around her; and by her side lay a -deformed and distorted infant, plunged in the still deeper -silence of death.</p> -<p>In the first moment of sorrow, the friend who had so hastily -sought the presence of Eustace, had done so under the compelling -influence of the circumstance and the time; but a few moments had -scarcely elapsed, ere Courtenay recovered sufficient <a -name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -142</span>recollection to decide that his wife had judged -unwisely in so rapidly flying from the chamber of the poor -Agatha, and bursting into that of her husband, dreading the -influence the sudden grief might probably acquire over the -already racked brain of the latter. With this feeling, -Courtenay raised his eyes from the dead child to observe the -countenance of Eustace, and if possible, form a judgment as to -how he was likely to support this shock: but here his fears gave -place to a new feeling, and his grief was overpowered by -astonishment at the singular deportment of Eustace: the childless -father advanced slowly towards the corse of his infant, and gazed -upon it intently for a moment; a spasm of agony passed over his -countenance, but there was no surprise mingled with its -expression. “And is it indeed <i>thus</i>!” he -murmured in a low and agonised tone of voice; “and -<i>so</i> must my punishment begin!—yet better is it even -thus, than that thou, poor distorted thing! shouldst live to -reproach thy father, and, by thy sufferings, be an accusing -witness against him.” A convulsive shivering seized -upon his frame, and he seemed to be struggling with some -difficult and awful resolve. At that moment a similar -convulsion appeared to extend itself to the body of the infant; -its eyes rolled, and one arm suddenly stretched itself out with a -convulsive kind of movement, and remained extended, pointing -towards Eustace. The struggle was at an end in an instant; -the change from distracted to subdued sorrow was the work of a -moment. He grew perfectly calm; and turning his looks again -towards the infant, and addressing it in a low steady voice, -“I thank thee,” he said, “for this warning; -thou too shalt not have cause to reproach me; I have hesitated <a -name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>too long; -but his will and thine shall be done.” Saying thus, -his head drooped upon his bosom as in deep thought, and the -extended arm of the child a moment after fell quietly down by its -side.</p> -<p>Courtenay, the friend of Eustace, and the near relative of -Agatha, now judged that in this moment of calmness he might -venture some expressions of consolation. He deeply -regretted that he should have mistaken the sleep of the infant -for the last slumber of death, and he urged to Eustace the -possibility that the union of medical skill and paternal care -might relieve his child from its afflictions, and restore it, in -natural beauty, to his love. He continued to dwell some -time longer upon well intended topics of consolation, until he -perceived that Eustace no longer heard his observations, or even -remembered his presence. Suddenly, a new thought appeared -to awaken the dormant faculties of the latter. “Has -Agatha seen her child?” he demanded. -“No,” replied the wife of Courtenay; “she was -insensible at the time of its birth, and I instantly rushed from -the chamber to seek counsel of my husband: he could give none; -but, terrified as myself, followed me hither. Now, I deem, -that as the child has uttered no sound since it came into the -world, it were better she were told of its death; it will be but -an anticipation of what must happen; for surely such an unhappy -object cannot long exist.” “I know not -that,” observed Eustace, sadly; “but at least do as -thou hast said, and remove the child from the -castle.” Courtenay retired from the apartment; and -the wish of De la Pole was speedily obeyed.</p> -<p>But it seemed as if this unmeasured sorrow had brought -calmness to him whom they feared it <a name="page144"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 144</span>would annihilate: he sought not the -apartment of his wife, but retired tranquilly to his own; and -there was a stillness in it throughout the night, wholly unlike -the restless pacings and disturbed groans which had hitherto been -heard to issue from it. In the morning he went to Agatha; -their conference was long and sad, for traces of tears were on -her countenance when they parted; but the shrieks and agonies -which had formerly distinguished their interviews were no more; -she had caught consolation and fortitude from him, and her mind, -it appeared, had now grown as resigned and tranquil as his -own.</p> -<p>Eustace made a journey to a distant part of the country: he -spoke nothing of his intention previous to his setting out, nor -of its object on his return; that it had been of importance, -could only be collected from the care with which he had concealed -it, and the continual occupations which followed his arrival at -Winchester. He was constantly employed in writing, and once -or twice had had earnest conversations with Courtenay. It -was during one of these that he received an unexpected -interruption in the person of Agatha, who entered calmly the -apartment of her husband, and demanded his attention. -Courtenay arose, and was preparing to retire, when Agatha -arrested his steps. “That which I have to say is for -thy ear also,” she remarked; “stay, therefore, and -answer me. Sleeping on my couch in the midday heat the -voice of my damsels in discourse broke upon my ear, and the sound -they uttered gave me to know that my infant boy yet lives; -wherefore is it that it is not in the bosom of its mother? and -why was it ever banished from her care?” There was a -dead silence at the conclusion of this speech. <a -name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>Eustace -replied not, and the lip of Courtenay trembled. -“Eustace fears to reply,” observed Agatha; “he -trembles to accumulate more sorrow upon this drooping head; he -may, in tenderness, deceive; but thou, Courtenay, knowest not to -lie, and from thy lips must the bitter truth come; wherefore is -my infant not here?” “We feared it would -die,” answered Courtenay; “and, therefore, in thy -already terrible agony, wished to spare thee the spectacle of its -dissolution.” “But it did not die,” -pertinaciously resumed Agatha; “why was it not restored? it -might have brought peace and consolation to the bosom of its -mother.” “No, madam,” returned the -shuddering speaker; “that child would have brought sorrow -and dismay, but no joy to the heart of its unhappy parent. -We removed it to a distance, fearing the effect of its appearance -upon your mind; it is most fearfully disfigured.” -“Disfigured!” repeated Agatha, with a thrilling -start. A long pause ensued. “Let her behold the -boy,” said Eustace, calmly. “Yes! let me behold -my boy,” said the mother, while tears of sorrow heightened -the lustre of those splendid eyes; “let me behold my boy; I -shall not shrink from his sight, even though he be an eternal -remembrancer of—” She paused, and sadly turned -her eyes towards her husband. “Well, then, thou hast -anticipated aright,” said Eustace; “he <i>will</i> be -to thee an eternal remembrancer; to me—that ghastly -face—that pointing hand—I will not behold them; yet -do I rejoice in thy resolve, for such is thy painful duty, and -thus wilt thou share my sacrifice without enduring my -suffering.” He retired as he spoke; and soon after, -conducted by Courtenay, <a name="page146"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 146</span>in silence and secrecy, the hapless -mother folded the ghastly boy to her breast.</p> -<p>It is rare that the human mind can dwell upon more than one -wonder at a period. The neighbourhood, roused by the idle -gossiping of the castle damsels, had begun to be astonished at -the disappearance of the heir of De la Pole, who was said not to -be dead, but deprived of his mother’s tenderness and his -father’s succession; and, offended that there should be a -secret, they determined that rendering justice to the injured -child should be the apology for their own ungenerous -curiosity. From this they were diverted by a singular -incident.</p> -<p>A meeting of the gentlemen of the county had been called for -some public purpose foreign to this narrative. In the midst -of this discussion, it was observed that Eustace de la Pole was -absent: this, to many who had known of his recent griefs and -habits, was nothing singular; but those who resided more remote -from the sphere of his influence, felt authorised to demand his -presence and attention in a matter which was supposed deeply to -interest the class to which he belonged. A messenger was -despatched to request his attendance, and was told that he was -preparing to wait upon them; and he who was charged with the -embassy had scarcely returned to his employers, ere Eustace de la -Pole entered the council-chamber, leading by the hand a tall and -graceful youth, whom he placed at the table of the council, and -behind whose chair he stood while he spoke. His words were -few; but their stunning import threw horror and astonishment over -the noble assembly. “I present to you this young -man,” calmly said he; “and I have assigned to him his -appointed place; mine it must be no longer; he is the son of Hugh -<a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>de -Broke, who is lately dead, and who, a few months since, was -accused of the murder of John de la Pole. I come to render -him a late, though, I trust, not useless justice, and restore the -honour of his house. This youth is not only the heir of the -fortunes of De la Pole, but of his father’s innocence, -since I only was the murderer of my brother.”</p> -<p>It would not be possible to paint all the feelings of the -audience who listened to this singular declaration, nor the -contrariety of opinions that pervaded the minds of men upon its -disclosure. Some asserted that derangement had fastened -upon the mind of Eustace, and that he only imagined the fact; -others, that grief had wearied him of existence, and that, -preferring to die by other hands than his own, he had chosen this -method of escaping from life and its convulsions; but the far -greater part (as is ever the case in human judgments) decided for -the darker side of the question, and concluded the -self-accusation to be just, and were only now interested in -analysing his motive. The will of the victim too became a -subject of infinite wonder; and when, to every interrogatory -(save those which implied the participation of Agatha, which he -instantly and earnestly denied,) Eustace remained mute, -indignation supplied the place of pity; and among those who had -been his intimates and friends, had eaten of his bread and drank -of his cup, there were not wanting some, who, baffled in their -eager pursuit of the marvellous, and offended that a secret was -denied to them, even hinted at the torture, as a means of -compelling a discovery of his motives and accomplices.</p> -<p>There are many whose sickly existences find <a -name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 148</span>health only -in the contemplation of the severer agonies of others; many who, -without either hatred or malignity, yet love to feed their -unnatural and craving appetites for singularities and horrors; -and would rather cherish them with the blood of a dear friend, -than suffer them to famish for want of sustenance. In small -communities and country places, this inclination in the -inhabitants is most apparent: here it was cruelly visible. -John de la Pole had always been a popular man, and his destiny -had afforded them a feast of blood, for which they felt grateful -to his memory; from his murderer they could exact it, and they -would: the loudest for justice appealed to the king for the -application of the torture, and those who pitied the sufferer did -not oppose the petition, as curious to behold the result.</p> -<p>The weak and inquisitive prince who then filled the English -throne, saw something singular and mysterious in the conduct of -the young De la Pole, and therefore unhesitatingly gave his -assent to the sentence of his judges. The torture was borne -by Eustace without a groan, though a close imprisonment of some -weeks might have weakened his spirit and exhausted his bodily -strength. He walked calmly and unsupported to the scene of -suffering, conversing steadily with Courtenay, who never for an -instant forsook him. From any outward tokens of anticipated -agony or terror, it would have been difficult to distinguish the -criminal from the spectator: he even smiled as he recognised his -acquaintances in the crowd assembled to gaze upon his -sufferings. There was only one action remarkable in his -bearing at this trying juncture; on ascending the scaffold, and -while they were binding his arms, his attention was <a -name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>arrested -apparently by some object near him, though no one could be seen -by the crowd, and during the whole period of the infliction of -the “peine forte et dure,” the victim kept his eyes -still fastened upon this spot, but without articulating a -word. When the accumulated weights pressed so heavily on -his sinking breast as to threaten dissolution, he raised his head -to look upon his mangled limbs, and surveyed them in silent -attention; he then turned his eyes to the spot which had so long -occupied their regards, and, pointing with a slow and solemn -motion to the load upon his breast, said, in a clear and steady -tone, “Thou see’st!”</p> -<p>Eustace was remanded to prison; his friends, his enemies, -those who were neither, all besought him with equal earnestness -not to die with this secret sin upon his heart; he smiled at -their anxiety, but answered nothing to their queries;—they -doubted his guilt, ascribed his conduct to madness, to -despair;—he replied by throwing off his cap and showing the -scar in his head, from which his brother, in the last agonising -grasp of death, had torn the dark and bloody lock which had once -so nearly condemned the unfortunate De Broke,—and they were -silenced. He continued steadfast to his -purpose—silent, sorrowful, but calm.</p> -<p>And where was Agatha during these scenes of insult and -endurance? Had she too forsaken the dungeon of her husband, -and given up her soul to exultation in his captivity and -anguish? She had once, and only once, demanded admittance -to his prison; she had remained with him many hours, and retired, -like himself, tranquillised from the interview. Soon after, -she formally <a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -150</span>resigned the castle and its dependencies to him whom -Eustace had named as the lawful heir: her own son and his claims, -were now no longer remembered, since the crime of his father had -deprived him of the succession, which had been awarded by the -king to the son of the injured De Broke. After these -arrangements, which were performed in silence and celerity, and -with only the casual assistance of Courtenay, Agatha withdrew -from her native town, and concealed her person and her sorrow for -ever from the eyes of the world.</p> -<p>But her desertion of her husband at the tremendous juncture -when he so much needed her help and consolation, was not regarded -with indignation by the many who considered the circumstances -under which she stood: <i>that</i> husband was a murderer, and of -whom? The terrible question needed no reply, and Agatha was -speedily acquitted! her absence too was a trivial circumstance -compared with that of her husband’s situation. All -eyes were turned to the prison at Winchester.</p> -<p>At length Eustace de la Pole was led out to die. It was -a splendid day in the season of autumn, on which his mortal -career was to terminate. Consideration for the princely -blood which flowed in his veins, had forbidden, in his case, the -strangulation by the degrading cord, and the axe and the block -had been substituted in its room. The novelty of the -circumstance drew many thousands round the scaffold, who awaited, -in feverish and almost angry impatience, the arrival of him who -was to furnish forth the spectacle of the day. He -came,—not indeed as before, with an erect and unassisted -step, for his <a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -151</span>limbs had been crushed, and his physical strength -destroyed; but his pale countenance was composed, and his soft -rich voice was steady and clear, as he conversed at intervals -with Courtenay, the priest, and the executioner, who received him -courteously, as, led by the two former, he ascended the steps of -the scaffold. Of the crowd around he took no heed, but with -calm and silent celerity prepared himself for the block. At -sight of the noble young man, bare-headed and disrobed for the -sad and ignominious death, there were many who could no longer -restrain their tears; and hard-hearted grey-headed men who, -hating his crime, believed they could find pleasure in his -sorrow, and went thither to feast upon his suffering, now wept -loudly for him whom, in their first feeling of horror, they had -cursed. He appeared unconscious of this change of temper, -and seemed rather disposed to hasten than to retard the -preparations, for he laid his head down upon his last pillow -before the executioner had entirely completed them. He had -himself promised to give the signal for the fall of the axe; and -while the multitude were anxiously awaiting this movement, they -beheld him suddenly raise his head from the block, and gaze -intently upon one particular spot upon the scaffold; all eyes -were instantly directed towards it, but to them at least no -object was visible. He gazed for a few moments with intense -earnestness, then calmly replacing his head upon the block, -exclaimed in solemn but eager accents, “Thou -see’st!” and gave the signal for his death. The -axe fell—heavily, rapidly—it was over—swifter -than thought. The executioner held up the gory head to the -people; the features were calm, the eyes <a -name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 152</span>closed; but -before he could utter the customary sentence, they had once more -opened and fixed themselves upon the same spot which had -attracted the last of their living regards; they appeared slowly -to follow the movement of some unseen object round the scaffold, -till they reached the opposite side; then they withdrew their -gaze, quivered for an instant, dropped, dark and immoveable, for -ever.</p> -<p>This, as many strange scenes, was however doomed to be -forgotten, like other things. Ten years passed away, and -ten other wonders had, during that period, interested or -frightened the people of Winchester and its surrounding -country. John and Eustace de la Pole were no more -remembered, or their story only casually mentioned as belonging -to the odd things that were; Courtenay had glided into middle -age, and the youth for whom Eustace had done so much, had long -since written man.—Ten years! How many and how -striking may be the changes of ten years! Courtenay had -long pondered over the destiny of Agatha, and sighed to think -whither her unhappy fate might have conducted her; but the long -interval which passed had almost swept her from his mind, when a -letter, in her unforgotten character, was one day put into his -hand. It was couched in brief and anxious terms, and -conveyed a request that he would immediately proceed to her -dwelling. Courtenay was no laggard in the cause of -humanity; he did not pause to speculate upon this address, or -even to wonder at its abruptness, but he set forward instantly, -and the morning of the following day saw him knock at a lonely -cottage on the coast of Dorsetshire, in the neighbourhood of -Corfe Castle. <a name="page153"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 153</span>The door was opened by Agatha -herself, who habited in the black robes which she had worn since -the sad death of the last of her husbands, received him with -courteous sadness. Years had not dimmed the beauty of her -matchless face, but sorrow had been busy with its expression; the -same lovely features were there, but their once bright character -was gone.</p> -<p>Their meeting was tenderly sorrowful: Agatha said little in -explanation until she had conducted her guest into an adjoining -chamber, and pointed out one object for his observation. -Stretched upon a couch, grown to boyhood, covered with wounds, -and unchanged in person, save that his deformities had now grown -more manifest, lay extended the ghastly boy, the only child of -Agatha and the helpless Eustace. Courtenay trembled as he -gazed; but the mother’s looks were calm. “He is -dead,” she said, on observing the emotion of her guest; -“what Heaven and Nature with so much difficulty spared, the -brutality of man has destroyed; he was my joy and sorrow, and -many a weary hour have I watched to snatch him from the yawning -grave: for ten years he has been my sole care; and for the -insults and scorn heaped upon his deformed and idiotic existence, -he found compensation in the tenderness of his mother. The -small pittance which I derived from my father was sufficient for -our wants; and never should I have called upon any former friend, -but for the cruel deed of yesterday; robbers from the waters -broke into my dwelling, and pillaged thence my property. I -knew not how it was; I had gone to a distance to buy food, and on -my return found the poor idiot thus. My only <a -name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 154</span>attendant, -an old woman, had been wounded in his defence; and from her I -with difficulty learned, that the convulsive movements of the -boy, and his pointing hand, as his menacing eye followed their -actions, had drawn upon him their wrath and its brutal -consequences. I am averse from again appearing in the -scenes which I have once and for ever abandoned, and therefore I -sent for thee, Courtenay, to spare myself the sad task of -interring the pale corpse of my boy, and drawing wondering and -inquisitive eyes upon my person and history.”</p> -<p>Courtenay was pleased with the confidence reposed in his -friendship. A brother’s love might have done less for -Agatha; it could not have effected more. Her wishes were -immediately performed; and he was preparing, with unintrusive -delicacy, to return to his home, when Agatha for a few moments -detained him; “You have deserved unlimited confidence at my -hands,” said she, “and you shall obtain it: he who is -now numbered with the ignominious dead desired it should be so, -and I withhold it no longer. You, in common with all the -world, were ignorant of the motives which impelled the unhappy -Eustace to the deed which he perpetrated; but you did not, in -common with all the world, forsake him in his utmost need: for -you he drew up the story of his sorrows, and placed it in my -hands to be given to you only when I saw the fitting time; that -time hath arrived. The child of sorrow is dead, and I shall -still more completely retire from a world where insignificance -and poverty are no protection from cruelty and avarice; a convent -will shortly receive me, and, if I continue to live, a newer and -better existence will be mine: if not, I <a -name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 155</span>shall have -done wisely in thus obeying the last command of -Eustace.”</p> -<p>Courtenay received the packet and retired; he lingered not a -moment to relieve the recluse of his presence, but returned to -Winchester, after receiving her commands to see her again in -three days: he then hastened to his apartment, and, with -trembling avidity, read, in the confessions of Eustace, the -secret story of the fortunes of De la Pole.</p> -<p>“I know that thou despisest me, Courtenay; I know that -thou deemest me no less a fool than a coward; thou didst bring me -the means of an honourable death, gavest into mine hands the -dagger and the drug, and I have rejected both: we disputed, -differed, parted, met again, and again renewed the subject; thou -didst even deign to persuade the coward (so thou thoughtest him) -to act like a man; but thy entreaties were unheeded and thy -counsel rejected: he will die like a thief and a -criminal—he will be hooted out of life; and curses will be -the torches to give light to his memory, that it sink not into -darkness and oblivion.</p> -<p>“Said I not that I was a sacrifice? that my punishment -was a propitiatory offering? Now again I say to thee the -same thing. Death would have few horrors for me (for it is -a thing I covet) without the ignominy of a public execution; to -offer my life for my wrong would be nothing, but to offer it up -thus!—This alone can satisfy immortal justice; this alone -can satisfy the spirit of the murdered man. Read and behold -the meaning.</p> -<p>“Thou knowest how fondly, contrary to his father’s -hope, John de la Pole loved the beautiful <a -name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 156</span>daughter of -Philip Forester, thy kinsman; but thou knowest not how much more -fervently she was adored by the wretched Eustace, and how -tenderly the gentle Agatha returned that love. Hope there -was none; for what had I to bribe the greedy father of my love, -when John de la Pole could hereafter lay the fortunes of his -house at her feet? Philip suspected the state of his -daughter’s heart, and had looked deeper than I imagined -into mine: he determined that a younger brother was not deserving -of his Agatha’s beauty, and, by cold civilities and hints -of my father’s and brother’s disapprobation, banished -me from his house. One thing alone gave consolation to my -blighted heart, the steadiness with which my father resolved -against the marriage of John with the object of our mutual -passion. In one of the sad conferences which I -occasionally, though now but seldom, held with my beloved Agatha, -it occurred to my imagination, that though my father had resolved -to dispose differently of the heir of his house, he might not -object to my union with the object of my choice; and I received -permission of my beloved to make the attempt upon his -feelings. I did so immediately, and, with a rapture which I -dare not now dwell upon, received his permission, and his solemn -promise to purchase the approbation of the selfish Forester, by -bestowing upon me one-fourth of his more than princely -fortune. He arranged to see Forester upon the following -day: the same evening I flew to Agatha. O Courtenay! didst -thou ever love? Those few blessed hours were the most happy -of my life, and the last that were so. We parted; Agatha -radiant with happiness; I, to think, to hope, to anticipate, to -wish all things <a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -157</span>could share my transports, to love creation, to love -God. In the morning my father was found dead on his couch; -and the following month Agatha became the wife of my -brother! Courtenay! didst thou ever love?</p> -<p>“Thou wilt ask, where was Eustace when his beloved was -thus sacrificed? Alas! sent to a distance, to execute some -commands of that brother upon whom I was so utterly -dependent. He had discovered my love, and thus, without my -suspecting his intentions, prevented its consequences: he -hastened to Agatha, represented the ruin she would bring upon me, -and his determination to abandon me for ever, unless she became -his wife; Forester, who was his ally, threatened her with his -curse; I know not all the artifices used,—I never could -listen to the detail. She became the wife of the man she -could not love, and I was suffered to wither beneath his roof, -while, with calm hypocrisy, he told his own tale, ostentatiously -enriched his younger brother, and declared he could not live -happy without him. Fool that he was!—stupid, -uncalculating idiot! He had torn asunder two burning -hearts, and expected to smother their fires; he had separated two -devoted beings, compelled them to live in each other’s -presence, and yet expected them to forget. Agatha abhorred -his sight—his very aspect was loathsome to her. I saw -her agonies,—I saw her daily shudderings at every -demonstration of his love; and cold dews of death spread over my -own heart when I beheld her submitting to his fondness. I -implored to be banished from the castle; I entreated to be -allowed the sad privilege of beholding Agatha no more: he could -not trust me from him, he said; <a name="page158"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 158</span>and I was obliged to remain. -Merciless idiot! blind looker into the human heart! Had he -consented, all might then have been well; but how did he dare -thus selfishly sport with torture? He went on a journey for -a few weeks; he commanded me to a distant part of the country on -business of importance to his interests: I went, but returned ere -half the allotted time for his absence had expired—to be -alone with Agatha—to see her unrestrained—to mingle -my tears with hers: I could not resist this one sad bliss, and I -hastened back to enjoy it.</p> -<p>“We met, the lover and the beloved, in grief—in -madness—in despair! Oh, wonder not, that when we -parted guilt should be added to the burthen of our sorrows; but -the terrible consciousness of crime changed at once our natures -and our deeds. Agatha’s horror of her husband -increased: and, now that she was mine, I determined she should no -more be his—to fly, and rob the castle for the means of -sustenance. Alas! I feared to expose her to scorn, should -we be unable to evade the pursuit of justice; and, even if in -this we should succeed, what means had I of subsistence when that -slender source should fail, proscribed, as we should be, in every -part of our native land? To live on, as I had lately done, -was still more impossible; since Agatha herself had armed her -bosom with a knife to be turned against her heart rather than -again endure the horrors of her husband’s love. Again -and again we met in passionate, though gloomy conference; and -thus continued to waste the time in fruitless debate until his -messenger announced his approaching return. Despair gave -wings to my thought; Agatha’s eye glanced on mine; she drew -the dagger <a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -159</span>from her breast, and I snatched it from her hand. -Our thoughts had spoken—there was no need of words—we -had understood each other without them.</p> -<p>“I hastened to conceal myself in the New Forest, near -the road through which he must pass on his return. He had -taken his confidential servant with him, and, rather than expose -myself to observation, I had determined to fire at him through -the trees, calculating and believing that the servant would -mistake the attack for that of concealed robbers, and fly, -leaving his master to his fate. But I had scarcely arranged -my mode of attack ere I heard a footstep in the road; I looked -out, and beheld him slowly advancing, with his eyes steadfastly -directed towards the towers of his castle, as if he sought out -the apartment of his wife. At the sight of him all prudence -vanished—all recollection of the calm attack which I had -meditated passed away from my mind; I did not even observe that -he was alone: hatred and rage filled my heart, and I rushed upon -him like a wild beast, tearing him to the earth by the bare -strength of sinew, and inflicting many mortal stabs upon his -breast: he grappled fiercely with me, struggled hard to rise, and -even drew his dagger, which I broke in his grasp before he could -strike one blow. He tore a lock of hair from my head, but, -during the terrible contest he had not uttered a single word, -till a deep and home-directed stroke upon his brow threw him -powerless on the sod, then he spoke gaspingly to his brother: -‘Have mercy upon me,’ he said, ‘have mercy; I -have wronged thee, but that is not the heaviest of my crimes; I -would live to repent: to expiate one, the deepest, darkest, let -me live; <a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -160</span>I dare not die. My father!—I overheard his -arrangements with thee—I could not bear to lose—he -was found dead on his couch—I smothered him in the -night. Mercy, mercy! O Eustace! let me live,—I -am not fit to die!’ But his words raised a wilder -fiend in my soul, that scared away the spirit of mercy. He -then had been the monster—he!—I raved aloud, -‘Murderer! thou art not fit to live—hell gapes for -thee—begone!’ I drew my dagger across his -throat; the blood gushed upon my face, upon my hands; he grinned, -scowled, gibbered as he sunk, but he spoke and struggled no -more.</p> -<p>“I hastened home,—but I saw not Agatha, neither -did I seek her during the long and terrible night that followed -the sunset crime: I dared not tell her what I had done; I could -not have borne to hear her speak of the sin which I had -committed. Towards the morning I grew calm; my fears and -horror subsided; I thought of the atrocious act of the guilty -dead, and, by degrees, persuaded myself that I had done an act of -justice; I began to calculate upon the consequences, and -seriously consider whether, by this deed, I had really achieved -the consummation of my wishes—the possession of my adored -Agatha; she was my sister, the widow of my brother; could I -legally become her husband? And, allowing the possibility, -was it probable that I should be permitted to do so? These -considerations gave birth to the action which followed; I forged -the extraordinary will which gave the succession to me, but only -with the hand of Agatha; and it appeared the more natural, as, -during the period of her wedlock, she had borne no child to her -husband. That night and succeeding day was thus intently -occupied. <a name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -161</span>On the following morning the corpse was discovered by -you. I had not seen Agatha, but, on hearing of her meeting -the body, hastened to calm her mind, and prepare her for the -will, which was opened after the interment. I made use of -the pretext of another love, to appear repugnant to the wishes of -my brother, and quitted the castle to appease the inquietudes of -Agatha, who entreated me not to see her again until I could make -her my wife.</p> -<p>“You remember the reading of that will; you remember the -arrival of De Broke; poor wretch! his drunken falsehoods, his -silly boasts, and above all, his ungoverned insolence, has cost -him fatally dear. I was not concerned at the suspicion -which fell upon him; on the contrary, I rejoiced it had found -such an object; but I trembled with horror when I beheld him -conducted to a dungeon, and reflected on the probability of his -paying the penalty of my crime. Guilty enough already, this -accumulation of sin appalled me, and I determined that innocent -blood at least should not cry out from earth against me. In -the night previous to the day fixed for his trial, which I -dreaded equally, whether he should be condemned or acquitted, I -sought his prison, and, by an exaggerated account of the popular -rage against him, prevailed upon him to accept the means of -escape; his servant who attended him, terrified by the picture I -drew of his master’s danger, united his entreaties to -mine. Hugh’s courage and fortitude gave way to our -solicitations; he fled, and preserved his life at the expense of -his honour and his peace.</p> -<p>“I cannot express to you how deep was the pang the ruin -of this man’s character gave me, <a -name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 162</span>nor how I -sunk from the eyes lifted to mine in commiseration, whenever his -name was mentioned before me; even now, now that I have rendered -back such severe justice, my heart sickens as I recall the curses -which I heard heaped upon his head as the murderer of John de la -Pole. I should have suffered less had they branded the -criminal unknown, but to hear an innocent man thus accused for -me—O Courtenay! thou knowest not, mayest thou never know, -remorse.</p> -<p>“I reasoned much even then upon the folly of this -conduct; I said, I am a cowardly villain, a sneaking murderer, -who fears the consequences of the crime he yet feared not to -commit. Why should I be careful of this man’s life? -what is his safety to me? his death might be my security, at -least would prevent suspicion from falling elsewhere; are not his -manners brutal, his heart selfish, avaricious, and cruel? who -will miss him from the earth? and by whom will his loss be -mourned? But it is my crime for which he will suffer, and -the curse of innocent blood will lie upon my head: neither has he -injured me, that I should doom him so hardly: I cannot even taste -the luxury of revenge. These thoughts disquieted me, and, -recurring more frequently than I could bear, influenced my -conduct in regard to the prisoner. ‘The means of -escape shall be offered to him,’ I said; ‘if, -innocent as he knows himself to be, he be coward enough to accept -them, he is worthy of the opprobrium which will cling to him, and -I ought not to grieve for that ruin of character which he himself -alone will effect.’</p> -<p>“With this wretched sophistry I endeavoured <a -name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 163</span>to -reconcile my conscience, and, strange to say, I succeeded; care -and regret departed from my bosom, and I looked forward to the -day of my approaching union with Agatha with an impatience which -I found it difficult to control: it came at length, and under -happy auspices, for all our friends were assembled around us, and -I saw in my beloved’s tranquil smile the scarce concealed -joy of her heart.</p> -<p>“You remember that day, Courtenay—you remember the -brilliant assemblage and the gay festival of night—you -remember how brightly sparkled the jest, how sweetly sounded the -song, and how every creature present seemed wrapped in the -delicious intoxication of the hour—you remember my parting -commands after Agatha had retired, to carouse till the day-break, -and make the young sun a witness of your felicity: you did so; it -was a scene of joy and splendour. Alas! there was another, -and a widely different, passing in a more retired part of the -castle.</p> -<p>“I must pause in my narrative here for a few moments; -all that has as yet been detailed has been plain and simple fact, -subject to no doubts, liable to no misconstructions; hitherto all -has been clear; that which will follow is wild, strange, and -improbable—mysterious, incomprehensible indeed, yet not -less true than that which I have hitherto written. How -shall I make you understand what I have to present to your -mind? In what words shall I clothe a narrative so -extraordinary as to prevent its stamping me with the opprobrium -of folly or madness? Even now, in my dying hour, on the -very steps of the scaffold, I hesitate at the thought of being -lightly esteemed by thee, or my sacrifice regarded as the result -of a <a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -164</span>weakened intellect or a disordered brain: it is more -easy to die as a knave than be lamented as a fool.</p> -<p>“Agatha had withdrawn from the hall with her damsels, -and I hastened to follow her; she had retired to an apartment -adjoining her bridal chamber, and thither, wearied of the noise -and mirth of the rioters below, I also hastened. I longed -for a delight I had not lately experienced, an unreserved -conversation with my wife, and to be allowed to dismiss the -coldness which, during the day, I had been obliged to feign -towards her. The damsels retired, and we were left to pour -out our hearts to each other in the unbounded confidence of our -new relation, when we were startled by hearing a slow and heavy -foot steadily ascending the stairs; as these were private, -leading only to our apartments, Agatha was surprised and -offended. ‘Who would intrude at this hour?’ she -demanded, while her eyes turned anxiously towards the door. -For me, a thrill of horror shot through my inmost heart; I said, -relinquishing the hand I had till then so fondly clasped in mine, -‘<i>That is the step of my brother</i>!’</p> -<p>“And it was so, Courtenay: a moment more and the door -slowly opened of itself to give entrance to its master; John de -la Pole entered the room and stood between Agatha and me; his -face was as in his dying hour, ghastly and menacing, and every -gash of the murderous knife upon his body as frightfully distinct -as on the night they were inflicted. In one hand he held a -lock of dark hair; the other was extended threateningly towards -me; and thus he stood between us, drawn from another world by the -crime I <a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -165</span>meditated against his bed, and an everlasting barrier -before me.</p> -<p>“My first emotion was astonishment—a boundless and -stupefied surprise—then a vague and horrid notion that my -brother was not really dead, that he had escaped alive from my -hands, and was now come to accuse and surrender me up to -scorn. The interval which had passed since his death was -obliterated from my mind, and I felt as if that night had been -the season of the deed. I spoke in extenuation of my crime, -accused his selfishness, cursed his calculating cruelty; I -implored his mercy, folded my hands in supplication, and knelt -before him in humble debasement. No muscle of his -countenance moved, and not a sound escaped through his bruised -and blackened lips; he did not even look upon me, but continued -to fasten his stony eyes upon the face of Agatha, who stood -silent and motionless as himself, gazing like a fascinated thing -upon this aspect of horror. I arose from my -knees—shut my eyes—tossed my arms abroad to the -air—endeavoured to think I was in sleep, in drunkenness, in -delirium: no, <i>he was still there</i>!—I thought of the -agony of tempestuous feeling I had endured on the night following -the commission of the crime, and, believing that my jaded mind -was suffering under the same infliction, resolved to seek my -couch, to restore my exhausted spirits by rest and sleep. I -made an effort to move from my place; I knew that motion might -recall my scattered senses; and I exerted myself to enter the -chamber of Agatha. Wilt thou believe me, Courtenay? the -stern shadow anticipated my movement, and, menacing me back, -strode silently towards my bridal chamber. <a -name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 166</span>At the door -its menacing attitude towards me was changed for one of command -to Agatha; one bloody finger was raised to beckon her to follow: -she did so. Still stupidly insensible, gazing fixedly upon -his form, she followed the direction of his hand, and passed -after him into the chamber: the door closed upon them without a -sound.</p> -<p>“Now I began to think more calmly: the dead, cold thing -was gone, and there was life and air in the apartment; the -feelings of this world came upon me, and I became sensible of -fear. I was safe; but where was Agatha?—<i>he</i> had -beckoned her forth—was it reality?—she was -gone—had it been the work of imagination, she had still -been there—but she might have retired to her chamber -alone. This was to be ascertained. I attempted to -enter—the door was fast; I called upon Agatha—there -was no sound in reply; I reviewed the last scene, considered the -incidents of the past, weighed the appearances of the present, -and came at length to the terrible conclusion that a spirit of -the damned had stood before me, and that Agatha was still in his -grasp! You will not wonder that temporary insanity followed -this hideous idea: I grew wild at the thoughts of her danger; I -shrieked aloud for mercy; I tore my hair in agony, and beat at -the closed door with the utmost exertion of strength. I -wonder even now that none heard the uproar I made; but my cries -remained unanswered—no sound issued from the bridal chamber -of the dead, and I continued to rave until nature, exhausted, -sunk speechless and senseless to the earth.</p> -<p>“Morning had broken over the apartment when I awoke, and -I was some moments in recovering recollection of my state and -circumstances; slowly <a name="page167"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 167</span>the truth came before me. I -was lying extended on the bare ground, the lights had burned out, -and there was no trace of visitors having been near me in my -sleep. I arose and listened for some sound that might -direct my first movements, for now I knew not what to think nor -to do. A low sobbing from the chamber of Agatha rivetted my -attention; I sprung towards the door, and, to my astonishment, it -yielded to the slightest touch: I entered; Agatha was there, -seated upon the bed, and gazing around her with a look of -agonising affright; she saw me on the instant, and rushed into my -arms. ‘Thou art here! thou art safe!’ she cried -in delirious transport; ‘and for this I am at least -grateful; I deemed he had destroyed thee. But thou didst -leave me, Eustace. O quit me not, I beseech thee! save me -from him, Eustace, for thou alone canst!’ I -endeavoured to soothe her anguish, and, after some time, -succeeded in restoring her to tranquillity and composure enough -to be made acquainted with the real state of our circumstances; -and I implored her to inform me whither the ghastly phantom had -led her, on their retiring from the chamber. She shuddered -at the question, and a wild and strange expression passed over -her countenance ere she spoke. ‘I will tell -thee,’ she said; ‘yet it is but little that I have to -say. To this room we came, and our footsteps wandered no -further. Without a word he gave his commands to me, and -without a word I obeyed him. I ascended my bridal bed, he -had willed it so, and he continued to gaze upon me till my head -sunk upon the pillow; then the ghastly thing sat down by my side, -and though I closed mine eyes hard that I might not behold him, -yet I felt that the shadow of his unearthly <a -name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>face was -upon me. Once I looked up in the hope that he was gone; -beholding him I shrunk, and would have called upon thee, but the -stony eye of the spectre grew larger, and a fiendish pang passed -over the immoveable face; then I hid mine in my mantle that I -might look upon him no more: insensibility succeeded, and I -slept; in the morning I awoke, and he was gone!’</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/fpb.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Agatha, Eustace, and the Spectre" -title= -"Agatha, Eustace, and the Spectre" - src="images/fps.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>“This was the tale of Agatha! thou wilt doubt its truth, -nor can I wonder at thy most natural incredulity: yet I would now -give my few short hours of life, precious as they may be, that -thou hadst been present and <i>seen</i> her tell this story; I -can give thee her words, her form of expression, but what -language of mine can portray her looks as she spoke, or describe -the harrowing tones of her voice as she cried to me for -protection? I doubted not; for these powerful witnesses -would have carried conviction to my mind, had I not already -beheld the shadowy thing she spoke of.</p> -<p>“What could I offer in consolation? We wept bitter -tears together, and mingled our tender grief. If we -indulged a momentary hope that it was but an illusion of the -brain, and would return no more, we were quickly undeceived at -the approach of night. Again came the ghastly shadow, and -again was the spirit of Agatha chained by the sleep of death in -his presence. Nor were his visitations confined to the dark -and silent hour of night; when we met in the morning, to lament -our fate and weep from our stuffed bosoms the weight that pressed -upon our hearts, then, with a hideous familiarity, he would stand -between us, mocking, with his menacing grin and uplifted finger, -the agony his presence created.</p> -<p>“<i>Another</i> night came; we sat alone, solitary, <a -name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 169</span>speechless, -motionless; hour after hour passed, and we moved not, except to -cast stern regards towards the door, or listen with repressed -impatience to every sound in the castle. Slowly, at last, -came the step of the dead, heavily ascending the stairs;—he -entered—I rushed to meet him, and the long pent up agony of -my soul burst forth in madness uncontrolled. -‘Monster!—murderer!—destroyer of thy father and -thy brother! why comest thou thus to torture and not kill? why is -thy bloody hand for ever raised, and yet forbearing to -fall? If thine aim be vengeance, -strike—strike—strike—thou blood-bespotted -horror! and rend from hope and from life those who dared to make -thee what thou art!—Strike, thou silent, sullen thing! that -we may be as thou art, and learn to fear thee not!’</p> -<p>“I darted towards him, but was arrested by some -invisible barrier ere I had traversed half the distance between -us; I could not reach him, but sunk, as if felled by an unseen -blow, helpless and almost senseless, to the ground: <i>he</i> did -not even look upon me, but again sternly summoned Agatha from the -chamber, as nightly he had done before. I—but -wherefore dwell upon these agonies? Suffice it to say, that -these accumulated horrors at length drove me from the side of -Agatha to solitude and reflection: sorrow came upon my -soul—a sorrow less for my crime than for its fatal -consequences. ‘Alas!’ I said, ‘perhaps -the tormentor is himself more keenly punished by these hauntings -than either of his shrinking victims: said he not, in the hour of -death, that he too was a murderer? and did he not pray for time -in which to expiate the sin? Surely, surely, these -visitations must be the hell of the parricide.’</p> -<p><a name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -170</span>“And a feeling of remorse arose in my mind, as I -deemed it possible that these unnatural hauntings might be -involuntary. I had stabbed at the life of my brother, and -plunged his unprepared spirit into the hell which awaited it; and -surely a more bitter one than looking again upon the secret deeds -of the survivors, could not well be imagined. Agatha, too, -no longer wept over her separation from me, but hourly called -upon Heaven for pity and for pardon; madness and anguish passed -away from her heart, and sorrow and repentance entered it.</p> -<p>“I could not repent; at least I could not feel -self-condemnation to that degree which I had been early taught -was so necessary—that perfect sorrow which abhorred the -crime and the criminal, and which, they say, is alone the gift of -Heaven—<i>that</i> I did not feel: still, still did my -inmost soul worship the thought of Agatha, and abhor the -treachery of John de la Pole. I could not regret that I had -avenged my wrong—I could not repent that I had attempted to -make her mine; I knew that were the deed again to do—again -should I dare, and perform it.</p> -<p>“Repentance then was not mine; but I despaired of peace, -and knew how to punish crime: I was not yet weary of life; and -though tears of remorse did not fill my eyes for my -brother’s early doom, yet his unnatural tortures now, and -Agatha’s suffering, seemed to call for something like -justice from my hand. ‘Perhaps, in the stern mood in -which I am,’ I said, ‘the sacrifice will be greater -than if repentance struck; and believing myself sure of -forgiveness, I hastened to make my peace with Heaven. Yes; -I will die—I will inflict <a name="page171"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 171</span>death upon myself as I would upon -another, and expiate crime with blood!’</p> -<p>“But I hesitated still; death, contemplated so near, in -any shape, was horrible; but, dealt by the hand of the -executioner—I shrunk from the thought, and could not bear -the shadow of a stain upon the honour of my house; so I went on -from day to day, dreaming of justice but rendering none, till the -birth of Agatha’s son. Thou wast surprised, I -believe, at the little emotion I betrayed at its sight: alas! I -had long been prepared for some object of horror, and now it was -before me. Thou didst behold the action of the ghastly -child; thou sawest the menacing finger upraised towards my head, -and the calm determination with which I met this image: its -presence had banished my indecision. I believed now that -Agatha was lost to me for ever,—that Eternal Justice by -this sign spoke against me, and, in punishment of my hardness of -heart, had thus perpetuated the remembrance of my crime. -Now, then, I <i>resolved</i> to die: I communicated my purpose to -Agatha, and earthly feelings once more gained the mastery over my -subdued spirit, and burst forth in words of grief and reproach, -on observing that she evinced no horror at my approaching fate, -and scarcely attempted to dissuade me from my purpose! -Agatha, for whom I had dared and suffered so much—even she -had become indifferent to my destiny: it was indeed time to -die! But I did her wrong; sorrow had broken her heart, and -repeated scenes of horror had subdued and weakened her -spirit. With the feeling common to her sex, she sought -consolation only in religion, and thought that to reconcile -herself with Heaven was all that was left her <a -name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 172</span>now: love -had fled with every other human passion, and far from regarding -death as an evil, she looked upon it as a passport to bliss, and -was more ready to rejoice at than deprecate my fate. Her -conduct assisted my resolution. Now, then, the first step -was to be made—the most difficult and appalling—the -rest would be consequential and easy. It was necessary to -begin, and I knew of no better mode than that of rendering -justice to the living. Hugh de Broke had been ruined by me, -and it was now incumbent upon me to restore him to honour and to -happiness: I set out for the distant and humble dwelling in -which, since his escape, he had been obliged to conceal his name -and dignity: he was stretched upon a sick-bed—a -heart-broken and a dying man: it was no physical disease of which -he was expiring,—but disgrace had poisoned the fountain of -his blood, and shame had eaten its way like a canker-worm to his -heart. When he saw me, he shook off his dying listlessness, -and sprung upright in his bed. ‘What more wouldst -thou have, thou blaster of mine honour!’ he said, ‘of -a ruined and dying man? To thy pernicious counsel I owe the -shame no after-conduct can efface: cursed, cursed coward that I -was! why did I heed or believe thy murderous mercy? Begone, -wretch! and let me die. I cannot shake off this load of -shame, but I shall sink under its burthen, and bequeath its -remorse to thee; go, wretch! and let me die.’</p> -<p>“He was submissively attended by his wife and son, who -were earnest with me to relieve him of my presence. Sorrow, -and the near approach of death, had softened his heart and -chastised the natural brutality of his manners; he looked and -spoke more mildly to them, though, with all his <a -name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 173</span>failing -strength, he continued to heap maledictions upon me. My -humiliations were now to begin; I kneeled down by his side, -detailed my crime without any palliation, asked his forgiveness -for the injury I had done him, and finished by avowing my -resolution to deliver myself into the hands of justice, and -restore his fame and happiness.</p> -<p>“I was astonished, that during this confession no word -had been uttered by him whom it so deeply concerned. I -looked up to behold its effect; he was staring wildly at me, the -strong energies of his spirit struggling with the grasp of death -to gain time to hear its termination; he strove hard to -articulate something; and finally whether he conquered for some -few moments the mighty power that was wrestling with him, or that -that power had now incorporated itself with his victim, and given -him of its potency, I knew not, but he suddenly grew calm and -passionless, pain and convulsion left him, his features assumed a -pale rigidity, and his voice the solemn earnestness of the grave, -as he spoke. ‘I have no time for question,’ he -said; ‘but I pray that the truth may be upon thy lips: -soon, very soon, shall we meet again; and my pardon shall be -truly thine when thou shalt tell me that my boy sits with honour -in the halls of his fathers.’ He paused, placed the -hand of his son in mine, and expired without a groan.</p> -<p>“What followed, I need not tell thee; the son of Hugh -was restored, and Eustace consigned to a dungeon. The -attempts of the people to force from me my secret, you know how I -resisted; calmly and even proudly I went to my prison and -prepared myself to die. I had humbled <a -name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 174</span>myself to -De Broke, for to him I had done deep and particular injury; but -to these men I owed no other reparation than what my life would -pay: what right had they to demand further humiliation of me, or -attempt to rend from my bosom the mystery of its secret -purpose? I would die unaccusing, save myself; I would die, -shrouded in gloomy dignity,—a man to be wondered at and -feared, rather than pitied and scorned. I will willingly -furnish their greedy eyes with the awful feast of death, but not -their vulgar souls with the struggles and humiliations of mine; -my body is the law’s—is theirs; my spirit is beyond -their judgment. John de la Pole shall sleep on, embalmed in -good opinions; I will not raise up his pall to show them what -corruption festers beneath it; I would not tell them what he -<i>was</i>, though it should even lessen in their thought the -horror of what I <i>am</i>. Grand and silent -death—majestic in thy obscurity—I wait to bid thee -welcome!</p> -<p>“Thus far had I written, and thought that my story in -the book of life had come to its close, but other events have -crowded upon me; and before my death, (which will be on the -morrow,) I would tell thee the incidents of the last few -days. Thou knowest how calmly I beheld thee depart from my -prison, and how little emotion I manifested at my fate; but when -thou wert gone, when I was alone, in chains, degraded, the -enthusiasm of the moment past, and my spirit inactive, I wept -bitter tears at the waywardness of my early fate; yet I relaxed -not in my determination; I came hither to die, and nothing was -left me but to finish my purpose nobly. It is my will to -doom a murderer, and I am he so doomed. <a -name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 175</span>I wept, yet -persisted; cursed the cruelty which had destroyed me, and yet -prayed to my brother for pardon. Of the future I had as yet -scarcely thought; hitherto I had been solely employed about the -method of quitting this world, without much considering the terms -of my admission to another; now I pondered long, with anxiety, -but not with fear. Creeds puzzled me—I made not my -own heart—I cannot be answerable for its opinions. I -have committed a deadly sin—I am about to expiate it with -my blood—I cannot do more; and is not this sacrifice -greater than the cant of sorrow and the whinings of prayer from -one who never prayed before? The one is from myself, the -child of my resolution—the other the offspring of -fear—But I was distracted still, and bewildered. It -was in this disturbed state that I was startled by a light sound -in my prison—I listened—a soft voice, for the second -time, pronounced in kindly accents, ‘My -brother!’ I started up and gazed around me; on the -opposite side of my dungeon stood the form of John de la Pole, -but not as I had seen him last, pale, menacing, and bloody, but -with that mild aspect and gentle look that had distinguished his -early brotherhood, ere Agatha’s fatal beauty cut asunder -the knot that bound our souls together. ‘Thou hast -done well,’ said the gentle spirit, ‘thus to render -up thy life for thy crime; thy severe justice hath merited and -obtained thy pardon; my sufferings, too, the punishment for -unrepented sin, thy firmness hath terminated; and the day of -Agatha shall henceforth flow more peaceful. Soon shalt thou -be with me, O brother! and the kiss of immortality shall be given -to thee by my lips: weep not—doubt not—but bear all -things steadfastly; <a name="page176"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 176</span>in thine hour of agony I will stand -by thy side.’</p> -<p>“A tender grief overpowered my spirit as he spoke, and -tears fell from my eyes. I extended my arms as if I would -have embraced him, but the barrier between the living and the -dead could not as yet be passed, and the shadow receded from my -touch. But this visitation had brought joy to my heart and -tranquillity to my spirit, and the arrival of Agatha at the -prison still further reconciled me to my doom. ‘Thy -sacrifice is hallowed,’ she said; ‘thou wilt die, but -I must live to expiate my crime, as the slave of thy ghastly son, -till Heaven shall call him to itself. <i>He</i> stood by my -couch last night; smilingly he looked upon me, as in the days of -his early love, and bade me live and hope: in this world I shall -behold him no more! but thou, my beloved! thou art for the -distant land, and the abode whither he is gone before thee. -Oh that I might share thy doom, as I have already partaken thy -guilt!’</p> -<p>“We parted—let me not dwell upon that—we -parted for ever; for me there remained a mighty duty to fulfil, -and from which I did not shrink—no, not even when those who -had been my friends sought to wring my secret from my heart by -the infliction of the torture: I pitied <i>them</i>, but not -myself.</p> -<p>“The day of torture came; thou wert by my side, and -didst urge a voluntary death to rescue me from agony and the -stare of burning eyes eagerly watching my pangs. I rejected -thy counsel; yet didst thou not forsake me, but marched to the -scene of my infamy by my side. All around, as I went -thither, did I look for the promised appearance of my brother, -and trembled lest I <a name="page177"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 177</span>should not behold him. -‘Surely this is mine hour of agony,’ I said, as I -ascended the steps of the scaffold; ‘wherefore is he not by -my side?’ And the guest from the other -world,—he beneath whose scowl my heart had for months been -withering,—was desired with more impatience than ever I had -felt for the presence of earthly friends. I had not long to -fear or to doubt—he was there before me; on reaching the -scaffold, I beheld him standing by the block, and calmly and -silently smiling a welcome to his brother. Thou didst -behold my firmness, and the multitude saw my composure with -wonder; but they beheld not the cause; they saw not that -<i>he</i> was looking on, and that I drew in resolution from his -smile, and firmness from his awful brow.</p> -<p>“The ineffectual agony was past—curiosity was -silenced—and I was condemned to die; and to-morrow I -<i>shall</i> die,—from all that I have loved hated, or -valued, I shall be torn to-morrow. The last sunset is -falling upon my paper, is gilding my pen as I write; to-morrow it -will sparkle upon the edge of the axe, and illuminate a brow from -which the inward light will have departed for ever; to-morrow -will be the scene of my last humiliation: but <i>he</i> will be -there to witness it, and convert it by his presence into a -triumph; and, when all shall be over, when the last mortal throb -shall be past, what then shall be my destiny? ‘Thou -art pardoned,’ he said; ‘and an immortality is before -thee!’ Oh, then let me hope for an immortality of -peace! Now, then, I will go sleep—exhausted nature -must be recruited for her great labour to-morrow—for these -broken limbs, these strained sinews, and this bruised flesh, must -needs want repose, ere they can encounter <a -name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 178</span>the task of -fresh exertion. Serve me well, ye mangled limbs, but -to-morrow, and I shall require your service no -more.—Courtenay, good night.”</p> -<p>Such was the tale of the fratricide, and of him who was his -victim: of her who survived the deaths of both, no more was -heard; for upon Courtenay’s going to the cottage at the -period she had appointed to receive her last commands, he learned -she had quitted it two days previous, but had left a small parcel -to be given to him: it contained a few remembrances of herself -and Eustace, and the following letter:—</p> -<blockquote><p>“<span -class="smcap">Courtenay</span>—</p> -<p>“In giving thee the papers containing our story, I have -obeyed the last wish of him whose lightest word was a law to me; -but I cannot look on thee again after this communication. -Grieve not for me, for my lot will not be wretched; the death of -my child has released me from the world, and I hasten to withdraw -myself from it: I had arranged all things for the purpose before -I sent to request thy presence. Endeavour not to discover -me; such search would be fruitless and vain. I retire from -the kingdom; and in a convent of Clairs, beneath the habits and -rules of the order, and under another name, conceal for ever, -from the eyes of the world, the person, the crime, and the sorrow -of</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“<span class="smcap">Agatha de -la Pole</span>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 179</span>THE -LORD OF THE MAELSTROM.</h2> -<h3>PART I.<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RAVEN.</span></h3> -<blockquote><p>—Hell is empty,<br /> -And all the Devils are here.</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span -class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">Somewhere</span> about the year 112, in -winter or summer—we are not exactly prepared to say -which—died Olave the Second, one of the early kings of -Denmark; he was a “fellow of no reckoning,” for he -took no account of any thing that occurred during his reign, -except the making of strong drink, and the number of butts in his -cellar. His majesty, it must be avowed, was in the -presumptuous habit of forestalling the joys of heaven, (we mean -Odin’s,) that is to say, he impiously got drunk every day -of his life, before the regular allowance of fighting, the -customary number of enemies’ broken heads, and his own -orderly death upon the field of battle, bore testimony that he -was properly qualified for such supreme enjoyment. Olave in -his life was a happy fellow; for, never having been sober during -one hour of it, he had not the misfortune to hear all the -ill-natured things that his courtiers and subjects said of his -enormities, behind his back, or when he was asleep. It -must, however, be acknowledged that, <a name="page180"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 180</span>even among the unscrupulous Danes, -who were not at that period remarkable for their practice of -sobriety, Olave was a filthy fellow: to this hour he is held up -as a monument of brutality and stupidity, and the memory of -Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin, was not more -devoted to execration among the Jews, than that of king Olave the -Second among the Danes. On his death-bed, however, when he -could no longer swallow his usual enlivening potations, blue -devils beset his nights, and conscience twitted him with his -ill-spent days. He had never broken a head in his life, -except by proxy; and how could he make his appearance in Valhalla -without a skull to drink out of?—to knock at the gates of -Valasciolf without a goblet in his hand?—The thing was -impossible; it was clear he would be kicked through Asgard, and -sent to fret in Nifthiem, where the burning claws of Lok would -set fire to the good liquor incorporated with his being, and -reduce him to the condition of an eternal, thinking -cinder!—Miserable anticipations! he tried to weep; but -water, which he had hitherto scorned, now scorned him, and -absolutely refused to come at his desire: he shed tears of mead, -which he caught in his mouth as fast as they fell, partly from -fear lest Odin should remark them, and partly because he could -not endure to see good liquor wasted.</p> -<p>But all things have an end—in this world at -least—and so it was with the life and repentance of king -Olave the Second; he died without the drinking-cup he had -regretted so deeply, and before he had time to frame a decent -apology to Odin for venturing into Valhalla without one. -There was a world of business now to be done at the <a -name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 181</span>palace of -Sandaal: a dead king to be buried, and two living kings to be -crowned; for such was the will of the lamented Olave, that both -his sons should succeed him. They were princes of very -different characters, yet their father, it should seem, loved -them equally, as he divided his dominions very fairly between -them, to the no small disgust of the elder prince, Frotho, who, -like the imperial Octavius, some years before, could not bear a -divided throne. This worthy in character resembled, in no -slight degree, his excellent father, of dozy memory, for he loved -to drink much and fight little,—more especially as his -younger brother Harold had a decided vocation for the latter -employment, and none at all for the former: to him, therefore, he -left the charge of the glory of the Danish crown, while he, for -the present, contented himself with drinking to his -successes. This good understanding, however, between the -princes could not last for ever. Frotho was, after all, -only half a drunkard, and therefore extremely sulky in his -cups—more especially when his queen Helga seated herself at -his elbow to twit his courage with the heroic deeds of his -brother. Queen consorts should not meddle with politics, -they never do anything but mischief—and so it proved in -this instance; for Frotho grew absolutely delirious, kept himself -entirely sober for three whole days, buckled on his wooden -target, put himself at the head of his troops, and, swearing to -be revenged upon his brother, marched on an expedition to -Jutland. The expedition neither answered his intentions nor -expectations; the men of Jutland were too many for king Frotho, -for, headed by Feggo, (the murderous uncle of the philosophic -Hamlet, <a name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -182</span>whose father was prince only of this part of Denmark,) -they drove Frotho “home without boots, and in foul weather -too,” as Glendwr did, long afterwards, king Harry -Bolingbroke. Frotho could not stomach this -affront—the beating was hard of digestion: his subjects -made mouths at him too, and mimicked a race whenever he appeared -in public. So he sent his brother, king Harold, who was a -fighter to the back-bone, to chastise the Jutlanders, which when -he had done most effectually, Frotho grew more angry still; he -detested his brother, dreaded his popularity, feared his wisdom, -and quivered at his anger,—so he began to consider -seriously how he might cleverly and quietly put him out of the -way.</p> -<p>King Frotho had two counsellors, neither of whom ever agreed -with the other in the advice they gave his majesty: the reason -was tolerably obvious, for the one was an honest man, the other a -rogue, and, like the Topaz and Ebene of Voltaire, they bewildered -the unhappy monarch with the diversity of their opinions and -advice. On this occasion, however, king Frotho troubled -only the rogue for his advice, which he was pretty certain -beforehand would not differ very widely from his own. Eric -Swen was an unprincipled ragamuffin, who hated Harold, because he -had discovered that Harold hated his vices; and, as that prince -had two sons who were rising into manhood, he shuddered at the -prospect of two or three strict warrior reigns, which would -certainly bring virtue into fashion: the prince had refused him, -too, the hand of his sister, which, to make the refusal more -bitter, he had bestowed upon his rival in the council and camp, -Frotho’s general, Haquin. All these offences were -carefully summoned up, to <a name="page183"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 183</span>inflame his ire against Harold, by -the devil, in the shape of Frotho, who promised him—Heaven -knows what—both on earth and in Valhalla, if he would only -push king Harold from his share of the stool, and leave both -halves of it to Frotho.</p> -<p>Notwithstanding all the provocations on both sides, the -confederates were two or three whole years before they could -“screw their courage to the sticking place,” that is, -to the pitch necessary for the murder of king Harold. They -had sent fifty inconsiderable nobles, whom they had found -troublesome, to Asgard, without ceremony; but Harold was a king -and a warrior, and required a good deal. “If we could -but pour poison into his ear,” said Eric; “Or into -his cup,” replied Frotho; “Or stab him in his -sleep,” said Eric; “Or coax him out hunting with -us,” replied the brother, “and give it to him quietly -in the forest.” But none of these safe plans would -answer;—so Frotho, accompanied by his sole and trusty -counsellor, rode off for the forest, to find the cave where, -tradition said, had resided, from the days of the -“Avate” of Odin, his enemy Biorno, the descendant of -Lok, grand nephew of Surter, and first cousin to the Wolf Fenris -and Serpent Midgard. Frotho, however well disposed to beg -the aid and advice of the sorcerer, by no means felt at ease when -he considered the family to which he belonged: the wolf and the -eternal earth-circling snake were known to bear no very great -partiality to the race of Odin,—and Frotho, they knew, if -they knew any thing, was a true son of their enemy. Still -the Danish monarch trotted on with his squire till they reached -the centre of the forest.</p> -<p>“After all, Eric,” said his majesty, as they <a -name="page184"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 184</span>trotted on -cosily together; “after all”—but, as an -historian, I must make one observation here: you are aware, dear -reader, that the Scandinavians of the year 112, and some time -after, did not use the same simple, plain, common-place sort of -style which they have adopted to express their meaning -now-a-days. If we may believe their own writers, they were -always in alt, gave their commands in a kind of heroic prose, and -carried on dialogues in a sort of rambling blank verse. It -must therefore be obvious to you, dear reader, that I spare you -their language, and only give you their sentiments, which, to the -best of my humble ability I will translate for you into decent -colloquial English, the better to carry your patience through the -long-winded history which I am preparing as a trial for it. -But to return to Frotho the fifth of Denmark. “After -all, Eric,” said he, “I have perhaps no great reason -to fear these ugly immortals: as I am going to consult their -kinsman, and am withal very well disposed to put an end to the -race of Odin, (that part of it at least most devoted to him,) I -think they may be civil to me. My own son Sevald is the -only member of the family I wish to preserve, and I may soon -mould him to my own opinions. If the sorcerer will only -dispose of Harold for me, or tell me how I may safely dispose of -him, I shall not haggle on the terms of assistance; I will do any -thing to serve him or his, which may not interfere with my own -safety, or rob me of the diadem I am so anxious to wear -alone.” Eric was about to reply to his magnanimous -master, but paused, half afraid, as he discovered they were -really in the sorcerer’s neighbourhood, for the yawning -mouth of the cave was actually staring them in <a -name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 185</span>the -face. Frotho, as became him, now took the lead, and marched -dauntlessly forward, though not without a glance backward now and -then to see if Eric was close behind him, and as any sound struck -upon his ear that bore any resemblance to a hiss or a howl. -At length, after many turnings and windings, he found himself in -a cavern of large dimensions, broadly lighted by a huge iron -lamp, suspended from the upper part of it. He turned round -to make some remark to his patient tail-piece, but was petrified -to observe that he had fallen to the earth stiff and insensible -to every thing around him. The Danish monarch’s -cheeks waxed pale, and his knees began to smite each other; -nevertheless he grasped the hilt of his falchion, as a slight -noise on the opposite side withdrew his attention from the -insensible Eric Swen; there stood an old man of reverend aspect, -mildly but steadily gazing upon the king: “Art thou he whom -I have been so long taught to expect?” said the sorcerer; -“art thou the king of the race of Odin, alone chosen by his -invincible foe to render a service to the son of Lok, and deserve -the everlasting gratitude of his children? If indeed thou -art the appointed, I bid thee highest welcome, for the task -decreed to thee hath been denied to the immortals, above whom the -grateful Lok will raise thee.”</p> -<p>Frotho recovered his spirits at this address; half his -business was already done, for his wishes were anticipated. -He had been so little accustomed to receive compliments from his -subjects, that his opinion of his own endowments had not been -particularly high; but now he began to think he had mistaken -himself, and was really a much greater man than he had -suspected. He readily <a name="page186"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 186</span>promised obedience to the sorcerer, -upon certain terms, and assured him of his assistance when and -wherever it might be demanded. The magician then proceeded -to inform him that he was himself a descendant of Lok, and an -ally of the spirits of fire, those daring beings who had for so -many thousand years waged war with various success against Odin -and his warriors, and which warfare would not cease till the end -of the world; when, during a night which was to last a year, -there would be a general battle, in which Earth, Niftheim, and -Asgard, would go to wreck, and the conquering party be elevated -to a newer and more beautiful heaven in Gimle,—while -Nastrande, a still gloomier hell, would be made out of the -fragments of the old one, for the accommodation of the party -conquered. “Balder!” exclaimed Frotho, starting -at this part of the story,—for he never liked to hear any -thing of the old hell, which he thought quite bad enough without -the spirits troubling themselves about the creation of another; -“but I thought, sir sorcerer, that the wicked alone would -be punished in Nastrande after the long night and battle of the -gods; I thought”—“Exactly so, my son,” -interrupted the sorcerer; “the wicked certainly; for the -conquered <i>will</i> be the wicked—that is beyond dispute; -but <i>who</i> will conquer is not so certain; perhaps Lok, -perhaps Odin—each, as far as I see, have an equal chance; -take part then with us, and share our danger and glories in the -next world, and our certain assistance in this.” To -this world, then, (as king Frotho had at present more business in -it,) he limited his wishes, and gave Biorno his steady attention -as he proceeded in his narrative, “Odin,” the -magician continued to <a name="page187"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 187</span>observe, “though utterly -unable to chain entirely the powers of Lok, had just now -decidedly the advantage; for he had a few hundred years before -seized upon his eldest son, the unwary Surter, whom he had caught -out of his own territories, and wedged him, in the shape of a -raven, into an iron cage, there to remain till one of his own -race, a kingly son of his blood, should release -him:”—a condition from Odin probably implying an -eternal punishment,—as that divinity, who does not appear -to have been as omniscient as he ought, never imagined any member -of his house would have been found silly enough to fulfil -it. “Now then,” continued the magician, -“I have consulted the eternal powers, and find that thou, -Frotho of Denmark, art the king destined to this wondrous deed, -and its following union with the immortals.” Frotho -gave his assent to all and any thing proposed; and the sorcerer -immediately began his operations; he raised his ebon wand above -his head, with many magical flourishes—turned himself -rapidly round—then more slowly, pausing at each of the -cardinal points, and calling north, south, east, and west, upon -the tremendous name of Lok. At that sound, so terrible even -to the ears of spirits, the thunder began to rumble and the fires -of Niftheim flash through the gloomy cavern; something like music -was heard, and, though the concert was hardly better than those -performed by king Frotho’s own band during his drinking -orgies, yet as the voices (and they were many) solely employed -their powers in singing his praises, and the approaching -deliverance of the god by his means, his majesty was pleased to -think nothing in heaven could be half so fine. Presently -the earth shook, and the sides of the <a name="page188"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 188</span>cavern rocked; Biorno pointed to the -bottom of the cave,—and Frotho beheld it, after a few -violent convulsions, suddenly open, and disclose to his view an -enormous raven, in a gigantic iron cage. -“Behold,” said the magician to him, “the prison -of the immortal prince of fire!—in that shape he must -remain a hundred thousand years, unless a kingly hand of the line -of Odin shall restore him (by breaking the bars of his iron cage) -to power and to liberty. Monarch of Denmark! go,—and -success attend thee.” Frotho obeyed immediately; he -made a desperate attack upon the iron cage, but failed in his -intention of rending away its bars; he made many earnest efforts, -but all in vain,—the bars remained unbroken. The Dane -paused in vexation—he was frightened and -mortified—and, by the howls and groans which resounded on -all sides of the cavern, it was evident the anxious spirits of -Niftheim sympathised in his distress: Biorno too, afflicted -beyond measure at the ill success of the enterprise, threw -himself upon the earth, tore off his magical cap, plucked up his -hair by the roots, and howled as loudly as the noisiest of -them. This dismal sight drove Frotho desperate; he -collected all his energies for one mighty pull, rushed upon the -cage, grappled with the bars, and, in an instant, threw them at -the sorcerer’s feet, who sprung up like an elk to receive -them. Frotho stood majestically silent, while an uproar, -such as no human ear has ever heard since, began its diversions -in the cavern; a thick black mist quickly filled its whole space, -so that Frotho could but indistinctly distinguish the figures who -made up the ball; millions of shadows were flitting about, and -millions of voices were laughing, singing, shouting, groaning, -and <a name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -189</span>cursing. Midgard raised his glittering snaky head -above the darkness and the shadows, and greeted the monarch with -a cordial and complimentary hiss; wolf Fenris tried hard for a -good-natured howl; and the grim Hela, their sister, the queen of -death, tortured her ghastly face into a smile, as she capered -nimbly backwards and forwards in the festival, animated by the -thought of the many meals Frotho would furnish for her famished -maw. But, at length, the immortals grew weary of their own -noises—the infernal jollification came to an end—the -mist cleared off—the fires went out—the uproar died -away,—and Frotho’s courage returned to its -half-bewildered master, who took heart once again to look about -him. He was alone (to his great joy) with Biorno, except -that, in place of the raven and his cage, there sat, reposing -upon a light cloud, his beautiful brow diademed with his native -element, the triumphant prince of fire, in all the pride of -beauty and victory. “Frotho, son of Olave,” -said the sweet voice of the spirit; “bravest among the -brave, and wisest of the sons of Odin,—what is thy will -with me? Tax my gratitude, preserver; ask, and obtain thy -wishes.” Frotho waited for no further encouragement, -but directly stated his wishes to reign alone in Denmark, and -sweep off all the collaterals of his house, who were such bars to -his glory. “Thy brother’s life I give -thee,” said the spirit; “destroy him when thou wilt, -but be cautious to keep it secret: his elder son shall in vain -endeavour to oppose thee—I will baffle his claim, and -proclaim thee sole monarch in Denmark; but touch not the life of -Haldane; he has offended Lok, and the god demands the victim, -whom he will receive from no mortal <a name="page190"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 190</span>hand: for Harold the younger, do -with him as thou wilt, but, if thou spare his life, he shall have -no power to harm thee; -go—reign—prosper;—nothing shall do thee wrong -till thyself shall fulfil a decree which is gone forth respecting -thee; thou shall prosper till thy hand shall unite thy own blood -to that of thy deadliest foe: beware of this, and -triumph.” “Prince of the powers of -Niftheim,” said Frotho, “surely Harold, my brother, -is my deadliest foe, and he has no daughter to whom I can give my -son; but I will be mindful of thy words, and remember thy -warning.” The spirit then desired him, should any -event disturb his tranquillity, to come to the cavern and strike -thrice upon the side where stood the iron cage: “Biorno -shall meet thee,” continued he, “and yield thee, in -my name, such help as thou mayest require;” then, slowly -and silently encircling himself in the clouds which surrounded -him, he gradually disappeared from the sight of Frotho, leaving -the cavern illuminated only by the light of the iron lamp which -hung from its centre. Biorno, too, had vanished, leaving -him alone with Eric Swen, who, now easily awakened from his -trance, prepared to follow his master home, who simply informed -his confidant that he had consulted the magician, who had advised -the murder of Harold, and promised him success in its -performance. This was readily undertaken by the profligate -Eric, who, watching, with a lynx-like assiduity, his opportunity, -plunged his sword in the heart of the unhappy Harold with such -right good will and judgment, that the prince died before he knew -he was wounded: nor was Frotho behind his confederate in the good -management of a difficult affair, and skill in getting out of a -<a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 191</span>dilemma; -and this was especially proved, when the body of Eric Swen, -transfixed by a well-aimed javelin, was found stark and stiff by -the side of king Harold, and Frotho ordered every body to believe -that these enemies had fallen in single combat with each -other.</p> -<p>There was one Dane in the court of king Frotho who took the -liberty of believing contrarily to the royal orders; this was the -brave Haquin, the brother-in-law of the two kings, and their -favourite general and minister; he knew Frotho, and he suspected -foul play. He secured the persons of his murdered -master’s two sons, and, giving out that Haldane should -challenge his father’s crown against Frotho, in an assembly -of the states, retired from the court to his own towers, till the -nobles should be pleased to appoint a day for hearing the claim -of his ward. In the mean time, Haldane himself had not been -idle; he employed a good number of his vacant hours in making -tender love to his beautiful cousin, the young Ildegarda, and -laying at her feet the crown which he <i>was</i> to have, and -which Ildegarda accepted, as a thing of course; for she already -considered herself the queen of Denmark. Haldane was -tenderly beloved, and they each looked forward to the day on -which he was to claim his father’s crown from the ambitious -Frotho, as that which was to seal their love and their -happiness.</p> -<p>That day at length arrived; the states, the nobles, the -warriors, and a great part of the troops, were assembled in an -open plain, where Frotho, on his throne, awaited the arrival of -his kinsman. His majesty had arrayed himself with peculiar -splendour for this solemn occasion; his long hair, now slightly -tinged with grey, floated down his <a name="page192"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 192</span>back, while all his face was clean -shaven, except his upper lip, which exhibited a most magnanimous -moustache; his breast, arms, and legs were painted in the -brightest blue, and the most fashionable pattern in Denmark; a -short petticoat of lynx skin, fastened round his waist by the -paws of the animal, descended to his knees; and from his -shoulders to his heels, secured round his neck by claws of gold, -fell the robe of royal magnificence, the mantle made of the skins -of many ermines; his feet were defended by shoes of the sable of -the black fox; his neck was ornamented by a chain of gold, and -the regal circle of the same precious metal shone through his -locks around his temples; on his left arm was a target of -leather, studded with brass nails of unusual brightness and -immense value; in his right hand he held the sceptre; he sat upon -a throne covered with the hides of wolves, and over his head -floated, in proud sublimity, the standard of Denmark, the -raven.</p> -<p>People may talk as long as they please about innate dignity -and the majesty of mind, but the majesty of fine clothes has a -much greater influence upon popular opinion,—else wherefore -that elderly proverb which sayeth that “fine feathers make -fine birds?” Every body knows that king Herod’s -silver petticoat made the stupid mob of Judea mistake him for a -god; and on this day, so important to Haldane, Frotho’s -amazing magnificence made <i>his</i> people mistake him for a -hero. So strong ran the tide of popular opinion, that when -Haldane, simply habited, mounted on his snow-white steed, and -only attended by Haquin and a few of his father’s friends, -rode up the area, they scarcely deigned (though he was rich in -all <a name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 193</span>the -pride of youth and graceful beauty) to consider him worth looking -at; all eyes were turned to Frotho’s painted waistcoat and -superb ermine cloak; and Haldane also beheld, with extreme -disgust, that all his own friends, and the warriors favourable to -his claims, who had fought by his side under his father’s -banner, had been carefully excluded from the council, which he -beheld supplied by the creatures of his uncle; he saw that his -cause was lost before he could say a word: he was not daunted -nevertheless; he demanded his right from Frotho, who, refusing to -admit his claim, was challenged by the youth to decide the -quarrel on the spot. “The states and the troops are -present,” said the prince; “let them be witnesses of -this combat, which thy ungenerous ambition must render mortal: if -thou desirest a double crown, shew that thou knowest how to -defend it; descend from thy throne, meet me fairly, and let -Denmark be the reward of the conqueror.” Slowly, very -slowly, king Frotho rose from his throne, for he saw that -something was expected of him: although not precisely a coward, -he had no mind to encounter his nephew, whose feats of arms he -well knew: and earnestly and anxiously he put up a prayer to -Surter to remember his promise, and baffle his kinsman in this -trying emergency. Surter was not deaf; for scarcely had the -monarch put forth one leg for the purpose of descending from his -throne, ere a wonder attracted the attention of the whole -assembly; the sound of rushing wings was heard from a distance, -and slowly, sailing steadily through the clear air towards his -point, appeared a gigantic raven: black as the shining locks of -Odin was the magnificent and stately bird, who, tranquilly -passing <a name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -194</span>over the multitude, suspended himself in air over the -head of Frotho, and, hovering steadily above him, clapped his -enormous pinions in triumph. Haldane suspected a -trick—Haquin was startled—but the multitude beheld a -miracle, and the will of Odin clearly expressed by his own -particular messenger: the bird hovered in the air a few moments, -to witness the general acknowledgment of Frotho, then, amidst the -deafening shouts of the people, ascended slowly upwards, cleaved -through the clouds, and vanished.</p> -<p>Haldane stood apart, during the scene, in proud contempt of -the ingratitude of his people; and the multitude were making too -terrific an uproar to allow his few friends one word in his -favour. Frotho, pleased by the timely aid of Surter, was -grateful for the first time in his life; and, remembering the -commands of the spirit, abstained from taking what he yet -scarcely knew how to spare, the hated life of Haldane. -Assuming an air of paternal interest and kindness, he bade the -young prince retire from his presence and kingdom, without fear -of molestation. “Son of my brother,” said he, -“seek another kingdom for thy rule, this the gods have -given to Frotho; retire peaceably, and take with thee what part -of my treasure thou wilt.” “The crown, -then,” boldly replied the prince; “for what is there, -traitor! in thy power to bestow, that is not already mine by -right? No! mean-souled coward! I scorn thy courtesy, -and I defy thy anger.” But this gallant resistance -availed nothing in a lost cause; his own party counselled him, -for the present, to get out of the reach of Frotho’s -javelin; and, too wise to disdain advice alike given by friends -and enemies, he obeyed their wishes, and, after taking <a -name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 195</span>a tender -leave of his betrothed Ildegarda, and promising to claim her as a -king, withdrew to Sweden to solicit aid from its warlike monarch -in defence of his title,—aid which he did not receive; for -king Frotho soon after received notice that he had been murdered -on that inhospitable coast soon after his landing, and, as it -could never be ascertained by whom, Frotho silently congratulated -himself upon the sure and ready vengeance of his ally and -divinity, Surter. Haquin, alarmed by this circumstance, and -more than ever suspecting the honesty of king Frotho, withdrew -from court with the young Harold, now the sole surviving son of -his murdered master, and, proclaiming him lawful king of Denmark, -set up his standard in the heart of the country. Many -powerful nobles, disgusted by the cruel brutality of his uncle, -immediately joined him; and Frotho, frightened by danger into -valour, and relying upon the promises of Surter, put himself at -the head of his troops, and prepared for a civil war.</p> -<p>Many skirmishes took place between the hostile powers, though -nothing very decisive occurred; but the troops of Frotho had -generally the advantage, and always when the king commanded in -person. Joy of this discovery nearly upset his majesty; he -began to think himself a great general as well as a gallant -warrior: he got exceedingly drunk with some of his old cronies -who had made the discovery, and, during the deep sleep which -followed this little extravagance, Haquin attacked his camp, beat -his generals, carried off his son Sevald a prisoner, and nearly -seized upon his sacred majesty himself, who knew nothing at all -of the matter. Poor Sevald was marched off for the camp of -the enemy, in a transport of sorrow and despair.</p> -<p><a name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -196</span>“Be not offended, prince,” said the good -Haquin to him when he was brought before him in his -tent,—“be not offended that the chance of war has -placed thy person in my custody for a season; it is no dishonour -to be the prisoner of Haquin. Our war is with thy father, -not with thee; and should Harold succeed, even to the slaying of -his uncle, he will never wrong thee, but yield thee thy just -right, a second throne in Denmark: be not disturbed therefore at -the slight accident of this war.” This was kindly -meant, but it entirely failed in its purpose, and Sevald would -have still continued to grieve if he had not discovered that fair -princesses are better comforters than old soldiers. He -learned that his lovely cousin Ildegarda was in the camp of her -father, and he concluded that things were not quite so bad as -they might have been. Sevald admired his fair kinswoman -extremely, and, as Haldane’s death had set her free, he -worked out the prettiest little romantic scheme possible for -putting an end to the horrors of civil war and restoring peace to -Denmark: he determined to entreat his father to give him -Ildegarda for his bride, to adopt Harold as his partner, and thus -to reconcile all parties to his ascendancy; but, unhappily for -poor Sevald’s delightful scheme, all the persons concerned -in it were, though for different reasons, materially against -it. Ildegarda, true to the memory of Haldane, would listen -to no second love,—Haquin, faithful to the cause he had -adopted, would rather have consigned his daughter to the grave -than to the arms of a son of Frotho,—and the Danish monarch -would entirely have lost the little wit he possessed, at the bare -possibility of such a destructive union as that of his own blood -with <a name="page197"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -197</span>that of his deadliest foe, for such now had the father -of Ildegarda become to him. When he did hear it, he grew -absolutely wild with terror and rage; he imprecated the most -deadly curses upon his son, should he venture to espouse his -cousin; and flew off like a madman to the cave of Biorno in the -forest, to consult him in this most desperate emergency. He -found the sorcerer at home, and willing to assist him, which he -civilly did by the best advice in his power; he desired him to -return to his camp and attack the troops of Haquin, promising to -commit that leader, his daughter, and prince Sevald, safely into -his custody; at the same time hinting that, as Surter had done as -much for his friend as could decently be expected, he need not -call upon him for further assistance, which, unless from his own -imprudence, he would not need, and Lok had prohibited them from -supplying. Frotho thanked him for past favours and present -services, and, promising to demand nothing more for the future, -they parted good friends, though not to meet again in this world -at least, whatever might happen in the other. Frotho had no -sooner reached his camp, than he hastened to profit by his -friend’s advice, and instantly experienced its salutary -effects; he defeated his antagonists in a pitched battle, -recovered his son Sevald, and, to his infinite joy, possessed -himself of the persons of Haquin and his daughter, though Harold -escaped in the battle, and hid himself securely from the pursuit -of his enemy. Had Frotho followed the suggestions of his -own cruel heart, he would have decided Haquin’s destiny at -once by taking off his head; but, fearful of his nobles, who held -the chief in high esteem, and having likewise no hope of -discovering <a name="page198"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -198</span>Harold, except through his friend, he resolved to spare -his existence, but to keep him in close imprisonment with his -daughter, whose influence over Sevald he still dreaded, and whom, -as the daughter of his sister, he dared not injure farther. -The poor prince wept bitterly over his ruined hopes, and Frotho -rejoiced at the delightful consummation of his: he enjoyed -himself in his own way, killing and drinking by -turns,—till, in a fit of madness and extravagance, he -impiously declared that he had a Valhalla of his own, which he -would not change for Odin’s, upon any terms that divinity -could offer. Every thing was happiness in the palace, and -Frotho was the most mischievous and merry of kings.</p> -<h3>PART II.<br /> -THE ISLE OF THE MAELSTROM.</h3> -<blockquote><p>What have we here? a Man or a Fish?—Legged -like a Man, and his fins like arms. <span -class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Every</span> sweet hath its -sour,” saith a very respectable old ballad,—and truly -there is wisdom in the saying. King Frotho’s -sanctity, as a crowned prince of the holy race of Odin, became at -this period, for the first time, somewhat of an inconvenience to -him. In the midst of his festivities, howls and cries -penetrated to his palace, and reached his ears, though surrounded -by buzzing flatterers, and rendered dizzy by strong -potations. His people of Norway were unhappy, and they -called upon their common father to relieve their <a -name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -199</span>misery. A pest had arisen among them which no one -could conquer, for no one knew how to attack: the frightful -whirlpool of the Maelstrom had a guest, and the desolate island -of Moskoe an inhabitant; it was neither man, beast, bird, nor -fish, that had taken up his residence in this part of his Danish -majesty’s dominions, but a most extraordinary compound -monster, possessing all the faculties of each of these several -creations. As he had his little island entirely to himself, -the want of society suggested to him an expedient by way of -amusement, and also of remedying this evil—he employed his -leisure in making descents upon the Norwegian coast, and carrying -off the grown inhabitants, four or five at a time, and the little -children by dozens, whom he devoured with as little remorse as he -would young rabbits or dried herrings. The people were -terrified, and the nobles began to bestir themselves; they sent -out armed men in well-built boats, headed by an able leader, and -desired them to bring in the monster prisoner; but the lord of -the Maelstrom, so far from being brought to consent to this -arrangement, exactly reversed the orders of the Norwegian -ministry, for he sunk all their boats, and carried their crews -prisoners to his island. Frotho heard this pitiful tale -with much indifference, till they besought him to go in person -against their enemy, well knowing that no magic or infernal power -could succeed against the race of Odin;—then he sprung up -in alarm, and declining, in his own person, all pretensions to -superior sanctity, sent one of his best generals with a band of -his own chosen troops, in two gallant vessels, to seize or -destroy the monster. All Norway assembled on the coast to -witness their successes; they saw <a name="page200"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 200</span>the ships sail gallantly on, and, on -the opposite coast, the giant monster rush into the waves to meet -them. With a strength against which they could not contend, -he seized the luckless vessels, drew them coolly and steadily on -to the frightful gulf of the Maelstrom, and then, swimming back -to his island, left the noble ships to be sucked into the -frightful bosom of the gulf.—The waves swept over them, and -the tale of their deeds was told.</p> -<p>Frotho was frightened into sobriety when this news reached -him; Denmark became as clamorous as Norway in the matter, and he -was compelled to promise that he would exert his sanctity, and go -in person to the attack of the monster: but he delayed as long as -he possibly could, and, under pretence of making preparations, -gave the fiend of the Maelstrom time to eat half the children in -Norway. At length “delays became dangerous” -even to Frotho himself; he was obliged to depart, and, well -armed, well guarded, and well attended by a resolute band of the -bravest of his nobles and chiefs, set sail, on a fine sunny day, -for the desolate isle of the Maelstrom. His magnanimous -majesty could not, however, help shivering at the first glance of -the island; but he took courage, on remarking that the beast did -not come out to meet him, nor advance to the attack as in the -former instance; so he landed in good spirits on the island, -promising himself immortal glory in his conquest. A -sufficient band was left in charge of the vessels, and Frotho, -with his chiefs, went boldly forward into the island.</p> -<p>In the first few miles there was nothing to astonish them; -rugged rocks, a roaring sea, and desolate naked heaths, were all -that greeted the travellers: they had expected nothing else, for -<a name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 201</span>the -Moskoe was well known to most of the party, and had never been -suspected of sheltering a paradise in its bosom. Such, -however, to their boundless astonishment, the heroes now found to -be the case. A beautiful country arose amidst the desolate -isle; and, after the first five miles, hills, dales, fertile -valleys, richly wooded groves, and sparkling rivers, said a -thousand smiling good-morrows to the travellers. The scene -was too charming to terrify, else the total absence of anything -like human inhabitants might have been sufficient to startle king -Frotho, and make him doubt whether all was as it should be in -this particular part of his dominion. There was a total -silence around them, unbroken, save by the sweet warblings of -birds, or now and then the light foot of the flying deer, as, -scared by the clatter of their arms, they fled from them into the -forests. Thus they proceeded till they arrived before the -gates of a majestic palace of black marble, whose open portals -courteously invited them to enter. Frotho paused—so -did his nobles; it was finer than any thing in Denmark; -infinitely larger, grander, bolder, blacker, than the palace of -Sandaal, the royal residence of king Frotho himself,—so -that it was clear no human hands had reared it: but whose hands -had?—a puzzling question, which king Frotho would not take -upon himself to answer.</p> -<p>But the portals stood invitingly wide open, and king Frotho -was waxing weary; so, without any further debate or permission -demanded, they marched into a stately hall, where invisible cooks -had made successful preparation for a magnificent supper; Frotho -looked and longed. There was venison, noble venison of the -flesh of the elk, <a name="page202"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -202</span>roasted wild boar, and a cistern of excellent fish -delicately stewed in whale fat; there was a bowl of hydromel, in -which king Frotho might have been drowned, and another of milk, -that might have served him for a bath:—in short, the -temptation was too great for the tempted; and though king Frotho -well knew the danger incurred, even by a son of Odin, in tasting -enchanted food, yet he could not resist the whale fat and the -hydromel. “The monster certainly expected me,” -said he to his attendants. “He is willing to make his -peace with you,” said they to the king. “It -would be uncivil not to taste his good cheer,” said the -master. “Let us shew that we accept his -submission,” replied the servants. So they all sat -down with one accord to the feast, and ate, and drank, and were -merry.</p> -<p>The bowl of hydromel was empty—Frotho was looking into -it disconsolately with one eye (for the other was asleep), and -growing angry with his nobles, who had assisted him too heartily, -and been over-zealous in obeying his commands to pledge him to -the health of their entertainer. After grumbling and -growling for some time over the huge and now dismal-looking bowl, -his majesty took it into his head to be displeased with the -inattention of his host, who had failed to remark and replenish, -as he ought to have done, the empty bowl of departed -hydromel. “Lord beast of the island,” said his -majesty, at length, having thought till his thirst grew -intolerable; “lord beast of the island, I will permit thee -to be viceroy in Moskoe, but thou must not spare thy hydromel -when thy master deigns to visit thee. For thy good cheer, I -thank thee; thy meat is of the best, and abundant, but, by the -burning wheel on Balder’s breast, <a -name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 203</span>thy drink -was scanty; and I command thee hither to supply me with -more.” A rumbling of thunder and a long terrific howl -was the answer to the speech of the monarch. Frotho -shivered with affright, for he thought he recognised, amid the -uproar, the voices of his old acquaintances the illustrious snake -and wolf, cousins of his sorcerer friend Biorno; and, as he was a -little diffident of their conduct, notwithstanding his services -to Surter, he did not altogether relish the meeting, under -present circumstances; so, ensconcing himself in the centre of -his gallant little band of valiant warriors, he patiently awaited -what was to be the second part of his entertainment. This -was settled in an instant; neither Fenris nor Midgard broke upon -the supper party of the monarch, but a being more horrible than -either, and infinitely more hideous than his or any imagination -had already conceived of the monster of the Maelstrom gulf. -A stern gigantic shape entered the hall, and stood steadily face -to face with king Frotho and his nobles: his features were -frightfully flat, and two sunken fiery eyes shot terrific glances -from a visage almost entirely covered with dark and grisly hair; -long black elf locks hung down upon his shoulders, huge teeth -grinned through his grisly beard, and his fingers and feet were -furnished with claws which were worthy of Nebuchadnezzar himself; -his enormous body was covered with black bear-skins, so disposed -as to serve him for a whole suit; and his huge hand grasped a -monstrous club, which seemed very desirous of a nearer -acquaintance with his majesty of Denmark’s brains. -The monster contemplated the group for a moment in silence; he -suffered them even to draw their swords and advance exactly <a -name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 204</span>one step -towards him, when he suddenly lifted his terrible club, and, -without striking a single blow, laid them all prostrate at his -feet. He then approached king Frotho; the son of Olave -shrunk from the uplifted club, and bellowed out, in terror and -haste, that he was the king of Denmark. “And thy -errand?” said the monster. King Frotho was -silent. “I know it,” observed the spectre; -“and for its presumption, but for one thing which I expect -of thee, would bind thy trembling feet for ever to the spot where -thou standest staring at me. Hark thee! thou fool of -Surter’s making! who hopest to overcome the invincible by -human arms,—hear, and obey what I shall command thee. -I do not hate thee, and would not harm thee, for thou art the -friend of Lok; but my wrath against the kingdoms must be -appeased, and my divinity acknowledged. I demand thy -daughter. A spotless virgin of royal blood must come -voluntarily hither to be sacrificed on this island, and thou must -conduct her: do this, and henceforth I too am thy friend; neglect -it, and my thunders shall shake thy palace of Sandaal, and this -club dash out thy brains and scatter them over thy sovereign -throne.”</p> -<p>King Frotho looked aghast—not at the condition of his -safety, but his utter inability to fulfil it—there was no -cheating such an enemy as this—so he told him the plain -truth, that he had no daughter, and humbly apologised for the -want of one. The monster yelled at him, and again lifted up -his club. Frotho, in agony, besought him to have pity, and -then suddenly recollected that he had a niece who was his -prisoner, and whom he very readily offered to his disposal. -The monster hesitated;—at length, in reply to -Frotho’s earnest <a name="page205"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 205</span>entreaties, he consented to spare -his life, upon condition that, in the space of twenty days, he -should land the princess on the island, and deliver her safely -into his hands, to be sacrificed by his own high priest in his -palace; and promising, should Frotho fail in his engagement, on -the very next day, to shake Sandaal about his ears, and dish up -his carcass as a meal for Midgard. Frotho sealed his -promise with a solemn oath, and the monster dismissed him with a -kick on the throne-honouring part of his person, which sent him -not only through the palace gates, but one mile forward in his -journey to the coast, which long before he had gained, his -panting train overtook him, being driven out by the lord beast, -to wait upon and console their disgraced and afflicted -master.</p> -<p>King Frotho had no intention, rogue as he was, to cozen the -Moskoe monster; on the contrary, he was desirous to obtain his -friendship and forbearance towards his subjects and the little -Norwegian children for whom he had evinced such cannibal -prepossessions. He was not sorry, either, so effectually to -dispose of Ildegarda, whose union with his son he had such good -reason to fear. The difficulty would be to persuade the -princess to go voluntarily to be eaten. He was ingenious -however—naturally fertile in expedients—and he soon -hit upon a method of persuasion which he deemed infallible: he -told the poor princess that the monster demanded her or her -father as prisoners; that he allowed her to choose, and if she -thought proper to decline, he should ship off old Haquin -immediately, to be stewed in whale fat, and served up for supper -with milk sauce, according to the pleasure of the monster, in the -marble palace of <a name="page206"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -206</span>Moskoe: for his own part, in relation to herself, he -pretended he did not clearly understand to what the lord of the -island had destined her, but he hoped nothing so terrible as a -roast or a hash. Ildegarda wept, but came into the scheme -quicker than Frotho had anticipated. Haldane was dead, and -her father’s life in danger; by the sacrifice of her own, -which was now really become indifferent to her, she could at -least preserve the last of these beloved beings, and therefore -she did not hesitate. Making Frotho swear a tremendous oath -(which she knew no Dane dared break), to release her father on -his return from Moskoe, she prepared to accompany the king, and, -in less than twenty days, Frotho and his beautiful victim landed -on the island, and prepared to march to the black palace -alone.</p> -<p>They had not proceeded far on their journey, when their -progress was arrested by the appearance of a singular cavalcade -coming to meet them; this consisted of a magnificently painted -chariot, drawn by four snow-white rein-deer, each of whom, to the -astonishment of Ildegarda, had feet of pure gold: behind it came -the monster-man himself, mounted upon a coal-black steed of -extraordinary size and beauty, who pawed the earth impatiently, -and, snorting and foaming as he reared, threw his magnificent -mane from side to side, as if weary of the slight restraint which -his rider appeared to impose upon him;—the latter had now a -bear-skin cap upon his head, on the top of which sat a monstrous -raven, decorating it by way of crest; and another on his wrist, -with infinite grace and gravity, seemed ready to serve him in -quality of falcon extraordinary. The cavalcade paused on -remarking <a name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -207</span>the strangers; and the grim monster, advancing to -Frotho, sternly demanded, “Comes the maid -willingly?” “She does,” replied Frotho; -“and”—But the monster no longer gave him any -attention: he did not even look at Ildegarda, but, bending his -head down, towards his horse’s ears, gravely and mildly -asked, “Steed of heaven, art thou weary?” -“No,” replied the horse; “but I have to-day -been so long upon the earth, that its gross air is beginning to -affect me—the sod is heavy to my feet, and somewhat checks -my swiftness: let me relieve my legs, I pray thee.” -The strange monster nodded his grisly head in reply, and Frotho -beheld the courser slowly and deliberately draw up his four black -legs, and let down three white ones in their places. The -king began now to guess his company; “It is the wondrous -steed of Odin,” said he in a whisper to Ildegarda; -“the immortal eight-legged Sleipner: but what is he who -rides him?” The princess had no time to answer this -question, even had she been able, for the monster seemed -determined to have all the conversation to himself. He -spoke to the raven on his head: “Hugo,” said he, -“take the reins, guide my rein-deer smoothly, and conduct -the lady to the palace: and you, Mumin,” added he to the -bird on his wrist, “hasten homewards, and see that all be -prepared for the victim.” At these terrible words, -the tears of Ildegarda began to flow, and Frotho prepared himself -to make a speech. The monster heeded neither the one nor -the other, but nodded to Ildegarda to ascend the chariot, which -when she had done, he turned round to Frotho, lifted up his -terrible club, and exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, -“Go!” It was but one <a -name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 208</span>word, but -the tone and the action weighed more than five hundred with -Frotho, who, fearing to hear it repeated, darted from the party, -and set sail for Denmark without once looking behind him.</p> -<p>In the mean time, Ildegarda was conducted by her ill-looking -escort to the marble palace, and left by him in the same hall in -which Frotho had rested on his first arrival: here, too, she -found a supper prepared for her, though in a somewhat different -taste from the former; but the princess had no inclination to -eat—indeed she felt determined not to be fattened before -killing, and threw herself upon the earth in a paroxysm of grief -and despair. Suddenly, soft and sweet music broke upon her -ear, and the beautiful voice of some holy unseen thing thus sung -soothingly to her sorrow:—</p> -<p class="poetry">When the thunder-bolt cleaveth<br /> - The trembling sky—<br /> -When the mad ocean heaveth<br /> - His wild waves on high—<br /> -When the coiling snake waketh<br /> - From the heaving earth curled<br /> -And upreareth and shaketh<br /> - An agonised world—</p> -<p class="poetry">When his coil thrice he foldeth<br /> - Around the night-born,<br /> -Till the gazer beholdeth<br /> - Red blood fill her horn—<br /> -When Valkyries scatter<br /> - The clouds which they tear,<br /> -And their steed hoof’s loud clatter<br /> - Is heard in the air—</p> -<p class="poetry">When on oak tops the trampling<br /> - Of their hoofs echo loud,<br /> -While their snorting and champing<br /> - Is lost in the cloud—<br /> -When wizards are breaking<br /> - The sleep of the dead,<br /> -And the shadows are waking<br /> - From each gory bed—</p> -<p class="poetry"><a name="page209"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -209</span>When the dog of hell howleth,<br /> - As the sheeted dead glide<br /> -Where the queen of death scowleth,<br /> - Grim Fenris beside—<br /> -When Surter assembleth<br /> - The lost round his throne—<br /> -Then the murderer trembleth,<br /> - And the murderer alone.</p> -<p class="poetry">But then, guiltless beauty,<br /> - What hast thou to fear?<br /> -All owe thee their duty,<br /> - All homage thee here:<br /> -The life thou hast given<br /> - The immortals will claim;<br /> -And Rinda in heaven<br /> - Stamps thy star-written name.</p> -<p>The princess listened in breathless astonishment, and, when -the sweet sounds died away, spoke in cheerful tones to the -friendly singer. “Thanks, gentle magician,” -said she aloud; “I submit to the pleasure of Odin, and will -not be ungrateful for thy anxiety; see, I will partake of thy -hospitality, and then retire to rest confident in thy gracious -protection.” Ildegarda then ate something of the -repast, and the moment she had concluded, the dishes and bowls -retired of themselves from the table, without any assistance, -through the doors and windows of the palace. While she was -lost in astonishment at this singular attendance, the doors on -the opposite side of the hall opened of themselves, and she, -supposing it a summons for her attention, immediately passed -through them, and heard them close behind her. She -traversed several stately rooms, till at length she stood in one -more magnificent than the rest, and which, from the circumstance -of the doors closing when she entered it, she concluded was -designed by her host for her chamber. Grateful for his -indulgence, she determined <a name="page210"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 210</span>to accept his courtesy, and threw -herself down upon her couch to sleep: satisfied, she reviewed the -events of the day, and found she had little reason to -complain. “I could even be happy,” said -Ildegarda, “if I were assured of the safety of my -father.” The wish was instantly gratified; a large -curtain on the opposite side was suddenly withdrawn, and, -represented on a magic mirror, the princess beheld her father in -his own palace, conversing earnestly with his attendants. -The vision lasted but a few moments—the curtain fell again -before the mirror, and Ildegarda, in a transport of gratitude, -thanked aloud the courteous monster, who thus sought, as he had -promised, to offer her the homage most pleasing to her -feelings.</p> -<p>Ildegarda now tried to compose her spirits to sleep,—the -pale moon had risen over the island, and was pouring a flood of -calm cold light into each apartment of the -palace,—suddenly, her beams were eclipsed by a light so -glorious that the senses of the princess ached as she -contemplated the wonder; she looked up to discover the cause, but -mortality drooped under its excess of glory, and she bent -downwards towards the earth; a soft voice called upon her name, -but the princess could not reply; then the beautiful being, who -was resting upon the light, beheld the embarrassment of her -beloved, and, dismissing part of the effulgence by which she was -surrounded, stood visible to the mortal sight, and Ildegarda -beheld her beloved goddess, the guardian of her youth, the divine -object of her innocent worship, the radiant Rinda, the daughter -of the sun, the beloved of Odin and Freya.</p> -<p>Ildegarda bent her brow still lower to the <a -name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span>earth, and -kissed the fringe of the mantle of her goddess; then the most -lovely of those lovely beings, who float on their ether thrones -round the domes of Valasciolf, spoke tenderly to the fairest of -her worshippers. “Thou hast done well and -wisely,” said the daughter of heaven to the child of earth, -“in thus offering thy life for thy father and thy country, -and thou hast not disappointed my hope; I carried up the perfume -of the holy deed to the foot of the throne of Odin; pleased, he -took it from my hand, clothed it in light, and placing it on a -branch of Hydrasil, the tree of heaven, bade it blow and expand -into an immortal flower, to commemorate thy virtue, and remind -him of thy deserving. Child of my love—hope -all—fear nothing—endure with patience—and thy -reward shall be most glorious.” The goddess then -recalled around her the extended beams of light, and, -concentrating their brightness round her person, again became -insupportably effulgent to human vision; in the next instant she -was gone, and the glory she had left died away when unfed by her -presence.</p> -<p>How sweet was the sleep of Ildegarda that night, and how -blessed was her awakening on the morrow! Morning, the gay -bride of Balder, beheld her descend joyfully to the hall, after -adorning her lovely person with an elegant dress, selected from -many, which the unseen hands of her watchful attendants had -placed in her apartment for that purpose. Arrived in the -hall, she expressed a wish to breakfast; and instantly the -courteous dishes glided in from doors and windows to the table, -attended by a grave-looking bowl of milk, which steadily sailed -on till it placed itself in the centre, where it remained till <a -name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 212</span>the -princess, by rising from table, dismissed its services for the -present. She then roamed through the vast gardens of this -beautiful place, and talked to the birds and the deer, fondly -hoping and expecting that they were enchanted princes and -princesses, and, like the black horse whom she beheld on her -arrival, endowed with the faculty of speech; but, after much -conversation on her own part, she was compelled to resign this -pleasing illusion, and believe that they were merely real birds -and real deer, who could only sing and leap. She then -returned to the palace, wandered over its spacious apartments, -and amused herself by counting the passages and doors. -Still the day went off heavily, even with the aid of these -time-killing pastimes; and when the hour of supper arrived, the -princess welcomed it as sincerely as if hunger had been the -instigator of the pleasure her countenance expressed; she seated -herself at the table, and was earnestly and anxiously employed in -coaxing the birds to partake of it,—when a loud clap of -thunder shook the palace to its foundation, and terrified all -appetite from the poor princess. She had hardly time to -think of its cause, ere it became apparent, for the monster-man -himself entered the hall, and clad in his customary dress, stood -still in the middle of the apartment. Although his -appearance was as usual, yet his manner was entirely different, -for his step was slow and irresolute, and his voice mild and -timid; he scarcely ventured to look up as he asked, in a humble -and supplicating manner, if the princess would permit him to pay -his duty while she supped. Ildegarda, somewhat re-assured -by his gentleness, requested him to use his pleasure in a place -<a name="page213"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 213</span>where -unquestionably all things were at his disposal. “Not -so, gracious lady,” replied the courteous monster; “I -will not stay in your presence, but with your express permission: -my power I cede to your beauty and virtue, and am content myself -to be the first subject of so lovely a sovereign.” -This gallant speech was made with so much humility and respect, -that Ildegarda was not alarmed by its tenderness; and the -monster, to shew (after she had granted permission) how highly he -valued this trifling favour, and how little he was disposed to -encroachment, declined the seat which, after a struggle, she -offered him, and seated himself upon the ground, at a -considerable distance from her. Touched by this humble -homage and generous delicacy of a being so powerful, and at whose -mercy she so entirely was, the princess so far conquered her -abhorrence, as to present him with food and drink; the former he -declined, but he took the again-summoned bowl of milk from her -snowy hand, and, with a gesture of respectful gratitude, tasted -the balmy liquor, as if to indulge her wish. At length, -after a long silence, he asked her if she could be happy in the -island? “I hope so,” replied the princess; “But -will you tell me, sir sorcerer, what has thus singularly changed -my destiny? I came hither to die—yet I -live,—and anxiety is even manifested by my enemy for my -happiness. How am I to understand these -contradictions?” “Call me not your enemy, -beautiful Ildegarda,” replied the monster, “for that -I have not been; destiny had decreed you to be a victim, though -not of death; I am but its instrument to work out its intentions; -the sacrifice of your liberty only was demanded, and your -generous resignation of life <a name="page214"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 214</span>itself has impelled me to love your -worth, and lighten, as far as my power will, the burthen of your -sorrows. I cannot release you from this rock, but I can -surround you with pleasures, and render your bondage -supportable.” Ildegarda was pleased with this -explanation, and, after thanking her host for his generous -intentions, withdrew to her chamber, though not till she had -accorded to Brandomann (for that he had told her was his name) -permission to attend her on the next evening to supper: this was -an honour she would gladly have declined,—but she felt it -would be ungracious, and that he had some right to calculate upon -her complaisance. The next night came, and Brandomann was -punctual—conducting himself in the same timid -manner—though, observing the dislike of Ildegarda towards -him, he put an end to the interview earlier than usual, and -quitted her presence in sorrow. The princess was sad that -she had inflicted pain, yet she could not but hope that the -hideous being would not again seek her society. In this she -was disappointed;—he came at night, as before, and seated -himself silent and sorrowfully at her feet; he spoke not, and -scarcely ventured to look at her, till she, affected by his -grief, offered him the bowl and bade him drink; he took it with a -smile—the poor monster intended it so, but the frightful -grin which distorted his features was so odious, that Ildegarda -sickened with affright, and heartily repented her -condescension. Brandomann understood her disgust. -“Ildegarda,” he said mournfully, “I too well -know how justly I must be an object of abhorrence to the eye of -beauty; I will not give you pain therefore—though it will -destroy the only happiness I have <a name="page215"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 215</span>ever enjoyed, I will intrude no more -into your presence,—I will not destroy the little felicity -which fate has left you.” He arose to retire; but the -generosity of the princess overcame her reluctance,—she was -not proof against his noble self-denial,—and, rising -hastily from her seat, she requested, entreated,—nay, -commanded him to continue his visits. Brandomann was but -too happy to obey; and he retired comforted from her -presence. The next night Brandomann was not so -silent—he exerted himself to amuse and interest his lovely -prisoner; and he succeeded admirably when he spoke of the present -state of Denmark—the disorders of the king—the -disappearance of both the princes, sons of Harold—and the -courage and integrity of her noble father; upon this theme he -discoursed till tears of pleasure filled the eyes of the -princess, whom he repeatedly assured of Haquin’s -safety. “Should you wish a confirmation of the -intelligence which I give you,” continued Brandomann, -“on the first day of every month examine the magic mirror -in your chamber; it will satisfy your curiosity, by representing -your father and his employments; but only at that time must you -consult it.” Still Brandomann continued to talk, and -Ildegarda to listen, till she forgot to wish for the hour of -separation, and even suffered the monster to retire first; the -next day she grew weary ere evening, and waited with something -like impatience for the supper hour: it came at last, and -Brandomann with it, who perceived, by the reception she gave him, -that he was no longer so unwelcome a guest as formerly. -Animated by this belief, he again exerted all his powers to -interest the princess; he related to her <a -name="page216"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 216</span>the early -history of her country, and the exploits of the greatest heroes, -her ancestors of the race of Odin; he then went on to discourse -of the Scaldres, their singular union, their mystic occupations, -and their magnificent poems; he himself, he remarked to her, was -of this privileged order, and, without wearying her attention, -recited some of his own composition and those of his noble -brethren. Ildegarda was charmed by his discourses. -Balder had touched his lips with eloquence, and Brage had -rendered his voice melodious, and many words flowed over his -lips, sweet, yet powerful, as a torrent of silvery waters. -The princess was pleased while she only listened,—when she -looked, the spell was broken.</p> -<h3>PART III.<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE GUESTS.</span></h3> -<blockquote><p>Misery acquaints a man with strange -bedfellows.</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span -class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>—<i>Tempest</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">Day</span> after day thus glided on -without much variation, though not so heavily as formerly. -One evening Brandomann said to her, “Your mornings must -still be wearisome to you; perhaps it might give you pleasure to -travel around this little island; when such shall be your wish, -summon aloud your carriage, with the snow-white deer, (that which -brought you hither,) and it will instantly attend your -command.” The princess was impatient, till the next -morning gave her an opportunity of indulging this new -pleasure;—for <a name="page217"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 217</span>when our pleasures are few, every -little variation is hailed as a new one;—she sprung lightly -from her couch, and, with beaming eyes and a throbbing heart, -ascended her chariot, which, at her wish, waited at the gates of -the marble palace. For some hours she was delighted to be -borne swiftly by the coursers of light through flowery vales and -blooming gardens; but at length grew weary of the silence and -monotony which every where surrounded her, and the inability to -utter or reply to an observation. The deer looked at her -with their intelligent eyes, and seemed to understand her -feelings. “Yes, turn then, my lovely deer,” she -replied in answer to their silent interrogatory; “bear me -again to my home.” She entered the marble hall. -It was many days since she no longer startled at the clap of -thunder which announced the approach of Brandomann, and now she -heard it with pleasure. “You have been amused -to-day,” said he to her as he entered. “Not -much,” she replied; “although I blush to say so; I -would be happy if I could, yet I cannot help feeling that -solitude is melancholy.” “Alas! yes,” -replied the lord of the Maelstrom; “but there are -companions to whom it is preferable. If I did not fear -offending by my presumption.”—He was eagerly -interrupted by Ildegarda, who accepted the embryo offer with -delight; and her manner had such an effect upon the monster, that -again the princess repented her condescension. He made -ample amends for his hideous joy, however, on the following day, -when attending Ildegarda on her journey, by his timid and gentle -modesty. Mounted on his coal-black steed, he respectfully -followed her brilliant chariot, and never, except in answer to -her summons, <a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -218</span>ventured to approach her side. The princess was -naturally generous, and this conduct secured her -confidence. She now encouraged him to converse, called him -frequently to her side, and took pleasure in calling forth and -listening to his observations. On their return to the -palace, a huge raven flew down from a tree upon the shoulder of -Brandomann, and whispered something in his ear; the latter -immediately turned to Ildegarda: “Princess,” he said, -“the only friends who ever enliven this solitude by -visiting me, are now on the island; will you permit them to -attend you at supper?” Ildegarda consented joyfully: -the thought of once more seeing human beings filled her spirit -with rapture; and, hastening to her apartment, she spent the -intervening time in dressing her lovely person to the utmost -advantage, not only for her own sake, but also to do honour to -the taste and generosity of Brandomann, who had been most lavish -in his preparations for her toilet. At length she -descended, and, with a palpitating heart, entered the hall. -At the door she was met by Brandomann himself, who courteously -led her forward to present her to his guests—they rose to -receive her—but imagine the astonishment of -Ildegarda!—No words can do justice to her surprise, as she -surveyed the assembled party: neither knight nor lady, spirit nor -fiend, greeted her entrance,—but on one side stood an -enormous wild boar—on the other a beautiful white -she-goat—in front stood the eight-legged steed of -Odin—and the two ravens, whom she had seen on her landing -on the island, had perched themselves with infinite gravity upon -Brandomann’s club. The princess turned to her friend, -and was about to demand an explanation, <a -name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 219</span>when she -was prevented by the beautiful goat, who, with an air at once -kind and dignified, welcomed her to the island, which she said -was happy under the government of the good Brandomann, the -favourite of Odin, and whom all good spirits loved: the boar made -her his best bow—Sleipner assured her of his -devotion—the ravens were happy in the honour of her -acquaintance—and Ildegarda, after replying to each of these -extraordinary visitors, recovered something of her composure, and -smilingly sat down to supper with her company. She was -about to apologise for the want of proper fare, when she beheld -them supplied with their own particular dishes by the same unseen -attendants who so assiduously waited upon her. Oats and -hay, in a silver manger, were placed before Sleipner—a huge -tray of nuts and acorns sallied in, and stood stationary at the -tusks of the boar—a salad was the supper of the white -goat—and a raw beef-steak was provided for the -accommodation of the ravens. The princess began to be -amused with her situation and company, and listened to their -conversation with considerable interest: Mumin and Hugo, the -raven messengers of Odin, were talking over some of the -divinities of Asgard; and Sleipner mentioned a journey which Thor -the Thunderer intended shortly to take upon his back, to correct -the impious inhabitants of Jutland, who, since the ascension of -the murderer Feggo to his brother’s throne, had totally -neglected his worship. “Is the murdered prince in -Asgard?” demanded Brandomann. “He has a -magnificent palace in Valasciolf,” replied the huge boar, -“where he resides among the other heroes and the divine -family and ministers of Odin, and <a name="page220"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 220</span>with them usually spends his nights -at the banquet in Valhalla; but he is not a favourite warrior -there: if he was no more amiable on earth than he is in heaven, I -am not surprised at his wife’s wishing to get rid of -him. Hamlet is also there, and almost as unpopular as his -father. Can you imagine it possible, he spends all his time -with Forsete at Glitner, and has grown so wise and disputacious, -that he is continually instructing Odin himself; nay, the other -morning, just before the sounding for the combat, he spoke so -learnedly to that blind Horror, whom we dare not name out of -heaven, and who is already sufficiently inclined to mischief, -that Thor, provoked, lifted up his mallet to knock out the shadow -of his brains,—but Balder interfered, and his eloquence and -Lofna’s smile restored peace to heaven.”</p> -<p>“And how go on the happy Scaldres;” demanded -Brandomann; “what is become of the unlucky Hiarn, whose -skill in singing gained him a crown?” “He is -singer-in-chief in Valhalla,” replied Sleipner; “and -indeed his strains well deserve this distinction. But -see,” he continued; “the princess looks to you for an -explanation: take your harp, Brandomann, and let it tell the -story of Hiarn.” “I obey you,” replied -the lord of the Maelstrom; and caught up his harp and -sung—</p> -<p style="text-align: center">THE LEGEND OF HIARN.</p> -<p class="poetry">The heart of the monarch was savage and -wild,<br /> - And his red hand with life-blood was gory;<br /> -He spared not the matron, he spared not the child,<br /> - Proud youth, nor the head that was hoary.</p> -<p class="poetry"><a name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -221</span>Then Hiarn arose—and his melody’s voice,<br -/> - As over the wild harp it swept,<br /> -Brought relief to the land, bade its nobles rejoice,<br /> - For the dark monarch listened—and wept!</p> -<p class="poetry">And his sorrow was holy, for into his heart<br -/> - Those tones tender pity had flung—<br /> -And Fate whisper’d, “Thy soul shall with music -depart”—<br /> - So he died, while the sweet harper sung.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then Hiarn was king—for the fierce nobles -came<br /> - Subdued by his powers alone,<br /> -They crowned his bright brow, proclaimed his great name,<br /> - And lowlily knelt at his throne.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then Hiarn was king, and—</p> -<p>“Alackaday!” said the boar, who did not appear to -have any very great taste for music, and who was beginning -besides to be weary of Brandomann’s dismal ditty; -“alas! for the poor harper; it is a pity, after such a -glorious opening, the close of his history should have been so -dismal.” “What was it?” demanded -Ildegarda; “tell me, I pray you, what was the fate of -Hiarn?” “A prince of the blood,” replied -the courteous boar, “the warrior Fridleff, who did not -understand music, challenged the crown from Hiarn: he was too -good a musician to make any thing but a contemptible soldier, so, -as might have been expected, he sunk under the first blow of -Fridleff. But, grieve not for him, charming princess, he is -well rewarded for his short period of suffering; a throne in -Asgard—a palace dome in Valasciolf—are surely higher -blessings than even reigning in -Denmark”—“Serimnor!” said the white goat, -interrupting the conversation, and pointing with her horns to the -stars, which were now rapidly gemming the heavens; “see, -the lights in the palaces of Asgard are lit—the deities and -heroes are on their way to Valhalla—let us not keep them -waiting, but hasten to supper, lest we should offend the Highest -by our presumption.” Thus saying, she departed, after -<a name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 222</span>a -friendly good-night to the princess, and a promise to spend many -evenings with her in the island. Serimnor, deeply engaged -at that moment in a dispute with Brandomann about the politics of -Jutland, did not remark her departure, but was reminded of it, to -the no small astonishment of Ildegarda, in a very extraordinary -manner; a gigantic pair of hands, the right brandishing an -enormous carving knife, coolly entered the folding doors, and, -seizing the throat of the luckless Serimnor, without any sort of -notice or preparation, cut it from one side to the other, just as -he was pronouncing the names of Harwendil and Feggo, which, from -the suddenness of this manœuvre, burst through the gaping -orifice in his throat, instead of by the usual channel of -communication—the mouth. The terror of Ildegarda, who -had begun to esteem the polite and obliging Serimnor, was greatly -increased by the extraordinary coolness of Brandomann, who stood -looking on as if nothing particular had happened, and only -discontinued his speech when the body of the poor boar was -dragged from the apartment by the murderous pair of hands. -It seemed as if the whole party had been in a conspiracy to -frighten the timid Ildegarda; for, on the disappearance of the -boar, Sleipner started up, and, snorting till fire darted from -his nostrils and eyes, sprung up into the air, and pawing, and -dashing, and foaming, ascended up to the clouds through the roof -of the palace, which parted to give him passage,—while the -two ravens flew screaming out of the window. Brandomann had -disappeared in the bustle, and, as he did not attend her on the -following morning, she waited with much uneasy impatience for an -explanation in the evening: this was given by <a -name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 223</span>the -good-natured boar himself, who had marked her anxiety, and -hurried first to the palace in order to relieve it. He -thanked her for the interest she took in what appeared to be his -suffering; “But grieve not, loveliest of maidens,” -said the gallant beast, “at an event which is to me but the -consummation of my glory: every night thus I die without pain, -and my flesh is served up to the banquet of the gods,—while -my spirit enjoys a blissful sleep, from which it awakes in the -morning to animate the same form in which it was clothed the day -before. The beautiful goat whom you saw, is the immortal -Heidruna, whose milk is the hydromel served up to the table of -Odin. She alone, last night, was punctual to her -engagement, while the rest of the party, enchanted by your -beauty, forgot the hour, and had some difficulty to reach -Valhalla in time to avoid the reproach of Odin.” -Scarcely was this explanation given, ere Heidruna herself -entered, attended by the ravens and Sleipner, who apologised for -their hasty departure the evening before; and a moment after, the -clap of thunder announced the approach of Brandomann. The -whole party now sat contentedly down to supper, infinitely -pleased with themselves and each other; and perhaps it would have -been difficult to find one more happy, or its members bearing -more sincere good will towards each other. The next day was -the first of the month, and the princess hastened to avail -herself of the magic gift of Brandomann. With intense -anxiety she raised the curtain, and her heart throbbed with -delight to behold her father in health and spirits, well armed, -and travelling, attended by a band of gallant warriors, who -appeared to be anxious for his safety. Ildegarda <a -name="page224"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 224</span>looked at -him with rapture, and new feelings of gratitude to Brandomann -gave the evening which followed this happy morning, fresh charms -in her eyes, and made her confinement in the desolate island, -with none but the ugliest of orangutangs for a constant -companion, no longer either gloomy or dreadful.</p> -<p>One morning, while surveying together the beauties of the -island in a sentimental walk, Brandomann asked the princess if -she had now entirely resigned herself to the lot of total -seclusion in the island of the Maelstrom. “I may, and -do sometimes regret the halls of my fathers,” replied the -tender Ildegarda. “But when I reflect from what -miseries my devotion has preserved my beloved country, and still -more beloved father, I feel that I ought not to complain. -Neither am I insensible of what I owe to you; and I acknowledge -that, without any other motive, your generous protection of me -and care of my happiness deserves the sacrifice even of these -regrets: I am willing to make it, and should even rejoice in an -opportunity that would allow me to convince you of my -sincerity.” “You have, then, (and permit me to -say I hope it,) banished from your heart the remembrance of -Haldane?” said the monster. “Alas! no,” -replied Ildegarda, bursting into tears of tenderness at his -recollection; “that can I never do; and it is the certainty -of his loss that enables me so well to support this destiny: but -do not let this disturb you—the recollection of Haldane -will never interrupt my gratitude to you.” “And -you could resolve upon fresh sacrifices if they were demanded of -you?” inquired Brandomann. “I could,” -replied the princess. Brandomann paused—he looked <a -name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 225</span>sadly and -earnestly, at Ildegarda, and then, as with a violent effort, -flung himself at her feet, and tremblingly demanded, -“Princess, will you become my wife?” A shriek -of horror, and a look of unmeasured abhorrence, was the only -reply of the hapless Ildegarda; and too plainly these tokens -spoke to the unfortunate Brandomann. He calmed his -agitation—arose from her feet, and spoke kindly and -steadily to tranquillise her. “Do not hate me, -beautiful sovereign of my destiny,” said he, “that -thus I am compelled to add to your inquietudes. Yet be not -alarmed needlessly; I adore you, but no force shall be put upon -your inclinations: forgive me, if, impelled by a power I dare not -disobey, I am sometimes obliged to give you pain by this -question. But fear not—my wishes shall be sacrificed -to yours—I would not receive that hand, dear as it would -be, unless voluntarily presented by yourself.”</p> -<p>The princess took courage at this declaration of her hideous -lover. She knew he was a monster of his word; and she -thought if he would not receive her hand till she presented it, -she should be safe from the infliction of such a husband. -Assuring him, therefore, that she was far from hating him, and -expressing with warmth the sentiments she really felt for her -grim admirer, the poor monster was somewhat comforted, which -Ildegarda was not sorry to remark; for if Brandomann was ugly -when he was gay, he was ten thousand times more so when in -sorrow. They returned to the palace in tolerable spirits, -and in the evening Ildegarda took an opportunity of depositing -her perplexities in the bosom of the respectable white goat, for -whom she began to experience something of filial affection. -Heidruna <a name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -226</span>consoled the princess by her unqualified praises of the -honour and sincerity of Brandomann, and her firm conviction that -Ildegarda would never be molested by his fondness; although -Heidruna thought, and could not help telling her young friend, -that in the world she might have matched herself with many a -greater beast than Brandomann: but, as this was entirely a matter -of opinion, she rather soothed the princess than contradicted -her. The good Serimnor interrupted the -<i>tête-à-tête</i>, and fully seconded the -opinion of Heidruna, both as to the honour and goodness of the -lord monster of Moskoe. “You observe,” said he -to Ildegarda, “that he has been admitted among the -Scaldres, an order which generally requires perfection from its -aspirants; and great must his virtues be, when the unbounded -ugliness of his person could not outweigh them, nor conceal the -richness and beauty of his mind. He is also, as we are, the -descendant of Odin, and peculiarly favoured by the mightiest of -the gods, and his son Thor, the thunderbolt: he enjoys extensive -power, and many prerogatives not granted to the more beautiful -children of nature, to compensate for the imprisonment of such a -spirit in so hideous and detestable a frame. Were it -possible to overcome your natural repugnance, you would have no -reason to regret the change; but should your aversion be -invincible, you will have nothing to fear, since he will continue -to you the tenderest and humblest of lovers, and we shall always -remain your friends.”</p> -<p>The princess thanked the friendly boar for his kind assurance, -and they separated for the night in increased good will towards -each other. In a few days after this conversation, -Brandomann <a name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -227</span>sought the princess in her chamber. “A -storm is gathering above the whirlpool,” said he; -“its effects will be terrific—our friends are -collected to watch its progress—shall we follow them to the -coast? If it will interest you, I will raise my magic tent -upon the top of the highest rock, and, sheltered even from the -slightest drops of rain, you shall see the storm in its terrors, -and the fiends unseen of mortal eyes, who increase its horrors -and sport in its bosom.” Ildegarda accepted the -invitation, and the rein-deer swiftly bore their light and lovely -burthen to the rocks, accompanied by Brandomann, whose -eight-legged steed would far have outstripped the nimble coursers -of the princess, but for the frequent checks of his rider. -Arrived at the point of rock, they beheld the waters raging -around them, (for the island was seated in the midst of the -gulf,) but with less violence than Ildegarda had expected: she -remarked this to her attendant. “The waters are now -at their height,” replied Brandomann; “and for one -quarter of an hour it will be tolerably calm, but the power of -the storm will be tremendous when that short interval shall be -past: many, deceived by the calm, venture out while it lasts, and -encounter certain destruction at its close.” -Ildegarda continued watching for the termination of the delusive -calm, when her meditations were interrupted by the arrival of -Heidruna, Serimnor, and the ravens: they arranged themselves -round the chariot of the princess, and, protected from the storm -by the magic tent of Brandomann, stood watching its progress in -silent anxiety. The deceitful calm, as the lord of the -island had predicted, was of no long duration. In a few -minutes the brightness of Balder <a name="page228"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 228</span>was entirely obscured; the wind -chorus began, and swept low and sullenly over the waters, which -now rose upwards, gently murmuring, as if they were the echoes of -the distant song. “Listen, Ildegarda,” said -Brandomann; “to you it is given to hear the secrets and -wonders of the earth, in recompense for being thus shut out from -its more social intercourse: listen, and you will hear the -unknown song of the winds: hark! how it rises from an -immeasurable distance, and yet you can distinguish their voices, -and the words they utter. Now they come -nearer—hush!”</p> -<p style="text-align: center">THE SONG OF THE WINDS.</p> -<p class="poetry">From the couch of the billows<br /> - The hollow bed<br /> -Where ocean pillows<br /> - His giant head—</p> -<p class="poetry">From secret caves,<br /> - Where ancient Night<br /> -Sleeps secure<br /> - From staring light—<br /> -From the breast</p> -<p class="poetry"> Of the trembling earth,<br /> -Scorning rest,<br /> - We have our birth.<br /> -Up, up, upward, murmuringly,<br /> -Up, up, upward, still go we.</p> -<p class="poetry">From wild Hecla’s burning cells,<br /> -Where the giant mother dwells,<br /> -Who to Lok, in days of yore,<br /> -Sin and death and horror bore—<br /> -From the Geyser’s boiling springs,<br /> -We soar, upborne on rushing wings,<br /> -Singing louder as we go,<br /> -Blow, ye wild winds, louder blow!<br /> -Up from the Dolstein still rise we,<br /> -Where about us rolled the sea,<br /> -<a name="page229"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 229</span>And -beneath, for ever whirled,<br /> -The master spirit of the world—<br /> -From the raging Dofrefeld,<br /> -Where green Niord’s feast is held—<br /> -From the land of eternal snow,<br /> -Blow, ye wild winds, louder blow!</p> -<p class="poetry">We come, we come! the forests wave,<br /> -As above their tops we rave.<br /> -Blow winds, blow! the crashing tree<br /> -Of our might shall the witness be;<br /> -The staggering ship, and the broken mast,<br /> -Heaving, rended, sinking last;<br /> -And the crash of falling towers,<br /> -Speak our presence, and our powers.<br /> -Blow winds, blow! to heaven ascending,<br /> -Clashing, crashing, crushing, rending,<br /> -Wrath on earth and ocean pouring,<br /> -O’er the scared world, raging, roaring.</p> -<p>“The storm is indeed terrific now,” said -Ildegarda; “I can almost see it in the air, as it scatters -the clouds before it: look how the waters rise to meet it, -roaring with the fury and force of the cataract!” -Amid the uproar, she thought she distinguished other noises than -those of the tempest—a sound like the howls and shrieks of -pain: she noticed the circumstance to Brandomann. -“You are right,” he replied; “look yonder, -where a desperate battle is waging, in despite of this scene of -tempest. A bear has swum from this mountain territory of -Hilseggen to prey upon the flocks of Suarven, one of the few -islands in this gulf which is inhabited; a single gallant -shepherd has attacked him, but I fear the bear has the mastery: -see! the shepherd has lost his staff, and the monster grapples -with him closely—he hugs him fiercely!—Is there no -way by which I can save him? What, ho! -shepherd!—what, ho!—loosen yourself from the grasp of -your enemy and fly—stand on the very edge of the rock, and -let him spring against you!—So, <a name="page230"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 230</span>so—the fellow fears me no less -than the bear, yet he obeys—he is crouching—his enemy -runs—plunges—ah! ah!—he has lost his balance -and dashes headlong into the stream—well, run, -shepherd!—He stays not to sing the death-song for his -foe.—Good night, friend bear, you will sup with the fish of -the Maelstrom to-night!” While they looked on, they -beheld the savage animal struggling for his life against the -dreadful current, but in vain; borne onward, despite of his -roarings, he was soon over the terrible pool, and then whirled -rapidly round, till he was sucked down into the bosom of the -dismal gulf, which, sages have written, penetrates the -globe. Ildegarda pitied the poor bear, whose love of mutton -had occasioned him so miserable a fate; but a new wonder now -claimed her attention and diverted her thoughts from his sorrows: -this was another island, slowly arising from the bottom of the -lake, and covered with sea-weeds, becoming stationary at no great -distance from Moskoe. Before Ildegarda could point it out -to her companions, Serimnor advanced hastily towards -Brandomann. “There is mischief abroad, dear -brother,” said he; “this storm is not of -Niord’s raising. Some friend beloved of Odin, and -abhorred of Lok, is certainly in danger; for look who are -sporting in the tempest.” He pointed to the bosom of -the gulf and to the rocky shore of Otterholm. In the centre -of the one, Ildegarda beheld the head of a monstrous serpent -reared above the waves, and surveying with fiery eyes the distant -sea; and on the other a hideous wolf, with his attention fixed in -the same direction, and howling in concert with the storm. -The princess shuddered, and, for the first time in her life, drew -<a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 231</span>nearer -to Brandomann for protection. “You have nothing to -fear, dearest,” said he, “from these monsters whom -you behold; they are indeed your foes and mine, for they are the -children of Lok, and the enemies of Odin; but they have no power -over you, and mine, by the gift of their conqueror, is greater -than their own. He whom you see in the waters is the giant -snake, whose folds of sin encircle the guilty earth, and who now, -from its centre, is bidding defiance to some noble foe of his -evil father. Fenris, the wolf-dog, guard of hell, appears -only when mischief is in the air, to increase, by his cries and -the horror of his form, the fears and the danger of his -victim. I deem some hapless vessel has approached too near -this coast during the calm, and now the storm will drag it to -destruction. But let us watch—Hugo and Mumin, stretch -out your pinions—fly over the waters, and tell me what you -descry.” The messengers of Odin obeyed—they -flew over the bosom of the lake—then out towards the -boundless and ungirt ocean: suddenly they returned. -“A sail! a sail!” said Hugo. “A gallant -ship!” cried Mumin; “the whirl has surely caught her, -she comes on so rapidly.” Soon, very soon, she -neared, and drove onwards, visible to all. Brandomann -grasped his club: “Some bold adventurers,” said he, -“doubtless, who seek to land upon this island in defiance -of the will of Odin; if so, they are lost indeed, for the king of -Valhalla has resigned them to the power of the -infernals.” It was frightful to mark the force with -which the ship drove on. “They make for the island -which has just risen from the lake,” said the -princess. “Death will too surely greet them -there,” replied Brandomann; “for that is no <a -name="page232"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 232</span>land, but -the snare of fiends to beguile; it is the dreadful Kraken, that -monster of the deep, who, when the vessel touches him, will sink, -and draw it with him.”—And the vessel was near the -monster, when a piercing shriek from Ildegarda arrested the -thoughts of Brandomann. “It is my father!” she -cried—“it is my father!—I know his -banner—he seeks me on this island—have mercy, -Odin!—Oh, Brandomann, if thou lovest -me”—“If I love thee!—lo! now I disobey -the will of Odin for thee!—judge, then, how dear thou -art!” He started from her side, sprung upon Sleipner, -darted from the rock, and the next instant Ildegarda beheld his -giant form stemming the torrent with a power equal to its -own. The wolf beheld him and ran howling away, while a -single blow from his mighty club drove the grim serpent beneath -the waves, to howl his disappointment in Niftheim. -Ildegarda heard none of the consoling speeches addressed to her -by her friends; her ear—her eye—her heart, were all -with Brandomann: she shrieked aloud. “He will not -reach it ere it touches the Kraken,” she cried, “and -then all help will be in vain.” “Not so, dear -princess,” replied Serimnor; “he acts with the power -of Odin, and will save your father; and then what will not his -generosity deserve?” “My life—my -love!” distractedly replied the wretched Ildegarda, totally -incapable of accepting any consolation, and only alive to the -danger of her father. “Oh, Odin! save him!” she -cried; “and thou, thou the nameless!—the mighty in -strength—the blind invincible—preserve the faithful -Brandomann!” At this instant the Kraken -sunk—the hoof of Sleipner had touched him—and -Brandomann sternly approached the vessel: a band of warriors, <a -name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 233</span>headed by -her father, prepared to oppose him, and Ildegarda beheld their -bright weapons gleaming above his head. At this sight, -“Harm him not,” she exclaimed; “ye know not -whom ye strike!” But the next instant shewed her the -folly of her fear and the mighty power of her lover. -Heedless of the flashing swords, Sleipner sprung among the -warriors, whose arms were now useless in their deadened hands, -and Brandomann stood upon the deck, sternly reproving their -presumption, and commanding the gallant ship to return home to -Denmark. The vessel obeyed—the warriors knew the -eight-legged steed of Odin, and were silent; but Haquin accused -aloud the murderer of his daughter, for he judged he beheld the -lord of the Maelstrom. “Thy daughter lives,” -replied the terrible Brandomann; “but she is mine: at her -entreaty I have saved thy forfeited life—but approach no -more the island forbidden by Odin to mortal foot, else will I -resign thee to the fate thy presumption will incur, and which, -but for thy daughter’s tears, thou wouldest ere now have -tasted. Hence, Haquin, and learn submission!”</p> -<p>Sleipner plunged into the waters, and the vessel, now removed -beyond the power of the whirlpool, sailed back to Denmark, while -Brandomann returned to Ildegarda, by whom he was received with a -welcome far surpassing his hopes or expectations. He said -nothing, however, of the important service he had just rendered -her; and his delicate conduct, which did not pass unobserved by -the princess, created for him an advocate in her bosom stronger -than his own entreaties, or those of all his friends united, -could have done. She saw how tenderly Brandomann loved her, -but she saw also that he was resolved <a name="page234"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 234</span>not to give her pain; and, to say -the truth, she could not help being pleased by this circumstance; -for gratitude, great as it certainly was, was yet not -sufficiently powerful to make so cruel a sacrifice to his -happiness. By the time he had landed, the storm had passed -from the face of heaven, and all was calm upon the bosom of the -waters as if the fiends of Niftheim had not been raging within it -a few moments before; the party returned to sup in the palace, -and all things went on pleasingly as usual. Days, weeks, -passed away, but Ildegarda, no longer wretched in submitting to -the sentence she had once thought so cruel, took little heed of -time, except to notice the first day of the month, which -presented to her anxious eyes the person and occupations of her -father. Twice, successively, she had seen him in his tent, -surrounded by heroes, amid preparations for war; he was cheerful, -and appeared to be encouraging the spirits of a young man, whom -Ildegarda knew to be prince Harold, and who, with a gentle, -downcast look, was listening to his observations: this was -confirmed to her by the accounts of Brandomann, whose cares to -lighten her anxieties and anticipate her wishes sensibly affected -the generous daughter of Haquin. She took increased delight -in his conversation; and he, from whose presence she was at first -so anxious to fly, was now frequently summoned to relieve -solitude by his cheering conversation. She was herself -surprised at the change; and could she have shut from her bosom -the thought of her early and beautiful love. Brandomann, -even in person, would not have been disgusting. As it was, -he daily grew less odious, and daily grew the princess more -contented <a name="page235"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -235</span>with her lot; the happy society of the marble palace -met nightly, and mirth, and song, and tale, gave wings to the -cheerful hours.</p> -<h3>PART IV.<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RETURN.</span></h3> -<blockquote><p>Wilt thou begone?</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span -class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">One</span> night when the conversation -particularly turned upon the exploits of the ancestors of -Ildegarda, Sleipner, who possessed a natural love of noble -actions, inquired of the boar whether king Uffon was constant in -his attendance upon the nightly festival of the hall of -Odin? “He is so, frequently,” replied Serimnor; -“but he takes more delight in the combat of the -morning—from that he is never absent:—but what an -extraordinary history is his!” continued the boar; -“it is necessary that he should be in Asgard, for its -inhabitants to believe it.” Ildegarda’s -attention was aroused; she had never heard of her ancestor, and -she entreated Brandomann to indulge her curiosity. He took -up his harp immediately—for he appeared to have no -occupation so delightful as to obey her slightest wish—and -thus related to her the legend of Uffon the Merciful:—</p> -<p style="text-align: center">LEGEND OF UFFON.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">I.</p> -<p class="poetry">There was a halo round<br /> -The golden crown which shone on Vermund’s brow,<br /> -<a name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 236</span>The -light of many noble deeds—<br /> -Some deathless flowers<br /> -From heaven’s immortal tree,<br /> -(The abode of changeless destiny,)<br /> -Were wreathed<br /> -Around his conquering sword:<br /> -But years rolled on, and age<br /> -Silvered his golden locks—<br /> -And darkness fell<br /> -Heavily on him,<br /> -Veiling the beauty of his latter day—<br /> -For Lok in hate,<br /> -Or envy, breathed on him a withering curse—<br /> -And he grew blind!</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">II.</p> -<p class="poetry">He was a childless man,<br /> -And to the gods he prayed<br /> -That his own royal diadem might fall<br /> -Upon a kindred brow.<br /> -He asked a son—<br /> -And Odin granted to his agony<br /> -The son he craved.<br /> -Again the evil one<br /> -Blighted the bud of joy—<br /> -He laid his dark hand on the infant’s head,<br /> -And left its evil shadow on his brain,<br /> -He grew an idiot boy!</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">III.</p> -<p class="poetry">The Saxon king,<br /> -A wild, fierce warrior, heard of Vermund’s grief,<br /> -And he did rage to snatch, with greedy hand,<br /> -The sceptre of the blind.<br /> -Madly he poured<br /> -His thousands o’er the land;<br /> -The red steel clashed—<br /> -The curling fire ran—<br /> -The ravens fed<br /> -On beauty, and the eagles gorged on strength,<br /> -The blind prince trembling heard<br /> -His people’s dying groan!</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">IV.</p> -<p class="poetry">The Saxon king<br /> -Rode, like the thunderbolt, his mighty steed<br /> -To the sad Danish camp.<br /> -He mocked the king—<br /> -And to his peers, with haughty action, said<br /> -“Doth it become<br /> -<a name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 237</span>The -noble sons of Odin thus to bend<br /> -The knee before a blind man, and a fool?”</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">V.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Out on thee, wretch!”<br /> -The sightless prince exclaimed;<br /> -“It more becomes the warrior to protect<br /> -Than scorn the weak and aged!—<br /> -Mighty!—to thee—<br /> -Thee! whom we fear to name—<br /> -Thee! strongest pillar of Odin’s great throne—<br /> -Thee! dark, but terrible!—whose woe I bear—<br /> -Thee! whose most awful name<br /> -The reckless echo dares not repeat, and we<br /> -Shudder as we pronounce!<br /> -HODER!—I call on thee!—<br /> -Be thou the judge<br /> -Between this wretch and me!”</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">VI.</p> -<p class="poetry">The Saxon heard<br /> -And shrunk at that dread name—<br /> -The nobles groaned—<br /> -The father wept, and clasped,<br /> -To his chilled heart, his dumb and idiot boy.<br /> -When, lo! a wonder!—<br /> -His sacred tears fell on the youthful brow<br /> -Like holy rain upon the scorched up earth,<br /> -And upward to the sun of glory sprung<br /> -The buried seeds of intellect—<br /> -He spoke!—</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">VII.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Ha! scoffer!” said the boy, -“didst thou not know<br /> -The blind and weak are sacred?”—<br /> -His eye shone<br /> -With a miraculous light—<br /> -“Hark! Saxon churl!<br /> -I summon thee unto the field of death—<br /> -<i>I</i>, the dumb idiot—<i>I</i> will meet thee there,<br -/> -And on thy craven bosom write a truth,<br /> -That Vermund hath a son—Denmark a prince,<br /> -Who <i>will</i> protect their glories!”</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">VIII.</p> -<p class="poetry">The day came—<br /> -And Uffon’s fiery chariot bore him forth<br /> -Unto the battle field—<br /> -Less bright—less beautiful<br /> -Is Balder when, from Lidscialf’s diamond steps,<br /> -He rises to illuminate the worlds<br /> -Which wheel caressingly around him—and<br /> -<a name="page238"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -238</span>Gallantly rode the Saxon.<br /> -But the king—<br /> -The blind—the father—where is he? He sits<br /> -On yonder rock, high o’er the foaming sea,<br /> -There to await the battle.<br /> -Should <i>he</i> fall—<br /> -His own—his only one—<br /> -Ocean will catch his form,<br /> -And hide his griefs for ever.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">IX.</p> -<p class="poetry">It was a deadly fight<br /> -Between the Saxon and the Dane;<br /> -And once<br /> -There was a scream, as if the inspired boy<br /> -Was lost, for he had sunk upon his knee—<br /> -But he beheld his father’s sightless eye<br /> -Upturned in agony—<br /> -And he arose—and then<br /> -Another sound was heard—a mighty shout—<br /> -The scorner of the blind was slain!</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">X.</p> -<p class="poetry">The son—he flew,<br /> -A bounding reindeer to his father’s arms—<br /> -He paused—<br /> -<i>They</i> were upraised,<br /> -In attitude of thankfulness<br /> -His lips<br /> -Were pale, and still, and smiling—<br /> -But—his heart<br /> -Had broke in that fierce struggle—<br /> -He was gone—<br /> -Heimdaller’s wings were shadowing him, as o’er<br /> -The wonderous bridge he trod;<br /> -Valkyries bore<br /> -His spirit to the foot of Odin’s throne,<br /> -To tell of Uffon’s glory.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">XI.</p> -<p class="poetry">Nameless one!<br /> -This justice was thy deed—<br /> -We worship thee,<br /> -Although we love thee not!</p> -<p>“No, truly,” said Serimnor, on the conclusion of -the legend; “that would be quite impossible either for -heaven or earth; but glory to the good Uffon—few warriors -in Valhalla are more esteemed <a name="page239"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 239</span>than he. The skull of the -impious Saxon is now his drinking cup; and his father, restored -to sight, beholds the pledge of victory with undying felicity: -and, in the combats and martial sports of the morning, the battle -between his noble son and the Saxon is daily renewed, to gladden -him with the sound of conquest and triumph over his shadowy -foe.” “Look, Serimnor,” said the horse of -Odin, interrupting him impatiently, as a bright flash of -lightning darted into the hall and played against his head for a -moment; “Look, we are again outstaying our time—the -son of Rinda is shooting his brilliant arrows, and one has -already touched you: let us obey the summons, and not provoke him -to make his fatal shafts unerring.” “Away, -then!” cried Heidruna. The ravens flapped their -wings—Brandomann rose—and the hall was cleared in a -moment.</p> -<p>Ildegarda had hitherto been happy in the reports of the magic -mirror, and satisfied with its assurances of her father’s -safety. On the first of the tenth month of her residence on -the island, she again withdrew the curtain,—but a different -spectacle awaited her; Haquin was lying wounded upon his couch, -pale and insensible, while his attendants were anxiously -endeavouring to stanch the blood which flowed from his injured -side. The princess became wild with apprehension; instantly -she sought her faithful Brandomann, to pour into his bosom the -grief which distracted hers. He listened with tender -sympathy. “There has been a battle between your -father and Frotho, no doubt,” he replied; “but though -I am not informed of all the particulars, I know that Haquin will -not die of this wound: take comfort from this <a -name="page240"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 240</span>assurance, -for when did I ever deceive you?” But Ildegarda -refused all consolation, and persisted in thinking and making -herself the most miserable of all human beings. Her father -was ill—wounded—in need of her assistance—and -she herself uncertain of his fate for a whole month at -least. Her anxiety hourly increased, and her grief, too -powerful to be concealed from Brandomann, affected him no less -painfully than herself. It was in vain he exerted his -talents to divert her anguish; she was grateful for his kindness, -but did not shed one tear the less: his conversation had lost its -charms, his tales and songs their interest. Brandomann -discovered this, and, after a terrible struggle, his generous -nature overmastered every selfish and interested feeling. -“I cannot,” said he at length to the weeping -princess; “I cannot bear to witness your sorrow, and know -that I am the cause. For your sake I will again disobey the -command of Odin, which had decreed your captivity to be -perpetual; you shall go to your father: promise me that you will -return hither, and you shall be swiftly conveyed to his -tent—and remain with him seven days; at the close of that -period you must return, or my life will pay the forfeit of my -fault, and be demanded to appease the anger of Odin. Go, -then, beloved princess,—but sometimes think of Brandomann, -and what he will suffer for your sake.” The princess -could scarcely believe what she heard: in a rapture of joy she -accepted the offer, and was most fervent in her promises to -return at the expiration of seven days. Brandomann sighed -heavily, but made no reply to her frequent protestations of their -soon meeting again. “You shall be with your father -to-morrow morning,” <a name="page241"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 241</span>said he: “merely take this -ring—put it upon your finger when you go to rest to-night, -and do the same thing when you wish to return to me; but do not -wear it at any other time.” The princess joyfully -accepted the gift—took an affectionate leave of her admired -monster—and retired to rest full of hope and -expectation—expectations which were fully realised on her -awaking in the morning; for she found her couch in her -father’s tent, and he himself gazing upon her with tender -anxiety and wonder.</p> -<p>The joy of Haquin, at again folding his beloved child to his -bosom, was considerably damped by the narrative of her -adventures, and the promise which she had given to Brandomann to -return. As he did not deem it possible that she intended to -keep her word, he was not a little astonished at her declaration, -when she assured him she could remain with him only during the -seven days. He argued strongly against her intention; and -she at present, unwilling to distress him, ceased to oppose his -opinions, and occupied herself entirely with the care of his -health, knowing that it would always be in her power to return -whenever she felt the inclination. Her tender attention was -fully appreciated by Haquin, but she herself was far from being -at ease in the midst of a tumultuous camp, where her wishes were -not anticipated with the swift and delighted obedience of her -island attendants: she had no change of dress either: a -circumstance peculiarly vexatious, as she was daily surrounded by -admiring warriors, who constantly paid homage to her -charms,—and among whom prince Harold was not the least -fervent in his expressions of devotion to her beauty. -Awakening one morning after many regrets <a -name="page242"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 242</span>upon this -subject to herself overnight, she was surprised to see the chest -which ornamented her chamber at Moskoe, and which contained her -superb wardrobe, standing by the side of her couch: she opened it -hastily: “Kind, generous Brandomann, always alike -solicitous for my happiness and pleasure,” she exclaimed; -“how much do I not owe thee!” She immediately -decorated her lovely person and returned to her father, who, -cheered by her presence and renovated by her care, was quickly -recovering from the effects of his wound: he now informed her -that Haldane was universally said to have been murdered by his -uncle; and that, in consequence of their disgust at this act of -cruelty, many noble Danes had resorted to the standard of Harold, -whom they unanimously called to the throne, though they held not -the gentle boy in the same estimation as his more valiant -brother. To this he added, that as the young king had -declared a passion for Ildegarda, he had determined to unite them -despite of the wrath of Frotho, and thus repay her long captivity -by placing her upon a throne. His daughter had many -objections to this arrangement, but her father’s heart -appeared to joy so deeply in its contemplation that Ildegarda had -not the courage to undeceive him: the tenderness of Haquin, the -novelty of again seeing human faces, and the pleasure of -listening to the gallant praises of the noble Danes, at length -rendered Ildegarda forgetful of her promise, and not only seven -days, but twice that number slipped away, ere she called to mind -the probable anxiety of Brandomann. She now determined to -repair her fault and hasten back to the island, but when, upon -retiring to rest, she sought her ring to place it <a -name="page243"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 243</span>upon her -finger, the talisman was nowhere to be found. In great -distress she hastened to her father, expecting him perhaps to -sympathise in her misfortune, but, unlike the gentle monster of -the Maelstrom, he laughed at her anxiety, and congratulated her -upon her loss; he bade her be under no apprehension respecting -her ring, since it was safe in his possession—he had stolen -it on being informed of its virtue, in order to secure her -company,—“which,” he continued, “it -appears, without this precaution I should have lost.” -He observed that he could not permit such a preposterous union -between beauty and a beast, who, instead of being a descendant of -Odin, was doubtless a member of the infernal royal family of Lok, -and consequently some diabolical sorcerer, who had thus bought -her, body and soul, of Frotho: he would give her, he remarked, a -husband better suited to her rank and beauty, and commanded her -to prepare to espouse the royal cousin Harold, within at least -ten days. Ildegarda was much startled by this conversation; -and she who in the desolate island had mourned over the idea of -perpetual captivity, now wept with more bitterness her recovered -liberty, and the prospect of never more returning to her prison; -she thought of the tender obedience of Brandomann to her lightest -wish, and his generous self-denial upon all occasions respecting -her. She lamented the kind-hearted Serimnor, the chivalrous -horse, the affectionate goat, and even the ravens and reindeer -received the tribute of her tears; but the idea of the probable -suffering of Brandomann for his devotion to her, and disobedience -in her favour, filled her heart with the most poignant regret; -she hated Harold, and she esteemed her Maelstrom <a -name="page244"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 244</span>friend, and -not a day passed without the severest search for the ring that -was to convey her back to his territories. At length Rinda, -in pity, heard her prayers. In her father’s bosom, -during his sleep, she found her glittering ring, which she -hastily secured as her dearest treasure, and instantly retired to -rest; and when morning again looked upon her, it was in her -chamber of the desolate isle.</p> -<p>Ildegarda scarce waited fully to throw off the fetters of -sleep ere she descended to the marble hall, and instantly gave -the signal which used to summon Brandomann to her presence, and -which he had never neglected; now it was unheeded. Alarmed, -she repeated it more strongly—Brandomann replied not to the -call; half-distracted she hurried through the palace and harrowed -her own feelings by recalling to mind his mournful prediction of -the fate which awaited him, should she exceed her allotted -time. She shuddered to reflect how long that time had -elapsed. From the palace she traversed the gardens, running -wildly with an aching heart and burning brow to every quarter, -and asking every object she met for tidings of her lamented -Brandomann: the birds and the echoes alone replied to her -mournful queries, and disconsolate and despairing she threw -herself upon the sod to give vent to the bitterness of her -sorrow, and lament undisturbed her affliction. -“Brandomann!” she exclaimed; “Brandomann! where -art thou? friend of my soul, art thou yet in existence, or hath -my ingratitude destroyed thee? Oh, if thou hearest, if thou -beholdest these tears, have pity on thy wretched Ildegarda, and -hasten to relieve her agony, and pardon her involuntary -crime.” She started up in a <a -name="page245"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 245</span>sudden -ecstasy, for a low groan at no great distance from her seemed to -be an answer to her question; she rushed forward in that -direction, and soon beheld the hapless Brandomann stretched upon -the earth, and apparently in the agonies of death; but her -beloved voice, the touch of her gentle hand, the glance of her -worshipped eye, either of these would have recalled him to life, -and now all were lavishly employed to restore him: he looked up -for a moment. Mournfully he said, “Beloved, thou art -come to see me die!” and then relapsed into stupor and -forgetfulness. Ildegarda wept in agony—she was -hanging over him in listless sorrow, when her thoughts were -aroused by the appearance of Heidruna. “Brandomann is -dying,” said the white goat, “and from grief at your -neglect; but you have returned, and, in compassion to your -sufferings, I am permitted to restore him to you: take the bowl -you see yonder, draw forth a portion of my milk, and give it to -his lips; the hydromel of heaven will call him back to -life.” Ildegarda obeyed—she gave the miraculous -draught to Brandomann, who as instantly recovered his reason and -his strength; with tears of joy she expressed her gratitude to -Heidruna; and the Moskoe chief observing her delight, and too -happy once more to behold her, readily forgave her all he had -suffered in her absence. There was much happiness that -night in the marble palace; Sleipner bowed down his arched neck -to receive a pat from her snowy hand; Serimnor grinned till his -huge tusks were completely visible; the ravens presented her the -tips of their wings, and flew screaming about, as if <i>they</i> -had been drinking the hydromel of Valhalla. Ildegarda was -happy, and Brandomann dared not <a name="page246"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 246</span>trust his feelings to words. -Sunny walks and moonlight musings were now the pursuits of the -imprisoned pair; for instead of retiring to rest, as formerly, -when the Valhalla people went to their party, they roamed over -the island, contemplating the stars, and talking tenderly of -course, for when were love and moonshine separated? It is -true, in this instance, the tenderness was all on one side; for -though Ildegarda permitted it, since she saw the happiness it -gave to Brandomann, she yet could not prevail upon herself to -return it, or say the words he wished to hear from her -lips. One evening, as thus, in the tranquil moonlight, they -sat alone in the summery isle, Ildegarda was astonished, by the -appearance of a wonder she had never yet remarked in the island; -the moon was suddenly eclipsed by a light so glorious, yet so -soft, that every object around her was visible in the brightness -of beaming gold, yet without giving pain to the sense. -Brandomann remarked her admiration. “This beauteous -light,” said he, “is a mark of the approbation of the -father of the gods, at some virtuous action of a favourite of -heaven; it is Odin’s fire, dear Ildegarda, the light of his -glorious smile; and shining now as it does upon thee, and our -lonely isle, it comes to tell thee he is satisfied with thy past -conduct, and approves thy present.” Scarcely was this -explanation given, ere the beauteous light died away from the -mountains and the palace, and night wore again her solemn robe of -darkness. As they prepared to return, the star-studded sky, -the jewel-paved floor of the palaces of Asgard, sparkling with -its unnumbered lights, and shining in its soft blue glory, struck -on their souls with delight; and, while they were gazing in -rapture, a large and <a name="page247"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 247</span>brilliant star shot from its place -in the heaven and vanished rapidly from their sight. -“Some noble warrior or virtuous sage has closed his eyes -upon this mortal scene,” said Brandomann, tenderly: -“that was the star of his destiny; it fell from its seat in -the heaven when he quitted his on the earth: this is the sign -that tells to the survivors his fate, if it is fulfilled in the -night; by day it is the vision of the rainbow bridge, the sacred -arch that connects this earth with heaven, and over which the -spirits of the just must pass.” “I have heard -that it is only visible to mortal sight, when the peculiarly -brave and virtuous ascend its brilliant road,” said -Ildegarda. “And you have heard aright, -dearest,” replied Brandomann; “it is only then that -the guardian spirit of the bridge, Heimdaller of the radiant -brow, descends from his abode on its top to meet and welcome the -traveller; then it is, that the light from his rushing wings, and -the gems which compose his jewelled crown, shine so strongly on -the arch, as to render it visible to mortal sight, clad in the -reflected glories of its guardian’s diadem.”</p> -<p>On the morrow Brandomann relieved her anxiety, which had been -awakened by the sight of the falling star, lest her -father’s should no more have a seat in the heavens, nor -himself a name on the earth. “A mild and gracious -being hath left us,” said he, “for the happier scenes -of Asgard; Sevald is dead—the virtuous son of the abandoned -Frotho is no more—he fell, as became his race, in the -battle-field, contending against your victorious father and his -kinsman Harold, against whom the tyrant rages and vows -destruction, as now the only rival he has to fear.” -The princess was satisfied by this explanation, the more -especially as <a name="page248"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -248</span>the first day of the month again presented the person -of her father, though surrounded by the bustle of war.</p> -<h3>PART V.<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">ODIN.</span></h3> -<blockquote><p>He hath borne all things well.</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span -class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>—<i>Macbeth</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Whence</span> is it, -Brandomann,” said Sleipner one evening to the Scaldre, -“that among those of the heroes whose virtues and glories -you are nightly celebrating, I never heard the actions of Odin; -why, while thus honouring his friends, are you neglectful of the -great father of our race? Surely he, from whom all -inspiration flows, deserves the best, ay, and the finest fruits -of your genius!” “It was only because I feared -my feeble strains would not do justice to the lofty -subject,” replied Brandomann; “the glory of the -father of gods and men requires a mightier hand than mine to -celebrate it; Brage alone should strike the golden chord to his -honour—alone should sing of deeds beyond the feeble thought -of mortality; that which I can, I will; I dare not wake the voice -of song, but I will speak of his wondrous deeds, that to-night, -in Valhalla, thou mayest tell bright Asgard’s king that I -have instructed this lovely maiden what honours and love are due -to the first of her race, and the friend of her father. -Will it please thee, Ildegarda, to listen to the legend of -Sigge?” “Beyond all other things,” -replied the princess, pleasedly: and Brandomann, smiling, -began—</p> -<p><a name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 249</span>From -his high and everlasting throne in Valhalla, had Odin, the -dispenser of good, poured forth, with unsparing hand, innumerable -benefits upon his attendant spirits. In the burning -benevolence of his heart he forgot, or he disregarded, that to -some essences obligation is pain, and gratitude a toil; so high -did he raise some of those bright creations that stood nearest to -his throne, that they became too great for obedience, and -impatient of the most gentle restraint. Lok, the most -glorious of these glorious things, seated on the lowest step of -the throne of light, saw but one between him and the highest; and -once on that, what should restrain from him the throne of the -universe? Thus he thought, and thus he did: by his -eloquence he seduced the higher spirits from their duty—by -his beauty and promises the lower. The worlds of Asgard -sent their governing spirits forth to fight under his banner, and -Surter brought myriads to his side. For the first time -since the creation, the standards of revolt flew in the cities of -Asgard, and the proud Lok drove back, with contempt, the -interceding ministers of Odin, who came to remonstrate upon his -madness. Confident in his power, the giant spirit entered -Valasciolf, the city of the king, and dared even advance to -Valhalla: the immortal beings who surround the diamond throne -shuddered at his presumption, and, veiling their bright heads -from the terrible glances of Odin, wept the approaching destiny -of companions once so beloved, which they read in the eye of -their master: the sovereign of the universe gave no command to -his people—he uttered no reproach—he suffered his -faithful spirits to fly before the sword of Lok and the devouring -fires of Surter—he even permitted the <a -name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 250</span>lost ones -to approach the steps of his eternal throne—then, when with -proud exultation they advanced to seize upon him whose power they -believed departed, he calmly arose from his seat and stretched -out his right hand, armed with its invincible falchion, towards -his enemies: at that tremendous signal Niord let loose the oceans -of heaven, and, in terrific grandeur they came rolling down upon -the revolted; the winds from all the worlds were summoned up to -heaven to aid their master, and rend and scatter his -offenders. Balder deserted his throne in the orb of -day,—and the mad and governless globe flew up into Asgard, -and burst its destructive flames upon the rebels. Thor, the -first-born of Odin, threw by his star-formed diadem, girded his -brow with the thunder, and, wielding the red bolt of vengeance, -rushed upon them. The sightless horror rose in his terrible -strength, and the arrows of Vile, unerring as the lance of Hela, -flew among the foes: all was confusion, terror, and -despair—cries of anguish polluted the happy city—Odin -recalled his warriors, and plunged their enemies in the burning -lake, bidding the proud Lok and the ambitious Surter obtain their -wish and seat themselves on thrones.</p> -<p>But though the power of the infernal spirits was thus curbed, -it was not destroyed; and, still invincible in malice, they -resolved to wound Odin through his favourite, man. Lok gave -birth to the snaky sin, whose folds encircle the earth, and bade -him breathe from his poisonous jaws upon her surface the blast of -contention and hate: he obeyed; and man, no longer beneficent and -kind, rose up against his brother; with bitter words he poured -curses on the father who called him into <a -name="page251"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 251</span>life, and -smote on the bosom that had nourished him in helplessness. -The father of evil beheld and smiled—his work was half -accomplished—and he called into existence death, to finish -the deeds begun: the pale shadow stalked over the earth and drank -the crimson blood till she grew wanton in her mirth, and besought -her father for a companion: he heard, and sent Fenris up to -follow her steps, and exult in her multiplied victims. The -fiends in hell heard the sounds of their triumph, and shouted -responsive, when the shivering spirits of the slain were hurled -weeping into Niftheim. At length their cruel joy was heard -in Asgard, at the same moment that sounds of sorrow ascended from -the earth, from the few who still remembered his name. It -was from Scythia the plaining voice arose, and the monarch, -looking down from his throne, beheld the last remnant of his -people sinking beneath the power of the Roman. Now then he -determined to descend to the earth, not only to lead them to -conquest, but teach them wisdom and virtue. Frea, the -mother of the gods, resolved to partake the toils of her husband; -and Thor, the eldest born of Odin, the ruler of the air, forsook -his palace of nine hundred and forty halls, laid by his terrific -thunderbolt, and his diadem of twelve stars, and, debasing his -giant frame to the standard of humanity, descended with his -father to the earth. Cased in the armour of Scythians, they -joined the troops of that beloved people, and the father god -bidding them contend no longer against the power of the Romans, -to whom Odin had given their country, promised to lead them to -other fields, and give them other lands for their -inheritance. The fierce Scythians yielded <a -name="page252"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 252</span>to the -persuasive voice of him whom they only knew as the warrior Sigge, -and, rather than submit to the slavery they abhorred, they -forsook the tombs of their fathers, and sought an empire in the -north.</p> -<p>In vain the inhabitants of these regions sought to oppose the -establishment of the heaven-conducted Scythians; in every battle -they were defeated and driven with loss from their cities: the -arrows of Frea carried destruction to the enemy—the mallet -of Thor crushed thousands—and Odin, raging through their -ranks, now as a warrior, now as a ferocious lion, spread -devastation through their armies, and drove them from the -field. The Scythians saw these wonders, and secretly -acknowledged Valhalla’s lord beneath the form of -Sigge. When the rage of battle was past, he lulled the -wounded to repose, and arrested the parting spirits of the dying -with the celestial strains of his harp; the wounds of his people -were cured, and their strength restored by his celestial power, -while, from the same cause, his enemies were bereft of courage -and of vigour. Sweden and Norway yielded to the matchless -warrior, and received with joy the unknown Sigge for their king, -but the Danes refused to acknowledge the leader of armies; and -Mimer, their prince, an enchanter, and the friend of Lok, opposed -himself against the victorious prince of Scythia. Before -the assembled Danes he contended with the stranger in eloquence -and poetry, and in these his own people were compelled, by the -severe laws of truth, to yield the palm to his rival. Mimer -was wise, eloquent, and brave; the strains of his harp were only -inferior to those of Sigge, and he felt deeply the injury which -he had sustained by the decision against him. Determined <a -name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 253</span>to recover, -with his sword, the glory he had lost, he called his armies -together, and bade defiance to the Scythians: the opposing bands -drew near; furious was the contest, for now, like a tiger sprung -Mimer on his foes—now as a fiery serpent stung their -hearts, or crushed them in his mighty folds. As terrible -raged Odin in various forms, carrying dismay around him, and -thinning the ranks of the valiant Danes. At length the -monarchs met—in human form stood Mimer—in human form, -prepared to oppose him, stood Valhalla’s mighty king: but -momentary was the contest, the terrible blow of the Scythian -brought the head of the Dane to his feet, as its faltering tongue -pronounced the name of Odin. The foe fled to the camp, -while the father of men again raised to life his beloved -Scythians who had fallen in this, the greatest of his -fields. At length, wishing to give peace to the weary land, -he summoned the Danish chiefs to meet him in conference. -Seated on a throne, he received the warriors: in one hand he held -the sceptre of his power, the other rested on a golden dish, in -which, now richly embalmed, and adorned with a crown of gold, lay -the head of the wretched Mimer. The chiefs gazed in -silence—a silence unbroken by human sounds, but disturbed -by the voice of the dead, for the ghastly head opened its closed -lips, fixed its eyes, and bade, in hollow but authoritative -tones, its countrymen no longer oppose the will of the gods, but -receive for their prince and lawgiver him who was master of the -world! Again it sunk into silence, and the astonished -Danes, obeying its dictates, fell at the feet of the conqueror of -Mimer. And now, seated in peace on the thrones of the -north, more <a name="page254"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -254</span>brightly shone the unmatched virtues of Sigge. He -taught his subjects husbandry—he taught them to plough the -waters—he opened to them the riches of commerce—and -he dug from the earth the treasures which ages had concealed in -her bosom;—he punished vice with severity—he rewarded -virtue with munificence—he taught them letters, instructed -them in the mysteries of the Runic—and obliged them to -cultivate the milder graces of music and verse;—he allured -men to obey by the charms of his eloquence and the splendour of -his glory; and he spoke to their reason by his divine Hovamaal, -which he gave them as his best gift—his richest -legacy. In this he bade them do no wrong to each -other—to honour the eternal gods—and to render up -life at the command of their country. When he beheld the -good effect of his regulations, and saw his people firmly -attached to his laws, he called around him his children, born of -his mortal wives, of the daughters of Scythia, and, dividing his -dominions among them, taught them to govern according to his -ordinances and example. Satisfied with his work, he called -Frea and Thor to his side, and, blessing once more his mortal -children, ascended with them into the regions of light. -Then loudly the Danes acknowledged Odin, and paid their homage to -his glory; to his race they have ever been faithful, for they -still fill the earthly thrones of their father, who, from his -abode in Asgard, looks down upon his children, and crowns their -lives with prosperity: and thus shall he do till the long night -which is to witness the last battle of the gods—the last -attack of Lok and his allies, and which for ages they have been -preparing—against Odin and the happy spirits of <a -name="page255"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -255</span>Asgard. In the dreadful conflict, men and demons, -oceans, earths, Niftheim, nay, even Asgard itself, shall be -involved in one general wreck—one entire and -undistinguished ruin; the infernal spirits shall fall in the -convulsions—evil shall be no more—and from the ashes -of the universe shall arise a brighter heaven—a gloomier -hell, than those which have passed away. To the glorious -seats of Gimle, the city of burnished gold—to its -diamond-studded palaces and star-paved courts—shall the -spirits of the just ascend, with Odin and his triumphant sons, to -the enjoyment of one endless festival; while the cowards and -wicked of the earth shall sink with their infernal -allies—the revolted of heaven—into the caves of -Nastronde, an abode more horrible than Niftheim—a den built -up of the carcasses of snakes, and illuminated by devouring -flames, where ever-enduring sorrow shall be the punishment of the -lost, from which they shall have no power to escape, again to -disturb the repose of the just.</p> -<p>Honour and praise to Frea—victory to Thor—glory to -Odin, the greatest, and the best—hail to the master of gods -and men!</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p>Happily for his hearers, it was here, at length, that the -merciless Brandomann terminated his long-winded history. -Sleipner had for some time been his only auditor—Ildegarda -had been nodding repeatedly—Heidruna fidgetily trotting -backwards and forwards to the portal, watching the -clouds—Serimnor had given two or three most portentous -yawns—while the two ravens <a name="page256"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 256</span>who did every thing in concert, had -tucked their heads under their wings, and gone fairly to -sleep:—but they all started up when the hum of his voice -had ceased, and thanked the good Brandomann as sincerely as if -they had been excessively delighted, for they were grateful that -he had finished at last, and were besides too well bred not to be -charmed with what had been done entirely for their amusement.</p> -<p>On the following day, during their usual rambles about the -island, the princess looked so unusually depressed, and said so -little in reply to the observations of her companion, that his -attention, ever on the watch, was aroused by her sadness; -tenderly he inquired the cause. “I will tell -you,” replied Ildegarda: “when absent from you, and -believing your life in danger, my only anxiety was to return; -now, when that difficulty has passed away, I confess I am -wretched respecting my father’s feelings and conduct, when -he shall discover that I have quitted him for ever; neither is my -heart without a pang when I reflect that I shall see him no -more. Oh that I knew what is to come!—that I could -look into the future, and behold my destiny and his!” -“I know not that it is in my power altogether to fulfil -your wishes,” answered Brandomann; “but I can give -you a glance into the future, so as to discover its general -complexion, but not to enable you to read exactly the very page -of destiny. That which I can, to gratify your curiosity, I -will do,—I will arrest for a few minutes the flight of the -triune deity Time, and, by her appearance, we shall be able to -judge of what is to come.—Urda, Werandi, Skulda!” -continued Brandomann, raising his powerful voice to its utmost <a -name="page257"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 257</span>pitch, -“obey the command of the lord of the Maelstrom, the mighty -delegate of Odin—pause in your flight for a moment, and -stand visibly before him!” Scarcely was the -peremptory order uttered, ere a light cloud was seen advancing -towards them from the sea, and when it became stationary -Ildegarda beheld a female form slowly and gracefully emerging -from its centre; her features were indistinctly visible, and upon -the floating misty robe that enveloped her figure, many changing -objects were, some faintly, some powerfully, represented. -“It is Urda the Past,” said Brandomann to Ildegarda; -“the events written upon her breast and brow are partially -concealed in her garment of oblivion and doubt; and when this is -penetrated by mortal sight, they are still seen through the mists -of passion and prejudice, by which she is ever surrounded: look -now upon her breast and brow—what objects do they represent -to you?” “I see a criminal,” said the -princess, “about to suffer the sentence of -justice—the executioner is preparing to -strike.” “To my view the representation is -different,” replied Brandomann; “I see a crowned king -falling beneath the murderous swords of his rebellious -subjects.” “I observe a dying parent,” -continued Ildegarda, “who consigns his child to a noble -warrior who weeps by his couch, but presses the babe to his -heart.” “I also see the dying father,” -said Brandomann, “but he resigns his infant to a demon in -form, and worse than a demon in heart, for he instantly plunges a -dagger in its throat: what else do you remark?” -“Many other objects,” continued the princess, -“but nothing clearly; the goddess herself is retiring -slowly from my gaze, and to whom does <a name="page258"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 258</span>she give place?” -“To Werandi the Present,” answered Brandomann, -“in snow-white robe, with her unveiled face and open brow -and eye—how clear she looks upon us!—and her garments -will shew us our actions of this moment:—but she retires, -and Skulda the Future supplies her place; clad in a robe of -darkness, she exhibits nothing to our eyes, and the veil which -covers her person conceals also her face from our observation: -she shall withdraw it, and her smile or frown will shadow forth -your destiny.” The goddess gently withdrew her veil, -and the soft enchanting smile which she beamed upon the princess -banished anxiety from her bosom, and graced the departure of the -triune spirit with the sweet attribute of benevolence.</p> -<p>A few days after the prophetic smile of the deity of Time had -given such hope to the heart of Ildegarda, they were wandering -about the gardens of the palace, astonished by the roaring of -thunders which announced a distant storm: they were surprised by -the sudden change from daylight to darkness, and were puzzling -each other respecting its cause, when the storm died rapidly -away, the clouds fell down in a gentle shower, and the rainbow -bridge stood out in faint splendour from the heavens. -“Look, dearest,” said Brandomann; “the spirit -of the bow has lowered his beautiful bridge—some of the -lesser warriors are ascending to Valhalla—I will address -the guardian of it, and bid him render the road and its -passengers visible to your sight.—All hail Heimdaller of -the coloured crown!” continued Brandomann, “the -friend of Odin speaks to thee; beautiful spirit of the rushing -wings and eyes of tender glory, let us look upon thy face, <a -name="page259"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 259</span>and the -road which leads to thy dwelling!” The silvery voice -of the spirit answered him, giving an immediate assent to his -desire, and in a moment the road and its travellers became -visible to Ildegarda. Slowly, and with feeble steps, the -wounded warriors dragged themselves on till they reached the -summit of the bridge, when the gates of light flew open, and the -spirit, in giving them his hand bestowed upon them strength and -beauty, and thus prepared them for the presence of Odin and the -glories of the Valhalla.</p> -<p>While Ildegarda with intense interest was watching the solemn -procession of the dead, her eyes were suddenly dazzled by a -brilliant light thrown upon the bridge, which now shone out in -tenfold splendour, colouring the mountains of the island with -tints of its beautiful hues. She looked up, and beheld the -spirit of the bow descending, glorious in his youthful beauty; -his diadem of many-coloured gems was on his lofty brow, and, in -the ineffable loveliness of his sunny smile, there was a -sweetness that made Ildegarda weep. “He goes to -welcome one of the greatest of mortal heroes,” said -Brandomann—“one of the favourites of Odin; his -presence throws this glory round him, and at this moment the -beings of earth, who gaze upon the bridge, behold its colours at -the brightest: but see—at the foot of the arch there is one -ascending to meet the spirit!—his wounds are -terrible—his bosom is fearfully gored—and his steps -are feeble and slow—but he has the brow and the port of a -hero; as yet I know him not.” “But <i>I</i> -do!” shrieked the hapless Ildegarda—“O -Brandomann, I know him well!” The lord of the -Maelstrom looked up again, and painfully recognised the -shadow—it <a name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -260</span>was indeed her father;—the pale inhabitant of -another world, whom she saw ascending slowly to meet the welcome -smile of the angel of light, was once the noble Haquin, the last -friend of Harold and his sons. Brandomann gazed in grief -and terror, and the sorrow he felt for the death of the warrior -was scarcely mitigated by the change wrought in his wearied frame -by the touch of the radiant Heimdaller. -“Ildegarda!” he cried in a voice of tenderness and -pity; “Ildegarda, think not that thou art alone in the -world, or that all that loved thee have left it; look up, my dear -one!—look on the happiness of thy noble father, and cease -to regret his fate; what could thy love offer him in exchange for -this?” Ildegarda mournfully assented as she saw his -glory, and her grief became more resigned and gentle. She -returned to the palace with Brandomann, who, far from attempting -to console, wept with her the loss she had sustained. In -the evening her friends did not as usual visit the island, but -they explained the cause of their absence on the next. It -was in honour of Haquin they had been detained at Valhalla, as -Odin had commanded the feast earlier, in order to compliment this -noble warrior,—“who now,” continued Sleipner, -“sits highest in the hall, and nearest to Odin’s -self.”</p> -<p>Time reconciled the princess to her father’s death, and -to her hopeless imprisonment in Moskoe. The generous -Brandomann, now that she had lost in the world all that was dear -to her, and was most entirely in his power, never spoke to her of -the love which it was but too plain he bore her. She saw -and rewarded his virtue.</p> -<p>“Brandomann!” she said to him one day as they -wandered through the gardens of the desolate <a -name="page261"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 261</span>isle; -“Brandomann, friend of my heart, in the world, where my -father walks no longer, I have no interest, and can never wish to -return; yet I feel that I could love and render some deserving -being more happy than a lonely destiny could make him; thou alone -art worthy of this heart, and of the duty which I will pay thee; -I cannot love thee as I once loved Haldane—as I fear I -should love him still—that feeling it is not in thy power -to inspire; but I honour thy virtue, and am grateful for its -exercise. Wilt thou accept this hand—this -heart? If so, take me, Brandomann, for I am -thine!”</p> -<p>She threw herself as she spoke, into the arms which opened -transportedly to receive her, and bowed her head upon his -breast. She could not distinguish his reply, for a sudden -peal of thunder rolled above their heads, and the earth was -shaken to its foundation—a frightful darkness covered the -island, and shrieks and howlings rung in their ears, mingled with -shouts of triumph and the cheering blasts of the trumpet. -Ildegarda clung closer to her lover for protection, when a -gentle, well-known voice reassured her spirits and relieved her -terrors. “Look on me, my beloved,” it said; -“look on me, and receive the reward of thy virtue, and the -approbation of Heaven on thy choice.” The princess -raised her eyes to the face of her lover, and beheld—not -Brandomann, but Haldane—the one, the only beloved, the -first choice of her innocent heart; it was on his bosom she -leaned—it was his arm that supported her slender form: she -trembled with painful emotion. “But -Brandomann?” she demanded—“Is at thy feet, my -beloved,” replied the graceful warrior: “beneath that -hideous form, Lok, in revenge for <a name="page262"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 262</span>an ancient scorn, had condemned me -to wear out my life, unless I could inspire a royal virgin with -sufficient love to become my wife. Odin, in compassion to -my sufferings, confined me to this island, and endowed me with -sufficient power to fulfil the condition, and deceive and baffle -the evil spirits themselves, by the means of their wretched -agent, the detestable Frotho. Around thee stand the gallant -chiefs and the Norwegian captives, who were sent against the -monster of the Maelstrom, and who seemed to be destroyed by my -vengeance; they are now my friends, and wait to conduct us to -Denmark, where Haldane will lay his crown at thy -feet.” The chiefs paid their homage to the princess, -and immediately after, there arrived, to offer their sincere -congratulations, her tender friends of many moons, the -eight-legged, four-legged, and two-legged animals of -Valhalla. Ildegarda, even on the bosom of Haldane, wept at -the parting; for she knew she should behold them no more. -They attended her to the shore, and beheld her embark in the -gallant ship which Niord, at the command of Odin, had preserved -for them in one of the ocean caves. Soon they were wafted -to Denmark, and Haldane burst upon the usurper so suddenly, that -he had no time even to arm his household guards for his -defence. He was presiding at a festival when Haldane -entered his presence; some of his nobles humbly acknowledged -their prince, and the others, not caring to attack him, made the -best of their way out of the palace, leaving the miserable Frotho -in the power of his nephew, who, without giving him time to make -his will, threw him headlong into the cistern of mead before -which he was sitting.</p> -<p><a name="page263"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -263</span>Whether Haldane, in his natural shape, was as amiable -and complaisant as he had been under his assumed one, is a -question which the historian of his life cannot answer—nor -whether Ildegarda, on her throne in Denmark, found as true -friends and faithful servants as she had in the gulf of the -Maelstrom: certain it is, she lived to a great age with her -glorious husband, (who was the greatest prince of the race of Dan -that ever swayed the sceptre of the north,) and that once or -twice during their lives they had together visited the desolate -isle; and the princess, to the great scandal of the ladies and -gentlemen of the court, and surprise of her husband, wept -bitterly on finding that the marble palace and its beautiful -gardens had disappeared, the Moskoe isle had resumed its ancient -appearance, and nothing remained to mark it out as the scene of -such wonders as had passed in it. It has much the same -character at this hour; and it would be very difficult to -persuade its inhabitants, or the stranger who may visit its -shores, that it once was a paradise only second to the bowers of -Valasciolf’s own. You, gentle reader, know better; -and complimenting you on the patience by which you have acquired -this knowledge, I bid you, for the present, farewell.</p> -<h3><a name="page264"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -264</span>NOTES<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">TO THE</span><br /> -LORD OF THE MAELSTROM.</h3> -<h4>PART I.</h4> -<p><i>Olave the Second</i>—one of the early kings of -Denmark, of the race of Dan. These princes believed -themselves descended from Odin. Olave was a worthless, -profligate prince, who left two sons, who succeeded him; the -elder, Frotho the Fifth, murdered his brother Harold, and -afterwards the assassin who, by his own order, had stabbed -him. He endeavoured to secure the persons of the princes -his nephews; but a nobleman, friend to their father, conveyed -them out of his reach, and concealed them in a cave till they -were of an age to revenge these injuries.</p> -<p><i>Asgard</i>—the country of the gods; the Olympus of -the north.</p> -<p>Valasciolf—its chief city, in which the principal -divinities and more illustrious dead resided in magnificent -palaces.</p> -<p><i>Valhalla</i>—the chief palace of Valasciolf, the -regal residence of Odin.</p> -<p><i>Niftheim</i>—Hell. A territory of devouring -flames typifying eternal remorse; the abode of the evil principle -and his attendant spirits.</p> -<p><i>Feggo</i>—the brother of Harwendil, king of Jutland, -and uncle to Hamlet. The latter prince feigned madness -after the murder of his father, but killed Feggo at a -festival. He succeeded to the crown, which he wore with -honour till killed in battle by Viglet, king of Denmark.</p> -<p><i>Lok</i>—the evil principle. He gave birth to -Midgard (sin), the snake whose folds encircle the -earth—Hela (death)—and the wolf Fenris, the guardian -of the gate of hell; these were the evil progeny of Lok, begotten -for the destruction of the human race.</p> -<p><i>Surter</i>—the evil divinity of fire—the next -in rank to Lok. The Scythians represented him as a -beautiful youth; the Saxons as an old man, to whose honour they -dedicated the seventh day of the week.</p> -<p><i>Balder</i>—son of Odin, god of eloquence and poetry, -and ruler of the sun—the Scandinavian Apollo. He was -represented <a name="page265"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -265</span>as a youth with a burning wheel upon his breast; his -face resembled the sun.</p> -<p><i>Nastronde</i>—According to the Scandinavian -mythology, at the end of the world, during a night which was to -last a year, a tremendous battle was to be fought between the -good and evil spirits, in which the former were to conquer and -reign in Gimle, a more glorious heaven than Asgard; while the -wicked were to be banished to Nastronde, a new hell, made -purposely for them.</p> -<h4>PART II.</h4> -<p><i>Maelstrom</i>, <i>Malestrom</i>, or -<i>Moskoestrom</i>—a tremendous whirlpool on the Norwegian -coast, very dangerous, and often fatal to navigators venturing -too near it. Moskoe is an island situated in the gulf: -there are also several others.</p> -<p><i>Sleipner</i>—the warrior horse of Odin. He had -four black legs and four white ones: he generally travelled -through the air.</p> -<p><i>Rinda</i>—daughter of Balder, and mother of Vile, by -Odin. The favourite goddess of the Scandinavian women.</p> -<p><i>Hydrasil</i>—the tree of heaven, standing in the -garden of Odin. It was the abode of the disposer of -man’s destiny.</p> -<h4>PART III.</h4> -<p><i>Heidruna</i>—the immortal goat, whose milk was the -hydromel served up nightly at the festivals of Valhalla.</p> -<p><i>Serimnor</i>—the wild boar, whose flesh served them -for food.</p> -<p><i>Hugo</i> and <i>Mumin</i>—the raven messengers of -Odin.</p> -<p><i>Thor</i>—the warrior god—the eldest son of -Odin, who, in his journey over the world, defeated Midgard, and -loosened his folds from the earth; he is typical of divine -justice and vengeance. In the beautiful fables of the -Scalds, he is represented as a stern warrior, armed with an -enormous mallet, and wearing a crown of twelve stars. He -lived in a palace of Valasciolf, of five hundred and forty halls, -and was the ruler and wielder of the thunderbolt.</p> -<p><i>Forsete</i>—divinity of controversy. I believe -this deity is peculiar to the Scandinavians. He lived in a -palace called Glitner.</p> -<p><i>Blind horror</i>—Hoder—whose name was never -pronounced by the Scythians without fear and immediate -expiation—son of Odin, and born blind—the deity of -strength. He was abhorred in heaven, because, from envy, he -attacked Balder, threw him from his throne, and put out the -sun. Odin interfered, and punished Hoder by the arrows of -Vile (lightning), and afterwards restored the sun. It was -thus, in their beautiful and fanciful mythology, like the Greeks, -and I think no <a name="page266"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -266</span>less elegantly, that the Scalds described natural, but -not understood events. This story describes an eclipse of -the sun, the strong and blind Hoder signifying darkness.</p> -<p><i>Lofna</i>—goddess of reconciliation. I believe -this deity is also peculiar to the Scythians; they have deified -her with great propriety. Her post could not have been a -sinecure in a paradise where happiness consisted in drinking and -fighting.</p> -<p><i>Hiarn</i>—his story is strictly historical. It -was Eric the Third who was so maddened by music as to commit -murder for no other cause.</p> -<p><i>Geysers</i>—boiling spouting springs in Iceland: they -are near to Skalholt and Hecla; they spout water to a tremendous -and incredible height.</p> -<p><i>Dofrefeld</i>—a mighty range of Norwegian mountains, -intersected by rivers and cataracts.</p> -<p><i>Dolsteen</i>—a wonderful cavern beneath the Dofrefeld -mountains.</p> -<p><i>Niord</i>—the Scandinavian Neptune.</p> -<h4>PART IV.</h4> -<p><i>Uffon</i>—this story is also historical. -Shakspeare, who read Danish history, borrowed the circumstance of -Vermund’s death for that of Gloster in King Lear.</p> -<p><i>Lidscialf</i>—the throne of Odin.</p> -<p><i>Heimdaller</i>—guardian of the bridge Bifrost, or the -rainbow, by which the happy dead ascended into Asgard. He -received the souls who were selected by the Valkyries, and -conducted them to Odin.</p> -<p><i>Vile</i>—god of archery; son of Odin and Rinda.</p> -<h4>PART V.</h4> -<p><i>Brage</i>—god of music and song.</p> -<p><i>Hovamaal</i>—bible of Odin.</p> -<p><i>Odin</i>—a wise and virtuous warrior, whose -beneficence procured him among the early Scythians, -deification. As a divinity, the father of gods and men, he -is the husband of Frea (the earth), and from the union of divine -love and the earth, spring light, heat, the elements, the -seasons, strength, and genius, typified by Balder, Thor, Frey, -Hoder, and Balder again, as orator and poet. Odin, mounted -upon his horse Sleipner, represents active benevolence.</p> -<h2><a name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 267</span>THE -SPECTRE BARBER.</h2> -<blockquote><p>Sir Ryence of North Gales greeteth well thee,<br -/> -And bids thy beard anon to him send,<br /> -Or else from thy jaws he will it off -rend.—<i>Percy</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> formerly lived at Bremen, a -wealthy merchant named Melchior, of whom it was remarked that he -invariably stroked his chin with complacency whenever the subject -of the sermon was the rich man in the Gospel; who, by-the-bye, in -comparison with him, was only a petty retail dealer. This -said Melchior possessed such great riches, that he had caused the -floor of his dining-room to be paved with crown-pieces, which -ridiculous luxury gave great offence to his fellow-citizens and -relations. They attributed it to vanity and ostentation, -but did not guess its true motive; however, it perfectly answered -the end Melchior designed by it; for, by their constantly -expressing their disapprobation of this ostentatious species of -vanity, they spread abroad the report of their neighbour’s -immense riches, and thereby augmented his credit in a most -astonishing degree.</p> -<p>At length Melchior died suddenly, while at a corporation -dinner, and consequently had not time to make a disposition of -his property by will; so that his only son Francis, who was just -of age, came into possession of the whole. This young man -was particularly favoured by fortune, <a name="page268"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 268</span>both with respect to his personal -advantages and his goodness of heart; but his immense inheritance -caused his ruin. He had no sooner got into the possession -of so considerable a fortune, than he squandered it, as if it had -been a burthen to him; ran into every possible extravagance, and -neglected his concerns. Two or three years passed over -without his perceiving that, owing to his dissipations, his funds -were considerably reduced; but at length his coffers were -emptied: and one day, when Francis had drawn a draft to a very -considerable amount on his banker, who had no funds to meet it, -it was returned to him protested. This disappointment -greatly vexed our prodigal, but only as it caused a temporary -check to his wishes; for he did not even then give himself the -trouble to inquire into the reason of it. After swearing -and blustering for some time, he gave his steward a positive but -laconic order to <i>get money</i>.</p> -<p>All the brokers, money-changers, and usurers, were put in -requisition, and the empty coffers were soon filled; for the -dining-room floor was in the eyes of the lenders a sufficient -security.</p> -<p>This paliative had its effect for a time; but all at once a -report was spread abroad in the city that the celebrated silver -floor had been taken up: the consequence of which was, that the -lenders insisted on examining into and proving the fact, and then -became urgent for payment; but as Francis had not the means to -meet their demands, they seized on all his goods and chattels; -every thing was sold by auction, and he had nothing left -excepting a few jewels, which had formed part of his heritage, -and which might for a short time keep him from starving.</p> -<p><a name="page269"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 269</span>He -now took up his abode in a small street in one of the most remote -quarters of the city, where he lived on his straitened -means. He, however, accommodated himself to his situation; -but the only resource that he found against the <i>ennui</i> -which overpowered him was to play on the lute; and when fatigued -by this exercise, he used to stand at his window and make -observations on the weather; and his intelligent mind was not -long in discovering an object which soon entirely engrossed all -his thoughts.</p> -<p>Opposite his window there lived a respectable woman, who was -at her spinning wheel from morning till night, and by her -industry earned a subsistence for herself and her daughter. -Meta was a young girl of great beauty and attraction: she had -known happier times: for her father had been the proprietor of a -vessel freighted by himself, in which he annually made trading -voyages to Antwerp; but he, as well as the ship and all its -cargo, was lost in a violent storm. His widow sustained -this double loss with resignation and firmness, and resolved to -support herself and her daughter by her own industry. She -made over the house and furniture to the creditors of her -husband, and took up her abode in the little bye street where -Francis lodged, where, by her assiduity she acquired a -subsistence without laying herself under an obligation to any -one. She brought up her daughter to spinning and other -works, and lived with so much economy, that by her savings she -was enabled to set up a little trade in linen.</p> -<p>Mother Bridget (which was the appellation given to our widow,) -did not, however, calculate on terminating her existence in this -penurious <a name="page270"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -270</span>situation; and the hope of better prospects sustained -her courage. The beauty and excellent qualities of her -daughter, whom she brought up with every possible care and -attention, led her to think that some advantageous offer would -one day present itself. Meta lived tranquilly and lonely -with her mother, was never seen in any of the public walks, and -indeed never went out but to mass once a day.</p> -<p>One day, while Francis was making his metrological -observations at the window, he saw the beautiful Meta, who, under -her mother’s watchful eye, was returning from church. -The heart of Francis was as yet quite free: for the boisterous -pleasures of his past life did not leave him leisure for a true -affection; but at this time, when all his senses were calm, the -appearance of one of the most enchanting female forms he had ever -seen, ravished him, and he henceforth thought solely of the -adorable object which his eyes had thus discovered. He -questioned his landlord respecting the two females who lived in -the opposite house, and from him learned the particulars we have -just related.</p> -<p>He now regretted his want of economy, since his present -miserable state prevented him from making an offer to the -charming Meta. He was, however, constantly at the window, -in hopes of seeing her; and in that consisted his greatest -delight. The mother very soon discovered the frequent -appearance of her new neighbour at his window, and attributed it -to its right cause. In consequence, she rigorously enjoined -her daughter not to show herself at the windows, which were now -kept constantly shut.</p> -<p>Francis was not much versed in the arts of <a -name="page271"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 271</span>finesse, -but love awakened all the energies of his soul. He soon -discovered that if he appeared much at the window, his views -would be suspected; and he resolved therefore studiously to -refrain from coming near it. He determined, however, to -continue his observation of what occurred in the opposite -dwelling without being perceived. He accordingly purchased -a large mirror, and fixed it in his chamber in such a position -that it distinctly presented to his view what passed in the abode -of his opposite neighbour. Francis not being seen at the -window, the old lady relaxed in her rigour, and Meta’s -windows were once more opened. Love, more than ever, -reigned triumphant in the bosom of Francis; but how was he to -make known his attachment to its object? he could neither speak -nor write to her. Love, however, soon suggested a mode of -communication which succeeded. Our prodigal took his lute, -and drew from it tones the best adapted to express the subject of -his passion: and by perseverance, in less than a month he made a -wonderful progress. He soon had the gratification of seeing -the fair hand of Meta open the little casement, when he began to -tune his instrument. When she made her appearance, he -testified his joy by an air lively and gay; but if she did not -show herself, the melancholy softness of his tones discovered the -disappointment he experienced.</p> -<p>In the course of a short time, he created a great interest in -the bosom of his fair neighbour; and soon had reason to be -convinced that Meta shared a mutual attachment. She now -endeavoured to justify him, when her mother with acrimony spoke -of his prodigality and past misconduct, by attributing his ruin -to the effect of bad example. <a name="page272"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 272</span>But in so doing, she cautiously -avoided exciting the suspicions of the old lady; and seemed less -anxious to excuse him, than to take a part in the conversation -that was going on.</p> -<p>Circumstances, which our limits will not allow us to relate, -rendered the situation of Francis more and more difficult to be -supported; his funds had now nearly failed him; and an offer of -marriage from a wealthy brewer, who was called in the -neighbourhood the “King of Hops,” but which Meta, -much to her mother’s disappointment, refused, excited still -more the apprehensions of poor Francis, lest some more fortunate -suitor might yet be received and blast his hopes for ever.</p> -<p>When he received the information that this opulent lover had -been rejected for his sake, with what bitterness did he lament -his past follies.</p> -<p>“Generous girl,” said he, “you sacrifice -yourself for a miserable creature, who has nothing but a heart -fondly attached to you, and which is riven with despair that its -possessor cannot offer you the happiness you so truly -merit.”</p> -<p>The King of Hops soon found another female, who listened more -kindly to his vows, and whom he wedded with great splendour.</p> -<p>Love, however, did not leave his work incomplete; for its -influence created in the mind of Francis a desire of exerting his -faculties and actively employing himself, in order, if possible, -to emerge from the state of nothingness into which he was at -present plunged; and it inspired him also with courage to -prosecute his good intention. Among various projects which -he formed, the most rational appeared that of overlooking his -father’s books, taking an account of the claimable <a -name="page273"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 273</span>debts, and -from that source to get all he possibly could. The produce -of this procedure would, he thought, furnish him with the means -of beginning in some small way of business; and his imagination -led him to extend this to the most remote corners of the -earth. In order to equip himself for the prosecution of his -plans, he sold all the remainder of his father’s effects, -and with the money purchased a horse to begin his travels.</p> -<p>The idea of a separation from Meta was almost more than he -could endure. “What will she think,” said he, -“of this sudden disappearance, when she no longer meets me -in her way to church? Will she not think me perfidious, and -banish me from her heart?” Such ideas as these caused -him infinite pain; and for a long while he could not devise any -means of acquainting Meta with his plans; but at length the -fertile genius of love furnished him with the following -idea:—Francis went to the curate of the church which his -mistress daily frequented, and requested him, before the sermon -and during mass, to put up prayers for a happy issue to the -affairs of a young traveller; and these prayers were to be -continued till the moment of his return, when they were to be -changed into those of thanks.</p> -<p>Every thing being arranged for his departure, he mounted his -steed, and passed close under Meta’s window. He -saluted her with a very significant air, and with much less -caution than heretofore. The young girl blushed deeply; and -mother Bridget took this opportunity of loudly expressing her -dislike to this bold adventurer, whose impertinence and foppery -induced him to form designs on her daughter.</p> -<p>From this period the eyes of Meta in vain <a -name="page274"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 274</span>searched -for Francis. She constantly heard the prayer which was put -up for him; but was so entirely absorbed by grief at no longer -perceiving the object of her affection, that she paid no -attention to the words of the priest. In no way could she -account for his disappearing. Some months afterwards, her -grief being somewhat ameliorated and her mind more tranquillized, -when she was one day thinking of the last time she had seen -Francis, the prayer arrested her attention; she reflected for an -instant, and quickly divined for whom it was said; she naturally -joined in it with great fervour, and strongly recommended the -young traveller to the protection of her guardian angel.</p> -<p>Meanwhile Francis continued his journey, and had travelled the -whole of a very sultry day, over one of the desert cantons of -Westphalia without meeting with a single house. As night -approached, a violent storm came on: the rain fell in torrents; -and poor Francis was soaked to the very skin. In this -miserable situation he anxiously looked around, and fortunately -discovered in the distance a light, towards which he directed his -horse’s steps; but as he drew near, he beheld a miserable -cottage, which did not promise him much succour, for it more -resembled a stable than the habitation of a human being. -The unfeeling wretch who inhabited it, refused him fire or water, -as if he had been a banished man—he was just about to -extend himself on the straw in the midst of the cattle, and his -indolence prevented his lighting a fire for the stranger. -Francis vainly endeavoured to move the peasant to pity: the -latter was inexorable, and blew out his candle with the greatest -nonchalance possible, without bestowing a thought on -Francis. However, as the <a name="page275"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 275</span>traveller hindered him from -sleeping, by his incessant lamentations and prayers, he was -anxious to get rid of him.</p> -<p>“Friend,” said he to him, “if you wish to be -accommodated, I promise you it will not be here; but ride through -the little wood to your left hand, and you will find the castle -belonging to the chevalier Eberhard Bronkhorst, who is very -hospitable to travellers; but he has a singular mania, which is, -to flagellate all whom he entertains: therefore decide -accordingly.”</p> -<p>Francis, after considering for some minutes, resolved on -hazarding the adventure. “In good faith,” said -he, “there is no great difference between having -one’s back broken by the miserable accommodation of a -peasant, or by the chevalier Bronkhorst: friction disperses -fever; possibly its effects may prove beneficial to me, if I am -compelled to keep on my wet garments.”</p> -<p>Accordingly he put spurs to his horse, and very shortly found -himself before a gothic castle, at the iron gate of which he -loudly knocked, and was answered from within -by—“Who’s there?” But ere he was -allowed time to reply, the gate was opened. However, in the -first court he was compelled to wait with patience, till they -could learn whether it was the lord of the castle’s -pleasure to flagellate a traveller, or send him out to pass the -night under the canopy of heaven.</p> -<p>The lord of the castle had from his earliest infancy served in -the Imperial army, under the command of George of Funsberg, and -had himself led a company of infantry against the -Venetians. At length, however, fatigued with warfare, he -had retired to his own territory, where, in order to expiate the -crimes he had committed during the <a name="page276"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 276</span>several campaigns he had been in, he -did all the good and charitable acts in his power. But his -manner still retained all the roughness of his former -profession. The newly-arrived guest, although disposed to -submit to the usages of the house, for the sake of the good fare, -could not help feeling a certain trembling of fear as he heard -the bolts grating, ere the doors were opened to him; and which, -by their groaning noise, seemed to presage the catastrophe which -awaited him. A cold perspiration came over him as he passed -the last door; but finding that he received the utmost attention, -his fears a little abated. The servants assisted him in -getting off his horse, and unfastened his cloak-bag; some of them -led his horse to the stable, whilst others preceding him with -flambeaux, conducted him to their master, who awaited his arrival -in a room magnificently lighted up.</p> -<p>Poor Francis was seized with a universal tremor, when he -beheld the martial air and athletic form of the lord of the -castle, who came up to him and shook him by the hand with so much -force as nearly to make him cry out, and in a thundering voice, -enough to stun him, told him he was welcome. Francis -trembled like an aspen leaf in every part of his body.</p> -<p>“What ails you, my young comrade?” cried the -chevalier Bronkhorst; “what makes you thus tremble, and -render you as pale as if death had actually seized you in the -throat?”</p> -<p>Francis recovered himself; and knowing that his shoulders -would pay his reckoning, his fears gave place to a species of -audacity.</p> -<p>“My lord,” answered he with confidence, “you -see that I am so soaked with rain that one might suppose I had -swam through the Wezer; order <a name="page277"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 277</span>me therefore some dry clothes -instead of these I have on, and let us then drink a cup of hot -wine, that I may, if possible, prevent the fever, which otherwise -may probably seize me. It will comfort my heart.”</p> -<p>“Admirable!” replied the chevalier; “ask for -whatever you want, and consider yourself here as at -home.”</p> -<p>Accordingly Francis gave his orders like a baron of high -degree: he sent away the wet clothes, made choice of others, and, -in fine, made himself quite at his ease. The chevalier, so -far from expressing any dissatisfaction at his free and easy -manners, commanded his people to execute whatever he ordered with -promptitude, and condemned some of them as blockheads, who did -not appear to know how to wait on a stranger. As soon as -the table was spread, the chevalier seated himself at it with his -guest; and they drank a cup of hot wine together.</p> -<p>“Do you wish for any thing to eat?” demanded the -lord.</p> -<p>Francis desired he would order up what his house afforded, -that he might see whether his kitchen was good.</p> -<p>No sooner had he said this, than the steward made his -appearance, and furnished up a most delicious repast, Francis did -not wait for his being requested to partake of it: but after -having made a hearty meal, he said to the lord of the castle, -“Your kitchen is by no means despicable; if your cellar is -correspondent, I cannot but say you treat your guests -nobly.”</p> -<p>The chevalier made a sign to his butler, who brought up some -inferior wine, and filled a large <a name="page278"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 278</span>glass to his master, who drank to -his guest. Francis instantly returned the compliment.</p> -<p>“Well, young man, what say you to my wine?” asked -the chevalier.</p> -<p>“‘Faith,” replied Francis, “I say it -is bad, if it is the best you have in your cellar; but if you -have none worse, I do not condemn it.”</p> -<p>“You are a connoisseur;” answered the -chevalier. “Butler, bring us a flask of older -wine.”</p> -<p>His orders being instantly attended to, Francis tasted -it. “This is indeed some good old wine, and we will -stick to it if you please.”</p> -<p>The servants brought in a great pitcher of it, and the -chevalier, being in high good-humour, drank freely with his -guest; and then launched out into a long history of his several -feats of prowess in the war against the Venetians. He -became so overheated by the recital, that in his enthusiasm he -overturned the bottles and glasses, and flourishing his knife as -if it were a sword, passed it so near the nose and ears of -Francis, that he dreaded he should lose them in the action.</p> -<p>Though the night wore away, the chevalier did not manifest any -desire to sleep; for he was quite in his elements, whenever he -got on the topic of the Venetian war. Each succeeding glass -added to the heat of his imagination as he proceeded in his -narration, till at length Francis began to apprehend that it was -the prologue to the tragedy in which he was to play the principal -part; and feeling anxious to learn whether he was to pass the -night in the castle, or be turned out, he asked for a last glass -of wine to enable him to sleep well. He feared that they -would commence by filling him with wine, and that if he did not -consent to continue drinking, a pretext would be laid hold <a -name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 279</span>of for -driving him out of the castle with the usual chastisement.</p> -<p>However, contrary to his expectation, the lord of the castle -broke the thread of his narration, and said to -him:—“Good friend, every thing in its place; -to-morrow we will resume our discourse.”</p> -<p>“Excuse me, sir knight,” replied Francis; -“to-morrow, before sun-rise, I shall be on my road. -The distance from hence to Brabant is very considerable, and I -cannot tarry here longer, therefore permit me to take leave of -you now, that I may not disturb you in the morning.”</p> -<p>“Just as you please about that; but you will not leave -the castle before I am up; we will breakfast together, and I -shall accompany you to the outer gate, and take leave of you -according to my usual custom.”</p> -<p>Francis needed no comment to render these words -intelligible. Most willingly would he have dispensed with -the chevalier’s company to the gate; but the latter did not -appear at all inclined to deviate from his established -usage. He ordered his servant to assist the stranger in -undressing, and to take care of him till he was in bed.</p> -<p>Francis found his bed an excellent one; and ere he went to -sleep, he owned that so handsome a reception could not be dearly -bought at the expense of a trifling beating. The most -delightful dreams (in which Meta bore the sway) occupied him the -whole night; and he would have gone on (thus dreaming) till -mid-day, if the sonorous voice of the chevalier and the clanking -of the spurs had not disturbed him.</p> -<p>It needed all Francis’s efforts to quit this delightful -bed, in which he was so comfortable, and <a -name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 280</span>where he -knew himself to be in safety; he turned from side to side; but -the chevalier’s tremendous voice was like a death-stroke to -him, and at length he resolved to get up. Several servants -assisted him in dressing, and the chevalier waited for him at a -small, but well-served table; but Francis, knowing the moment of -trial was at hand, had no great inclination to feast. The -chevalier tried to persuade him to eat, telling him it was the -best thing to keep out the fog and the damp of the morning.</p> -<p>“Sir knight,” replied Francis, “my stomach -is still loaded from your excellent supper of last evening; but -my pockets are empty, and I should much like to fill them, in -order to provide against future wants.”</p> -<p>The chevalier evinced his pleasure at his frankness by filling -his pockets with as much as they could contain. As soon as -they brought him his horse, which he discovered had been well -groomed and fed, he drank the last glass of wine to say Adieu, -expecting that at that signal the chevalier would take him by the -collar and make him pay his welcome. But, to his no small -surprise, the chevalier contented himself with heartily shaking -him by the hand as on his arrival; and as soon as the gate was -opened, Francis rode off safe and sound.</p> -<p>In no way could our traveller account for his host permitting -him thus to depart without paying the usual score. At -length he began to imagine that the peasant had simply told him -the story to frighten him; and feeling a curiosity to know -whether or not it had any foundation in fact, he rode back to the -castle. The chevalier had not yet quitted the gate, and was -conversing <a name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -281</span>with the servants on the pace of Francis’s horse, -who appeared to trot very roughly; and seeing the traveller -return, he supposed that he had forgotten something, and by his -looks seemed to accuse his servants of negligence.</p> -<p>“What do you want, young man?” demanded he: -“Why do you, who were so much pressed for time, -return?”</p> -<p>“Allow me, most noble sir,” replied Francis, -“to ask you one question: It is said, that, after having -hospitably received and entertained strangers, you make them at -their departure feel the weight of your arm. And although I -gave credence to this rumour, I have omitted nothing which might -have entitled me to this mark of your favour. But, strange -to say, you have permitted me to depart in peace, without even -the slightest mark of your strength. You see my surprise; -therefore do pray inform me whether there is any foundation to -the report, or whether I shall chastise the impudent story-teller -who related the false tale to me.”</p> -<p>“Young man,” replied Bronkhorst, “you have -heard nothing but the truth; but it needs some -explanations. I open my door hospitably to every stranger, -and in Christian charity I give them a place at my table; but I -am a man who hates form or disguise: I say all I think, and only -wish in return that my guests would openly and undisguisedly ask -for all they want. There are unfortunately, however, a -tribe of people, who fatigue by their mean complaisance and -ceremony, who wear me out by their dissimulation, and stun me by -propositions devoid of sense, or who do not conduct themselves -with decency during the feast. Gracious heavens! I lose all -patience when they <a name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -282</span>carry their fooleries to such excess, and I exert my -right as master of the castle, by taking hold of their collars, -and giving them a tolerably severe chastisement ere I turn them -out of my gates.—But a man of your sort, my young friend, -will ever be welcome under my roof; for you boldly and openly ask -for what you require, and say what you think; and such are the -persons I admire. If in your way back you pass through this -canton, promise me you will pay me another visit. Good -bye. Let me caution you never to place implicit confidence -in any thing you hear; believe only that there may be a single -grain of truth in the whole story; be always frank, and you will -succeed through life.—Heaven’s blessings attend -you.”</p> -<p>Francis continued his journey towards Anvers most gaily, -wishing as he went, that he might every where meet with as good a -reception as at the chevalier Bronkhorst’s.</p> -<p>Nothing remarkable occurred during the rest of his journey, -and he entered the city full of the most sanguine hopes and -expectations. In every street his fancied riches stared him -in the face. “It appears to me,” said he, -“that some of my father’s debtors must have succeeded -in business, and that they will only require my presence, to -repay their debts with honour.”</p> -<p>After having rested from the fatigue of his journey, he made -himself acquainted with every particular relative to the debtors, -and learnt that the greater part had become rich, and were doing -extremely well. This intelligence re-animated his hopes; he -arranged his papers, and paid a visit to each of the persons who -owed him any thing. But his success was by no means equal -to <a name="page283"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 283</span>what -he had expected; some of the debtors pretended that they had paid -every thing; others that they had never heard mention of Melchior -of Bremen; and the rest produced accounts precisely contradictory -to those he had, and which tended to prove they were creditors -instead of debtors. In fine, ere three days had elapsed, -Francis found himself in the debtor’s prison, from whence -he stood no chance of being released till he had paid the -uttermost farthing of his father’s debts.</p> -<p>How pitiable was this young man’s condition! Even -the horrors of the prison were augmented by the remembrance of -Meta:—nay, to such a pitch of desperation was he carried, -that he resolved to starve himself. Fortunately, however, -at twenty-seven years of age such determinations are more easily -formed, than practised.</p> -<p>The intention of those who put him into confinement was not -merely with a view of exacting payment of his pretended debts, -but to avoid paying him his due; so, whether the prayers put up -for poor Francis at Bremeu were effectual, or that the pretended -creditors were not disposed to maintain him during his life, I -know not; but after a detention of three months, they liberated -Francis from prison, with a particular injunction to quit the -territories of Anvers within four-and-twenty hours, and never to -set his foot within that city again:—They gave him at the -same time five florins to defray his expenses on the road. -As one may well imagine his horse and baggage had been sold to -defray the costs incident to the proceedings.</p> -<p>With a heart overloaded with grief he quitted Anvers, in a -very different frame of mind to what <a name="page284"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 284</span>he experienced at entering it. -Discouraged and irresolute, he mechanically followed the road -which chance directed; he paid no attention to the various -travellers, nor indeed to any object on the road, till hunger or -thirst caused him to lift up his eyes to discover a steeple or -some other token announcing the habitation of human beings. -In this state of mind did he continue journeying on for several -days incessantly; nevertheless, a secret instinct impelled him to -take the road leading to his own country.</p> -<p>All on a sudden he roused, as if from a profound sleep, and -recollected the place in which he was: he stopped an instant to -consider whether he should continue the road he was then in, or -return: “For,” said he, “what a shame to return -to my native city a beggar!” How could he thus return -to that city in which he formerly felt equal to the richest of -its inhabitants? How could he as a beggar present himself -before Meta, without causing her to blush for the choice she had -made? He did not allow time for his imagination to complete -this miserable picture, for he instantly turned back, as if -already he had found himself before the gates of Bremen, followed -by the shouts of the children. His mind was soon made up as -to what he should do; he resolved to go to one of the ports of -the Low Countries, there to engage himself as a sailor on board -of a Spanish vessel, to go to the newly-discovered world; and not -to return to his native country till he had amassed as much -wealth as he had formerly so thoughtlessly squandered. In -the whole of this project, Meta was only thought of at an -immeasurable distance; but Francis contented himself with -connecting her in idea with his future plans, and <a -name="page285"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 285</span>walked, or -rather strode along, as if by hurrying his pace he should sooner -gain possession of her.</p> -<p>Having thus attained the frontiers of the Low Countries, he -arrived at sun-set in a village situated near Rheinburg; but -since entirely destroyed in the thirty years’ war. A -caravan of carriers from Liege filled the inn so entirely, that -the landlord told Francis he could not give him a lodging; -adding, that at the adjoining village he would find -accommodations.—Possibly he was actuated to this refusal by -Francis’s appearance, who certainly, in point of garb, -might well be mistaken for a vagabond.</p> -<p>The landlord took him for a spy to a band of thieves, sent -probably to rob carriers; so that poor Francis, in spite of his -extreme lassitude, was compelled, with his wallet at his back, to -proceed on his road; and having at his departure, muttered -through his teeth some maledictions against the cruel and -unfeeling landlord, the latter appeared touched with compassion -for the stranger, and from the door of the inn called after him: -“Young man—a word with you! If you resolve on -passing the night here, I will procure you a lodging in that -castle you now see on the hill; there you will find rooms in -abundance, provided you are not afraid of being alone, for it is -uninhabited. See, here are the keys belonging to -it.”</p> -<p>Francis joyfully accepted the landlord’s proposition, -and thanked him for it as if it had been an act of great -charity.</p> -<p>“It is to me a matter of little moment where I pass the -night, provided I am at my ease, and have something to -eat.” But the landlord was an ill-tempered fellow, -and wishing to revenge <a name="page286"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 286</span>the invectives Francis had poured -forth against him, he sent him to the castle, in order that he -might be tormented by the spirits which were said to frequent -it.</p> -<p>This castle was situated on a steep rock, and was only -separated from the village by the high road and a little -rivulet. Its delightful prospects caused it to be kept in -good repair, and to be well furnished, as its owner made use of -it as a hunting seat; quitting it, however, every night, in order -to avoid the apparitions and ghosts which haunted it.</p> -<p>When it was quite dark, Francis, with a lantern in his hand, -proceeded towards the castle. The landlord accompanied him, -and carried a little basket of provisions, to which he added a -bottle of wine (which he said would stand the test,) as well as -two candles and two wax-tapers for the night. Francis, not -thinking he should require so many things, and being apprehensive -he should have to pay for them, asked why they were all -brought.</p> -<p>“The light from my lantern,” said he, “will -suffice me till the time of my getting into bed; and ere I shall -get out of it, the sun will have risen, for I am worn out with -fatigue.”</p> -<p>“I will not endeavour to conceal from you,” -replied the landlord, “that according to the current -reports, this castle is haunted by evil spirits; but do not let -that frighten you; you see I live sufficiently near, that, in -case any thing extraordinary should happen to you, I shall hear -you call, and shall be in readiness with my people to render you -any assistance. At my house there is somebody stirring all -night, and there is also some one constantly on the watch. -I have lived on <a name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -287</span>this spot for thirty years, and cannot say that I have -seen any thing to alarm me; indeed I believe that you may with -safety attribute any noises you hear during the night in this -castle, to cats and weasels, with which the granaries are -overrun. I have only provided you with the means of keeping -up a light in a case of need, for, at best, night is but a gloomy -season; and, in addition, these candles are consecrated, and -their light will undoubtedly keep off any evil spirits, should -there be such in the castle.”</p> -<p>The landlord spoke only the truth, when he said he never had -the courage to set his foot within its doors after dark; and -though he now spoke so courageously, the rogue would not have -ventured on any account to enter. After having opened the -door, he gave the basket to Francis, pointed out the way he was -to turn, and wished him good night; while the latter, fully -satisfied that the story of ghosts must be fabulous, gaily -entered. He recollected all that had been told him to the -prejudice of the Chevalier Bronkhorst, but unfortunately forgot -what that brave Castelian had recommended to him at parting, -“always to believe there was some truth in what he might -hear.”</p> -<p>Conformably to the landlord’s instructions, he went up -stairs, and came to a door, which the key in his possession soon -unlocked; it opened into a long dark gallery, where his very -steps re-echoed; the gallery led to a large hall, from which -issued a suite of apartments, furnished in a costly manner: he -surveyed them all, and made choice of one in which to pass the -night, that appeared more lively than the rest. The windows -looked to the high road, and every thing that passed in <a -name="page288"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 288</span>front of -the inn could be distinctly heard. He lighted two candles, -spread the cloth, ate very heartily, and felt completely at his -ease, so long as he was thus employed; for while eating, no -thought or apprehension of spirits molested him; but he no sooner -arose from the table, than he began to feel a sensation strongly -resembling fear.</p> -<p>In order to render himself more secure, he locked the door, -drew the bolts, and then looked out from each window. Every -thing along the high road and in front of the inn was tranquil, -where, contrary to the landlord’s assertions, not a single -light was discernible. The sound of the horn belonging to -the night-guard was the only thing that interrupted the silence -which universally prevailed.</p> -<p>Francis closed the windows, once looked round the room, and -after snuffing the candles, that they might burn the better, he -threw himself on the bed, which he found good and comfortable; -but although greatly fatigued, he could not get to sleep so soon -as he had hoped. A slight palpitation of the heart, which -he attributed to the agitation produced by the heat of his -fatiguing journey, kept him awake for a considerable time, till -at length sleep came to his aid. After having, as he -imagined, been asleep somewhat above an hour, he awoke and -started up in a state of horror, possibly not unusual to a person -whose blood is over-heated; this idea in some degree allayed his -apprehensions, and he listened attentively, but could hear -nothing excepting the clock, which struck the hour of -midnight. Again he listened for an instant, and turning on -his side, he was just going off to sleep, when he thought he -heard a distant door grinding on its hinges, <a -name="page289"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 289</span>and then -shut with a heavy noise. In an instant the idea of the -ghost approaching caused him no little fear; but he speedily got -the better of his alarm, by fancying it was only the wind; -however, he could not comfort himself long with this belief, for -the sound approached nearer and nearer, and resembled the -clanking of chains, or the rattling of a bunch of keys.</p> -<p>The terror which Francis experienced was beyond all -description, and he put his head under the clothes. The -doors continued to open with a frightful noise, and at last he -heard some one trying different keys at the door of his room; one -of them seemed perfectly to fit the lock, but the bolts kept the -door fast, however, a violent shock like a clap of thunder caused -them to give way, and in stalked a tall thin figure, with a black -beard, whose appearance was indicative of chagrin and -melancholy. He was habited in the antique style, and on his -left shoulder wore a red cloak or mantle, while his head was -covered with a high-crowned hat. Three times with slow and -measured steps he walked round the room, examined the consecrated -candles and snuffed them: he then threw off his cloak, unfolded a -shaving apparatus, and took from it the razors, which he -sharpened on a large leather strap hanging to the belt.</p> -<p>No powers are adequate to describe the agonies Francis -endured: he recommended himself to the Virgin Mary, and -endeavoured, as well as his fears would permit, to form an idea -of the spectre’s designs on him. Whether he purposed -to cut his throat, or only take off his beard, he was at a loss -to determine. The poor traveller was a little more -composed, when he saw the <a name="page290"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 290</span>spectre take out a silver shaving -pot, and in a bason of the same metal put some water; after which -he made a lather, and placed a chair. But a cold -perspiration came over Francis, when the spectre with a grave -air, made signs for him to sit in that chair.</p> -<p>He knew it was useless to resist this mandate, which was but -too plainly given; and thinking it most prudent to make a virtue -of necessity, and to put a good face on the matter, Francis -obeyed the order, jumped nimbly out of bed, and seated himself as -directed.</p> -<p>The spirit placed the shaving-bib round his neck; then taking -a comb and scissors, cut off his hair and whiskers; after which -he lathered, according to rule, his beard, his eye-brows, and -head, and shaved them all off completely from his chin to the -nape of his neck. This operation ended, he washed his head, -wiped and dried it very nicely, made him a low bow, folded up his -case, put his cloak on his shoulder, and made towards the door to -go away.</p> -<p>The consecrated candles had burnt most brilliantly during this -operation; and by their clear light Francis discovered, on -looking into the glass, that he had not a single hair remaining -on his head. Most bitterly did he deplore the loss of his -beautiful brown hair; but he regained courage on remarking, that, -however great the sacrifice, all was now over, and that the -spirit had no more power over him.</p> -<p>In effect, the ghost walked towards the door with as grave an -air as he had entered; but after going a few steps, he stopped, -looked at Francis, with a mournful air, and stroked his -beard. He three times repeated this action; and was on the -<a name="page291"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 291</span>point of -quitting the room, when Francis imagined he wanted -something. With great quickness of thought he imagined it -might be that he wished him to perform a like service for him to -that which he had just been executing on himself.</p> -<p>As the spectre, spite of his woe-begone aspect, appeared more -inclined to raillery than gravity, and as his proceedings towards -Francis appeared more of a species of frolic than absolute -ill-treatment, the latter no longer appeared to entertain any -apprehension of him; and in consequence determined to hazard the -adventure. He therefore beckoned the phantom to seat -himself in the chair. It instantly returned and obeyed; -taking off its cloak, and unfolding the case, placed it on the -table, and seated itself in the chair, in the attitude of one -about to be shaved. Francis imitated precisely all he had -seen it do: he cut off its hair and whiskers, and then lathered -its head. The spirit did not move an inch. Our -barber’s apprentice did not handle the razor very -dexterously; so that having taken hold of the ghost’s beard -against the grain, the latter made a horrible grimace. -Francis did not feel much assured by this action; however, he got -through the job as well as he could, and rendered the -ghost’s head as bald as his own.</p> -<p>Hitherto the scene between the two performers had passed in -profound silence: but on a sudden it was interrupted by the ghost -exclaiming, with a smiling countenance—“Stranger, I -heartily thank you for the eminent service you have rendered me; -for to you I am indebted for deliverance from my long -captivity. During the space of three hundred years I have -been immersed within these walls, and my soul has been condemned -<a name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 292</span>to -submit to this chastisement as a punishment for my crimes, until -some living being had the courage to exercise retaliation on me, -by doing to me what I have done by others during my life.</p> -<p>“Count Hartmann formerly resided in this castle; he was -a man who recognised no law nor superior; was of an arrogant and -overbearing disposition; committed every species of wickedness, -and violated the most sacred rights of hospitality; he played all -sorts of malicious tricks to strangers who sought refuge under -his roof, and to the poor who solicited his charity. I was -his barber, and did every thing to please him. No sooner -did I perceive a pious pilgrim, than in an endearing tone I urged -him to come into the castle, and prepared a bath for him; and -while he was enjoying the idea of being taken care of, I shaved -his beard and head quite close, and then turned him out of the -bye door with raillery and ridicule. All this was seen by -Count Hartmann from his window with a sort of devilish pleasure, -while the children would assemble round the abused stranger and -pursue him with cries of derision.</p> -<p>“One day there came a holy man from a far distant -country: he wore a plenipotentiary cross at his back, and his -devotion had imprinted scars on his feet, hands, and sides; his -head was shaved, excepting a circle of hair, left to resemble the -crown of thorns worn by our Saviour. He asked for some -water to wash his feet as he passed by, and some bread to -eat. I instantly put him into the bath; but did not respect -even his venerable head. Upon which the pilgrim pronounced -this terrible curse on me.—‘Depraved wretch,’ -said <a name="page293"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 293</span>he, -‘know that at your death, the formidable gates of heaven, -of hell, and of purgatory, will alike be closed against your -sinful soul, which shall wander through this castle, in the form -of a ghost, until some man, without being invited or constrained, -shall do to you, what you have so long done to others.’</p> -<p>“From that moment the marrow in my bones dried up, and I -became a perfect shadow; my soul quitted my emaciated body, which -remained wandering within these walls, according to the -prediction of the holy man. In vain did I look and hope for -release from the painful ties which held me to earth; for know -that no sooner is the soul separated from the body, than it -aspires to the blissful regions of peace, and the ardour of its -wishes causes years to appear as long as centuries, while it -languishes in a strange element. As a punishment, I was -compelled to continue the trade I had exercised during my life; -but, alas! my nocturnal appearance soon rendered this castle -deserted. Now and then a poor pilgrim entered to pass the -night here: when they did, however, I treated them all as I have -done you; but not one has understood me, or rendered me the only -service which would deliver my soul from this sad servitude; -henceforth, no spirit will haunt this castle, for I shall now -enjoy that repose of which I have been so long in search. -Once again let me thank you, gallant youth; and believe, that had -I power over the hidden treasures of the globe, I would give them -all to you, but unfortunately, during my life riches did not fall -to my lot, and this castle contains no store; however, listen to -the advice I am about to give you.</p> -<p><a name="page294"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -294</span>“Remain here till your hair is grown again; then -return to your own country; and at that period of the year when -the days and nights are of equal length, go on the bridge which -crosses the Weser, and there remain till a friend, whom you shall -there meet, shall tell you what you ought to do to get possession -of terrestrial wealth. When you are rolling in riches and -prosperity, remember me; and on every anniversary of the day on -which you released me from the heavy maledictions which -overwhelmed me, cause a mass to be said for the repose of my -soul. Adieu! I must now leave you.”</p> -<p>Thus saying, the phantom vanished, and left his liberator -perfectly astonished at the strange history he had just -related. For a considerable time Francis remained -immoveable, and reasoned within himself as to the reality of what -he had seen; for he could not help fancying still that it was -only a dream; but his closely shaved head soon convinced him that -the event had actually taken place. He got into bed again, -and slept soundly until mid-day.</p> -<p>The malicious inn-keeper had been on the watch from the dawn -of day for the appearance of the traveller, in order that he -might enjoy a laugh at his expense, and express his surprise at -the night’s adventure. But after waiting till his -patience was nearly exhausted, and finding it approached to noon, -he began to apprehend that the spirit had either strangled the -stranger, or that he had died of fright. He therefore -called his servants together, and ran with them to the castle, -passing through every room till they reached the one in which he -had observed the light the over-night; there he found a strange -key in the door, which <a name="page295"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 295</span>was still bolted; for Francis had -drawn the bolts after the ghost had vanished. The landlord, -who was all anxiety, knocked loudly; and Francis on waking, at -first thought that it was the phantom come to pay him another -visit; but at length recognising the landlord’s voice, he -got up and opened the door.</p> -<p>The landlord, affecting the utmost possible astonishment, -clasped his hands, and exclaimed, “Great God and all the -saints! then the red cloak has actually been here and shaved you -completely? I now see that the story is but too well -founded. But pray relate to me all the particulars; tell me -what the spirit was like; how he came thus to shave you; and what -he said to you?”</p> -<p>Francis, having sense enough to discover his roguery, answered -him by saying: “The spirit resembled a man wearing a red -cloak; you know full well how he performed the operation; and his -conversation I perfectly remember;—listen -attentively:—‘Stranger,’ said he to me, -‘do not trust to a certain inn-keeper, who has a figure of -malice for his sign; the rogue well knew what would happen to -you.—Adieu! I now quit this abode, as my time is come; and -in future no spirit will make its appearance here. I am now -to be transformed into a night-mare, and shall constantly torment -and haunt this said inn-keeper, unless he does penance for his -villainy, by lodging, feeding, and furnishing you with every -thing needful, till your hair shall grow again, and fall in -ringlets over your shoulders.”</p> -<p>At these words, the landlord was seized with a violent -trembling: he crossed himself and vowed to the Virgin Mary, that -he would take care of the young stranger, lodge him, and give him -every <a name="page296"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -296</span>thing he required free of cost. He then conducted -him to his house, and faithfully fulfilled what he promised.</p> -<p>The spirit being no longer heard or seen, Francis was -naturally looked on as a conjurer. He several times passed -a night in the castle; and one evening a courageous villager -accompanied him, and returned without having lost his hair. -The lord of the castle, hearing that the formidable Red Cloak was -no longer to be seen, was quite delighted; and gave orders that -the stranger who had delivered him from this spirit should be -well taken care of.</p> -<p>Early in the month of September, Francis’s hair began to -form into ringlets, and he prepared to depart; for all his -thoughts were directed towards the bridge over the Weser, where -he hoped, according to the barber’s predictions, to find -the friend who would point out to him the way to make his -fortune.</p> -<p>When Francis took leave of the landlord, the latter presented -him with a handsome horse well appointed, and loaded with a large -cloak-bag on the back of the saddle, and gave him at the same -time a sufficient sum of money to complete his journey. -This was a present from the lord of the castle, expressive of his -thanks for having his castle again rendered habitable.</p> -<p>Francis arrived at his native place in high spirits. He -returned to his lodging in the little street, where he lived very -retired, contenting himself for the present with secret -information respecting Meta. All the tidings he thus gained -were of a satisfactory nature; but he would neither visit her, -nor make her acquainted with his return, till his fate was -decided.</p> -<p><a name="page297"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 297</span>He -waited with the utmost impatience for the equinox; till which, -time seemed immeasurably long. The night preceding the -eventful day, he could not close his eyes to sleep; and that he -might be sure of not missing the friend with whom he was as yet -unacquainted, he took his station ere sun-rise on the bridge, -where no human being but himself was to be discovered. -Replete with hopes of future good fortune, he formed a thousand -projects in what way he should spend his money.</p> -<p>Already had he during the space of an hour, traversed the -bridge alone, giving full scope to his imagination; when on a -sudden the bridge presented a moving scene, and amongst others, -many beggars took their several stations on it, to levy -contributions on the passengers. The first of this tribe -who asked charity of Francis was a poor vagabond with a wooden -leg, who, being a pretty good physiognomist, judged from the gay -and contented air of the young man, that his request would be -crowned with success; and his conjecture was not erroneous, for -he threw a demi-florin into his hat.</p> -<p>Francis, meanwhile, feeling persuaded that the friend he -expected must belong to the highest class of society, felt no -surprise at not seeing him at so early an hour, and waited -therefore with patience. But as the hour for visiting the -Exchange and Courts of Justice drew near, his eyes were in -constant motion. He discovered at an immense distance every -well-dressed person who came on the bridge, and his blood was in -a perfect ferment as each approached him, for in some one of them -did he hope to discover the author of his good fortune; but in -vain he looked people <a name="page298"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 298</span>in the face, no one paid attention -to him. The beggars, who at noon were seated on the ground -eating their dinner, remarking that the young man they had seen -from the first of the morning, was the only person remaining with -them on the bridge, and that he had not spoken to any one, or -appeared to have any employment, took him for a lazy vagabond; -and although they had received marks of his beneficence, they -began to make game of him, and in derision called him the provost -of the bridge. The physiognomist with the wooden leg -observed, that his air was no longer so gay as in the morning, -and that having drawn his hat over his face, he appeared entirely -lost in thought, for he walked slowly along, nibbling an apple, -with an abstracted air. The observer, resolving to benefit -by what he had remarked, went to the further extremity of the -bridge, and after well examining the visionary, came up to him as -a stranger, asked his charity, and succeeded to his utmost wish; -for Francis, without turning round his head, gave him another -demi-florin.</p> -<p>In the afternoon, a crowd of new faces presented themselves to -Francis’s observation, while he became quite weary at his -friend’s tardiness; but hope still kept up his -attention. However, the fast declining sun gave notice of -the approach of night, and yet scarcely any of the passers-by had -noticed Francis. Some few, perhaps, had returned his -salutation, but not one had, as he expected and hoped, embraced -him. At length, the day so visibly declined, that the -bridge became nearly deserted; for even the beggars went -away. A profound melancholy seized the heart of poor -Francis, when he found his hopes thus deceived; <a -name="page299"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 299</span>and giving -way to despair, he would have precipitated himself into the -Weser, had not the recollection of Meta deterred him. He -felt anxious, ere he terminated his days in so tragical a manner, -to see her once again as she went to mass, and feast on the -contemplation of her features.</p> -<p>He was preparing to quit the bridge, when the beggar with the -wooden leg accosted him, for he had in vain puzzled his brain to -discover what could possibly have caused the young man to remain -on the bridge from morning till night. The poor cripple had -waited longer than usual on account of Francis, in order to see -when he went; but as he remained longer than he wished, curiosity -at length induced him openly to address him, in order to learn -what he so ardently desired to know.</p> -<p>“Pray excuse me, worthy sir,” said he: “and -permit me to ask you a question.”</p> -<p>Francis, who was by no means in a mood to talk, and who now -heard from the mouth of a beggar the words which he had so -anxiously expected from a friend, answered him in rather an angry -tone: “Well then, what is it you want to know, old -man?”</p> -<p>“Sir, you and I were the first persons on this bridge -to-day; and here we are still the only remaining two. As -for me and my companions, it is pretty clear that we only came to -ask alms; but it is equally evident you do not belong to our -profession, and yet you have not quitted the bridge the whole -day. My dear sir, for the love of God, if it is no secret, -tell me, I entreat you, for what purpose you came, and what is -the grief that rends your heart?”</p> -<p><a name="page300"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -300</span>“What can it concern you, old dotard, to know -where the shoe pinches me, or what afflictions I am labouring -under?”</p> -<p>“My good sir, I wish you well: you have twice bestowed -your charity on me, which I hope the Almighty will return to you -with interest. I could not but observe, however, this -evening your countenance no longer looked gay and happy as in the -morning; and, believe me, I was sorry to see the -change.”</p> -<p>The unaffected interest evinced by the old man pleased -Francis. “Well,” replied he, “since you -attach so much importance to the knowledge of the reason I have -for remaining the whole day here plaguing myself, I will inform -you that I came here in search of a friend who appointed to meet -me on this bridge, but whom I have expected in vain.”</p> -<p>“With your permission I should say your friend was a -rogue, to play the fool with you in this manner. If he had -so served me, I should make him feel the weight of my crutch -whenever I met him; for if he has been prevented from keeping his -word by any unseen obstacle, he ought at least to have sent to -you, and not have kept you here on your feet a whole -day.”</p> -<p>“And yet I have no reason to complain of his not coming, -for he promised me nothing. In fact it was only a dream -that I was told I should meet a friend here.”</p> -<p>Francis spoke of it as a dream, because the history of the -ghost was too long to relate.</p> -<p>“That alters the case,” replied the old man. -“Since you rest your hopes on dreams, I am not astonished -at your being deceived. I have also had many dreams in my -life; but I was never <a name="page301"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 301</span>fool enough to pay attention to -them. If I had all the treasures that have been promised me -in dreams, I could purchase the whole city of Bremen; but I have -never put faith in dreams, and have not taken a single step to -prove whether they were true or false; for I know full well, it -would be useless trouble; and I am astonished that you should -have lost so fine a day, which you might have employed so much -more usefully, merely on the strength of a dream, which appears -to me so wholly devoid of sense or meaning.”</p> -<p>“The event proves the justness of your remark, old -father; and that dreams generally are deceitful. But it is -rather more than three months since I had a very circumstantial -dream relative to my meeting a friend on this particular day, -here on this bridge; and it was so clearly indicated that he -should communicate things of the utmost importance, that I -thought it worth while to ascertain whether this dream had any -foundation in truth.”</p> -<p>“Ah, sir, no one has had clearer dreams than myself; and -one of them I shall never forget. I dreamt, several years -since, that my good angel stood at the foot of my bed, in the -form of a young man, and addressed me as -follows:—‘Berthold, listen attentively to my words, -and do not lose any part of what I am about to say. A -treasure is allotted to you; go and secure it, that you may be -enabled to live happily the rest of your days. To-morrow -evening, when the sun is setting, take a pick-axe and spade over -your shoulder, and go out of the city by the gate leading to -Hamburgh; when you arrive facing the convent of St. Nicholas, you -will see a garden, the entrance to which is ornamented by two -pillars; <a name="page302"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -302</span>conceal yourself behind one of these until the moon -rises; then push the door hard, and it will yield to your -efforts; go without fear into the garden, follow a walk covered -by a treillage of vines, and to the left you will see a great -apple-tree; place yourself at the foot of the tree, with your -face turned towards the moon, and you will perceive at fifteen -feet distance, two bushy rose-trees; search between these two -shrubs, and at the depth of about six feet you will discover a -great flag-stone, which covers the treasure enclosed within an -iron chest; and although it is heavy and difficult to handle, do -not regret the labour it will occasion you to remove it from the -hole where it now is. You will be well rewarded for your -pains and trouble, if you look for the key which is under the -box.’”</p> -<p>Francis remained like one stupified at this recital; and -certainly would have been unable to conceal his astonishment, if -the darkness of the night had not favoured him. The various -particulars pointed out by the beggar brought to his recollection -a little garden which he had inherited from his father, and which -garden was the favourite spot of that good man; but possibly for -that very reason it was not held in estimation by the son. -Melchior had caused it to be laid out according to his own taste, -and his son in the height of his extravagance had sold it at a -very low price.</p> -<p>The beggar with his wooden leg was become a very interesting -personage to Francis, who perceived that he was the friend -alluded to by the ghost in the castle of Rummelsbourg. The -first impulse of joy would have led him to embrace the mendicant; -but he restrained his feelings, <a name="page303"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 303</span>thinking it best not to communicate -the result of his intelligence to him.</p> -<p>“Well, my good man,” said he, “what did you -when you awoke? did you not attend to the advice given by your -good angel!”</p> -<p>“Why should I undertake a hopeless labour? It was -only a vague dream; and if my good angel was anxious to appear to -me, he might choose a night when I am not sleeping, which occurs -but too frequently; but he has not troubled his head much about -me; for if he had, I should not have been reduced, as I am now, -to his shame, to beg my bread.”</p> -<p>Francis took from his pocket another piece of money, and gave -it to the old man, saying, “Take this to procure half a -pint of wine, and drink it ere you retire to rest. Your -conversation has dispelled my sorrowful thoughts; do not fail to -come regularly to this bridge, where I hope we shall meet -again.”</p> -<p>The old lame man, not having for a long while made so good a -day’s work, overwhelmed Francis with his grateful -benedictions. They separated, and each went his way. -Francis, whose joy was at its height from the near prospect of -his hopes being realised, very speedily reached his lodging in -the bye street.</p> -<p>The following day he ran to the purchaser of the little -garden, and proposed to re-purchase it. The latter, to whom -this property was of no particular value, and who, indeed, began -to be tired of it, willingly consented to part with it. -They very soon agreed as to the conditions of the purchase, and -went immediately to sign the contract: with the money he had -found in his bag, as a gift from the lord of Rummelsbourg, -Francis paid down half the price: he then procured the necessary -<a name="page304"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 304</span>tools -for digging a hole in the earth, conveyed them to the garden, -waited till the moon was up, strictly adhered to the instructions -given him by the old beggar, set to work, and without any unlucky -adventure he obtained the hidden treasure.</p> -<p>His father, as a precaution against necessity, had buried this -money, without any intention to deprive his son of this -considerable portion of his inheritance; but dying suddenly, he -had carried the secret to his grave, and nothing but a happy -combination of circumstances, could have restored this lost -treasure to its rightful owner.</p> -<p>The chest, filled with gold pieces, was too heavy for Francis -to remove to his lodging without employing some person to assist -him; and feeling unwilling to become a topic of general -conversation, he preferred concealing it in the summer-house -belonging to the garden, and fetching it at several times. -On the third day the whole was safely conveyed to his lodging in -the back street.</p> -<p>Francis dressed himself in the best possible style, and went -to church to request that the priest would substitute for the -prayers which had been previously offered up, a thanksgiving for -the safe return of a traveller to his native country, after -having happily terminated his business. He concealed -himself in a corner, where, unseen, he could observe Meta. -The sight of her gave him inexpressible delight, especially when -he saw the beautiful blush which overspread her cheeks, and the -brilliancy of her eyes, when the priest offered up the -thanksgiving. A secret meeting took place, as had been -formerly arranged: and so much was Meta affected by it, that any -indifferent person might have divined the cause. Francis -repaired to the Exchange, set up again <a -name="page305"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 305</span>in -business, and in a very short time had enough to do; his fortune -each succeeding day becoming better known, his neighbours judged -that he had had greater luck than sense in his journey to collect -his father’s debts. He hired a large house in the -best part of the town, engaged clerks, and continued his business -with laudable and indefatigable assiduity: he conducted himself -with the utmost propriety and sagacity, and abstained from the -foolish extravagances which had formerly been his ruin.</p> -<p>The re-establishment of Francis’s fortune formed the -general topic of conversation. Every one was astonished at -the success of his foreign voyage: but in proportion to the -spreading fame of his riches, did Meta’s tranquillity and -happiness diminish; for it appeared that the silent lover was now -in a condition to declare himself, and yet he remained dumb, and -only manifested his love by the usual rencontre on coming out of -church; and even this species of rendezvous became less frequent, -which appeared to evince a diminution of his affection.</p> -<p>Poor Meta’s heart was now torn by jealousy; for she -imagined that the inconstant Francis was offering up his vows to -some other beauty. She had experienced secret transports of -delight on learning the change of fortune of the man she loved, -not from interested motives and the wish to participate in his -better fortune herself, but from affection to her mother, who, -since the failure of the match with the rich brewer, absolutely -seemed to despair of every enjoying happiness or comfort in this -world. When she thought Francis faithless, she wished that -the prayers put up for him in the church had not been heard, and -<a name="page306"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 306</span>that his -journey had not been attended with such success; for had he been -reduced to means merely sufficient to procure the necessaries of -life, in all probability he would have shared them with her.</p> -<p>Mother Bridget failed not to perceive her daughter’s -uneasiness, and easily guessed the cause; for she had heard of -her old neighbour’s surprising return, and she knew he was -now considered an industrious, intelligent merchant: therefore -she thought if his love for her daughter was what it ought to be, -he would not be thus tardy in declaring it; for she well knew -Meta’s sentiments towards him. However, feeling -anxious to avoid the probability of wounding her daughter’s -feelings, she avoided mentioning the subject to her; but the -latter, no longer able to confine her grief to her own bosom, -disclosed it to her mother, and confided the whole to her.</p> -<p>Mother Bridget did not reproach her daughter for her past -conduct, but employed all her eloquence to console her, and -entreat her to bear up with courage under the loss of all her -hopes. “You must resign him,” said she: -“you scorned at the happiness which presented itself to -your acceptance, therefore you must now endeavour to be resigned -at its departure. Experience has taught me that those hopes -which appear to be the best founded are frequently the most -delusive; follow my example, and never again deliver up your -heart. Do not reckon on any amelioration of your condition, -and you will be contented with your lot. Honour this -spinning-wheel, which produces the means of your subsistence, and -then fortune and riches will be immaterial to you: you may do -without them.”</p> -<p>Thus saying, mother Bridget turned the wheel <a -name="page307"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 307</span>round with -redoubled velocity, in order to make up for the time lost in -conversation. She spoke nothing but the truth to her -daughter; for, since the opportunity was gone by when she hoped -it was possible to have regained her lost comforts, she had in -such a manner simplified her present wants and projects of future -life, that it was not in the power of destiny to produce any -considerable derangement in them. But as yet Meta was not -so great a philosopher; so that her mother’s exhortations, -consolations, and doctrines, produced a precisely different -effect on her from what they were intended. Meta looked on -herself as the destroyer of the flattering hopes her mother had -entertained. Although she did not formally accept the offer -of marriage proposed to her, and even then could not have -reckoned on possessing beyond the common necessaries of life; -yet, since she had heard the tidings of the great fortune -obtained by the man of her heart, her views had become enlarged, -and she anticipated with pleasure that by her choice she might -realise her mother’s wishes.</p> -<p>Now, however, this golden dream had vanished: Francis would -not come again; and, indeed, they even began to talk of an -alliance about to take place between him and a very rich young -lady of Anvers. The news was a death-blow to poor Meta: she -vowed she would banish him from her thoughts; but still she shed -very many tears.</p> -<p>Contrary, however, to her vow, she was one day thinking of the -faithless one; for whenever she filled her spinning-wheel, she -thought of the following distich, which her mother had frequently -repeated to her to encourage her in her work.—</p> -<p class="poetry">“Spin the thread well, spin, spin it -more,<br /> -For see your intended is now at the door.”</p> -<p><a name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 308</span>Some -one did in reality knock gently at the door: and mother Bridget -went to see who it was. Francis entered, attired as for the -celebration of a wedding. Surprise for a while suspended -mother Bridget’s faculties of speech. Meta blushed -deeply, and trembling, arose from her seat, but was equally -unable with her mother to say a word. Francis was the only -one of the three who could speak; and he candidly declared his -love, and demanded of Bridget the hand of her daughter. The -good mother ever attentive to forms, asked eight days to consider -the matter, although the tears of joy which she shed, plainly -evinced her ready and prompt acquiescence; but Francis, all -impatience, would hear of no delay: finding which, she, -conformable to her duty as a mother, willing to satisfy -Francis’s ardour, adopted a midway, and left the decision -to her daughter. The latter, obeying the dictates of her -own heart, placed herself by the side of the object of her -tenderest affection; and Francis, transported with joy, thanked -her with a kiss.</p> -<p>The two lovers then entertained themselves with talking over -the delights of the time when they so well communicated their -sentiments by signs. Francis had great difficulty in -tearing himself away from Meta, and such “converse -sweet,” but he had an important duty to fulfil.</p> -<p>He directed his steps towards the bridge over the Weser, where -he hoped to find his old friend with the wooden leg, whom he had -by no means forgotten, although he had delayed making the -promised visit. The latter instantly recognised Francis; -and no sooner saw him at the foot of the bridge, than he came to -meet him, and showed evident marks of pleasure at the sight of -him. <a name="page309"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -309</span>“Can you, my friend,” said Francis to him, -after returning his salutation, “come with me into the new -town and execute a commission? you will be well rewarded for your -trouble.”</p> -<p>“Why not?—with my wooden leg I walk about just as -well as other people; and, indeed, have an advantage over them, -for it is never fatigued. I beg you, however, my good sir, -to have the kindness to wait till the man with the grey greatcoat -arrives.”</p> -<p>“What has this man with the grey great-coat to do with -you?”</p> -<p>“He every day comes as evening approaches and gives me a -demi-florin; I know not from whom. It is not, indeed, -always proper to learn all things; so I do not breathe a -word. I am sometimes tempted to believe, that it is the -devil who is anxious to buy my soul; but it matters little, I -have not consented to the bargain, therefore it cannot be -valid.”</p> -<p>“I verily believe that grey surtout has some malice in -his head: so follow me; and you shall have a quarter-florin over -and above the bargain.”</p> -<p>Francis conducted the old man to a distant corner, near the -ramparts of the city, stopped before a newly-built house, and -knocked at the door. As soon as the door was opened, he -thus addressed the old beggar:—“You have procured a -very agreeable evening for me in the course of my life; it is but -just, therefore, that I should shed some comfort and joy over -your declining days. This house and every thing -appertaining thereto belongs to you. The kitchen and cellar -are both well stocked; there is a person to take care of you, and -every day at dinner you will find a quarter-florin under your -plate. It is now <a name="page310"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 310</span>time for you to know that the man in -the grey surtout is my servant, whom I every day sent with my -alms till this house was ready to receive you. You may, if -you please, consider me as your guardian angel, since your good -angel did not acquit himself uprightly in return for your -gratitude.”</p> -<p>Saying this, he made the old man go into the house, where the -latter found every thing he could possibly desire or want. -The table was spread; and the old man was so much astonished at -his unexpected good fortune, that he thought it must be a dream; -for he could in no way imagine why a rich man should feel so much -interest for a miserable beggar. Francis having again -assured him that every thing he saw was his own, a torrent of -tears expressed his thanks; and before he could sufficiently -recover to express his gratitude by words, Francis had -vanished.</p> -<p>The following day, mother Bridget’s house was filled -with merchants and shopkeepers of all descriptions, whom Francis -had sent to Meta, in order that she might purchase and get ready -every thing she required for her appearance in the world with -suitable éclat. Three weeks afterwards he conducted -her to the altar. The splendour of the wedding far exceeded -that of the King of Hops. Mother Bridget enjoyed the -satisfaction of adorning her daughter’s forehead with the -nuptial crown, and thereby obtained the accomplishment of all her -desires, and was recompensed for her virtuous and active -life. She witnessed her daughter’s happiness with -delight, and proved the very best of grandmothers to her -daughter’s children.</p> -<h2><a name="page311"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 311</span>THE -SLEEPING FRIAR;<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">OR,</span><br /> -THE STONE OF FATHER CUDDY.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Above</span> all the islands in the Lakes -of Killarney, give me Innisfallen—“sweet -Innisfallen,” as the melodious Moore calls it. It is -in truth a fairy isle, although I have no fairy story to tell you -about it; and if I had these are such unbelieving times, and -people of late have grown so sceptical, that they only smile at -my stones and doubt them.</p> -<p>However none will doubt that a monastery stood once upon -Innisfallen Island, for its ruins may still be seen; neither, -that within its walls dwelt certain pious and learned persons -called monks. A very pleasant set of fellows they were, I -make not the least doubt; and I am sure of this, that they had a -very pleasant spot to enjoy themselves in after dinner:—the -proper time, believe me, and I am no bad judge of such matters, -for the enjoyment of a fine prospect.</p> -<p>Out of all the monks you could not pick a better fellow nor a -merrier soul than Father Cuddy;—he sang a good song, he -told a good story, and had a jolly, comfortable-looking paunch of -his own that was a credit to any refectory table. He was -distinguished by the name of “the fat Father.” -Now there are many that will take huff at a name: but Father -Cuddy had no nonsense of that kind about <a -name="page312"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 312</span>him; he -laughed at it, and well able he was to laugh, for his mouth -nearly reached from one ear to the other,—his might in -truth be called an open countenance. As his paunch was no -disgrace to his food, neither was his nose to his drink. -’Tis a question to me if there were not more carbuncles -upon it than ever were seen at the bottom of the lake, which is -said to be full of them. His eyes had a right merry twinkle -in them, like moonshine dancing on the water, and his cheeks had -the roundness and crimson glow of ripe arbutus berries.</p> -<p class="poetry">He ate, and drank, and prayed, and -slept,—what then?<br /> -He ate, and drank, and prayed, and slept again!</p> -<p>Such was the tenor of his simple life; but when he prayed a -certain drowsiness would come upon him, which it must be -confessed never occurred when a well filled -‘black-jack’ stood before him. Hence his -prayers were short, and his draughts were long. The world -loved him, and he saw no reason why he should not in return love -its venison and its usquebaugh. But, as times went, he must -have been a pious man, or else what befell him never would have -happened.</p> -<p>Spiritual affairs—for it was respecting the importation -of a tun of wine into the inland monastery—demanded the -presence of one of the brotherhood of Innisfallen at the abbey of -Irelagh, now called Muckruss. The superintendence of this -important matter was confided to Father Cuddy, who felt too -deeply interested in the future welfare of any community of which -he was a member to neglect or delay such a mission. With -the morning’s light he was seen guiding his shallop across -the crimson waters of the lake towards the peninsula of Muckruss, -and having moored his little bark in safety beneath the shelter -of a <a name="page313"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -313</span>wave-worn rock, he advanced with becoming dignity -towards the abbey.</p> -<p>The stillness of the bright and balmy hour was broken by the -heavy footsteps of the zealous father:—at the sound the -startled deer, shaking the dew from their sides, sprang up from -their lair, and as they bounded off—“Hah,” -exclaimed Cuddy, “what a noble haunch goes there!—how -delicious it would look smoking upon a goodly platter.”</p> -<p>As he proceeded, the mountain bee hummed his tune of gladness -around the holy man, save when buried in the foxglove bell, or -revelling upon a fragrant bunch of thyme,—and even then, -the little voice murmured out happiness in low and broken tones -of voluptuous delight. Father Cuddy derived no small -comfort at the sound, for it presaged a good metheglin season; -and metheglin he considered no bad liquor, particularly when -there was no stint of usquebaugh in the brewing.</p> -<p>Arrived within the abbey gate, he was received with due -respect by the brethren of Irelagh, and arrangements for the -embarkation of the wine were completed to his entire -satisfaction.—“Welcome, Father Cuddy!” said the -prior, “grace be on you.”</p> -<p>“Grace before meat then,” said Cuddy, “for a -long walk always makes me hungry, and I am certain I have not -walked less than half a mile this morning, to say nothing of -crossing the water.”</p> -<p>A pasty of choice flavour felt the truth of this assertion as -regarded Father Cuddy’s appetite. After such -consoling repast, it would have been a reflection on monastic -hospitality to have departed without partaking of the -grace-cup:—moreover Father Cuddy had a particular respect -for the antiquity of that custom. He liked the taste of the -<a name="page314"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -314</span>grace-cup well;—he tried another,—it was no -less excellent; and when he had swallowed the third he found his -heart expand, and put forth its fibres, as willing to embrace all -mankind!—Surely then there is christian love and charity in -wine!</p> -<p>I said he sung a good song. Now though psalms are good -songs, and in accordance with his vocation, I did not mean to -imply that he was a mere psalm-singer. It was well known to -the brethren, that wherever Father Cuddy was, mirth and melody -were with him. Mirth in his eye, and melody on his tongue; -and these, from experience, are equally well known to be thirsty -commodities; but he took good care never to let them run -dry. To please the brotherhood, whose excellent wine -pleased him, he sung, and as “in vino veritas,” his -song will well become this veritable history, I give it.</p> -<blockquote><p> O ’tis eggs are a treat<br -/> - When so white and so sweet<br /> -From under the manger they’re taken:<br /> - And by fair Margery,<br /> - Och! ’tis she’s full of glee,<br /> -They are fried with fat rashers of bacon.</p> -<p> Just like daisies all spread<br /> - O’er a broad sunny mead<br /> -In the sun-beams so beauteously shining,<br /> - Are fried eggs well displayed<br /> - On a dish, when we’ve laid<br /> -The cloth, and are thinking of dining.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Such was his song. Father Cuddy smacked his lips at the -recollection of Margery’s delicious fried eggs, which -always imparted a peculiar relish to his liquor. The very -idea caused Cuddy to raise the cup to his mouth, and, with one -hearty pull thereat, he finished its contents.</p> -<p>This is, and ever was, a censorious world, often construing -what is only a fair allowance into an excess;—but I scorn -to reckon on any man’s <a name="page315"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 315</span>drink like an unrelenting host; -therefore I cannot tell how many brimming draughts of wine, -bedecked with the venerable Bead, Father Cuddy emptied into his -“soul-case,”—so he figuratively termed the -body.</p> -<p>His respects for the goodly company of the monks of Irelagh -detained him until their adjournment to vespers, when he set -forward on his return to Innisfallen. Whether his mind was -occupied in philosophic contemplation or wrapped in pious -musings, I cannot declare; but the honest Father wandered on in a -different direction from that in which his shallop lay. Far -be it from me to insinuate that the good liquor, which he had so -commended, had caused him to forget his road, or that his track -was irregular and unsteady. Oh no! he carried his drink -bravely, as became a decent man and a good christian; yet -somehow, he thought he could distinguish two moons. -“Bless my eyes,” said Father Cuddy, “everything -is changed now-a-days!—the very stars are not in the same -places they used to be;—I think Camcéachta (the -plough) is driving on at a rate I never saw it before to-night, -but suppose the driver is drunk, for there are blackguards -everywhere.”</p> -<p>Cuddy had scarcely uttered these words, when he saw, or -fancied he saw, the form of a young woman; who, holding up a -bottle, beckoned him towards her. The night was extremely -beautiful, and the white dress of the girl floated gracefully in -the moonlight, as with gay step she tripped on before the worthy -Father, archly looking back upon him over her shoulder. -“Ah, Margery,—merry Margery!” cried Cuddy, -“you <a name="page316"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -316</span>tempting little rogue—‘<i>Et a Margery -bella</i>—<i>Quæ festiva puella</i>.’—I -see you—I see you and the bottle!—let me but catch -you, Margery <i>bella</i>.” And on he followed, -panting and smiling, after this alluring apparition.</p> -<p>At length his feet grew weary, and his breath failed, which -obliged him to give up the chase; yet such was his piety, that -unwilling to rest in any attitude but that of prayer, down -dropped Father Cuddy on his knees. Sleep as usual stole -upon his devotions, and the morning was far advanced when he -awoke from dreams, in which tables groaned beneath their load of -viands, and wine poured itself free and sparkling as the mountain -spring.</p> -<p>Rubbing his eyes, he looked about him, and the more he looked -the more he wondered at the alterations which appeared in the -face of the country. “Bless my soul and body,” -said the good Father, “I saw the stars changing last night, -but here is a change!” Doubting his senses he looked -again. The hills bore the same majestic outline as on the -preceding day, and the lake spread itself beneath his view in the -same tranquil beauty, and was studded with the same number of -islands; but every smaller feature in the landscape was strangely -altered;—naked rocks were now clothed with holly and -arbutus. Whole woods had disappeared, and waste places had -become cultivated fields; and to complete the work of enchantment -the very season itself seemed changed. In the rosy dawn of -a summer’s morning he had left the monastery of -Innisfallen, and he now felt in every sight and sound the -dreariness of winter; the hard ground was covered <a -name="page317"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 317</span>with -withered leaves;—icicles depended from leafless branches; -he heard the sweet low note of the robin who familiarly -approached him, and he felt his fingers numbed by the nipping -frost. Father Cuddy found it rather difficult to account -for such sudden transformations, and to convince himself it was -not the illusion of a dream he was about to arise; when lo! he -discovered that both his knees were buried at least six inches in -the solid stone: for notwithstanding all these changes, he had -never altered his devout position.</p> -<p>Cuddy was now wide awake, and felt, when he got up, his joints -sadly cramped, which it was only natural they should be, -considering the hard texture of the stone, and the depth his -knees had sunk into it. The great difficulty was, to -explain how, in one night, summer had become winter—whole -woods had been cut down, and well-grown trees had sprouted -up. The miracle, nothing else could he conclude it to be, -urged him to hasten his return to Innisfallen, where he might -learn some explanation of these marvellous events.</p> -<p>Seeing a boat moored within reach of the shore, he delayed -not, in the midst of such wonders, to seek his own bark, but, -seizing the oars, pulled stoutly towards the island; and here new -wonders awaited him.</p> -<p>Father Cuddy waddled, as fast as cramped limbs could carry his -rotund corporation, to the gate of the monastery, where he loudly -demanded admittance.</p> -<p>“Holloa! whence come you, master monk, and what’s -your business?” demanded a stranger who occupied the -porter’s place.</p> -<p><a name="page318"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -318</span>“Business—my business!” repeated the -confounded Cuddy, “why do you not know me? Has the -wine arrived safely?”</p> -<p>“Hence, fellow,” said the porter’s -representative, in a surly tone, “nor think to impose on me -with your monkish tales.”</p> -<p>“Fellow!” exclaimed the Father, “mercy upon -us that I should be so spoken to at the gate of my own -house!—Scoundrel!” cried Cuddy, raising his voice, -“do you see my garb—my holy garb?”</p> -<p>“Ay, fellow,” replied he of the keys, “the -garb of laziness and filthy debauchery, which has long been -expelled from out these walls. Know you not, lazy knave, of -the suppression of this nest of superstition, and that the abbey -lands and possessions were granted in August last to Master -Robert Collan, by our Lady Elizabeth, sovereign queen of England, -and paragon of all beauty, whom God preserve!”</p> -<p>“Queen of England,” said Cuddy; “there never -was a sovereign queen of England;—this is but a piece with -the rest. I saw how it was going with the stars last -night—the world’s turned upside down. But -surely this is Innisfallen Island, and I am the Father Cuddy who -yesterday morning went over to the Abbey of Irelagh respecting -the tun of wine. Do you know me now?”</p> -<p>“Know you! how should I know you?” said the keeper -of the abbey—“yet true it is, that I have heard my -grandmother, whose mother remembered the man, often speak of the -fat Father Cuddy of Innisfallen, who made a profane and godless -ballad in praise of fried eggs, of which he <a -name="page319"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 319</span>and his -vile crew knew more than they did of the word of God, and who, -being drunk, it was said, tumbled into the lake one night and was -drowned; but that must have been a hundred—ay, more than a -hundred years since.”</p> -<p>“’Twas I who composed that song, in praise of -Margery’s fried eggs, which is no profane and godless -ballad. No other Father Cuddy than myself ever belonged to -Innisfallen,” earnestly exclaimed the holy man. -“A hundred years! What was your great -grandmother’s name?”</p> -<p>“She was a Mahony of Dunlow, Margaret ni Mahony; and my -grandmother—”</p> -<p>“What, merry Margery of Dunlow your great -grandmother!” shouted Cuddy; “St. Brandon help me! -the wicked wench, with that tempting bottle—why ’twas -only last night—a hundred years—your great -grandmother said you? Mercy on us, there has been a strange -torpor over me, I must have slept all this time!”</p> -<p>That Father Cuddy had done so, I think is sufficiently proved -by the changes which occurred during his nap. A -reformation, and a serious one it was for him, had taken -place. Eggs fried by the pretty Margery were no longer to -be had in Innisfallen, and, with heart as heavy as his footsteps, -the worthy man directed his course towards Dingle, where he -embarked in a vessel on the point of sailing for Malaga. -The rich wine of that place had of old impressed him with a high -respect for its monastic establishments, in one of which he -quietly wore out the remnant of his days.</p> -<p>The stone impressed with the mark of Father Cuddy’s -knees may be seen to this day. Should <a -name="page320"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 320</span>any -incredulous persons doubt my story, I request them to go to -Killarney, where Clough na Cuddy—so is the stone called, -remains in Lord Kenmare’s park, an indubitable evidence of -the fact: and Spillane, the bugle man, will be able to point it -out to them, as he did to me.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center">THE END.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> - -<div class="gapmediumline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">MILNER AND -SOWERBY, PRINTERS, HALIFAX.</span></p> -<h2>FOOTNOTE.</h2> -<p><a name="footnote64"></a><a href="#citation64" -class="footnote">[64]</a> An open field, in which, to -satisfy the doubts of the nobles, the Emperor Frederic II., her -son, was born.</p> -<pre> - - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE WILD AND THE WONDERFUL -[1867]*** - - -***** This file should be named 66106-h.htm or 66106-h.zip****** - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/6/1/0/66106 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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