Page:The Scots Magazine and Edinburgh Literary Miscellany (vol 94, 1824).djvu/598

 arranged, came flying up, and attacked me; I took to flight. Eleonora called him her preserver, her good angel. The Secretary obtained the whole credit of having saved her. He got all he wanted. I got nothing. When I demanded my pay, he told me I was a year’s rent in arrear to my lord, and that if I held my tongue, he would give me credit for it in the reckoning,—if not, he would have me thrown into prison. What could I do? For the sake of my wife and children I was compelled to be silent.”

“You are a pair of precious rascals,” said Saalburg; “confound me if I know which most deserves the gallows. “WhoWho [sic] is the lady whom the Secretary is to bring along with him to-morrow night?” “God knows,’knows,” [sic] said the woodman; “some mistress or other; he has as many as there are sands on the sea shore.”

Saalburg breathed more freely, as he felt that the exposure of this wretch was now so near. “Take this letter,” said he, “to the Secretary, and tell him every thing is arranged. To show you that I intend to keep my word, take this purse. If you betray me, you know what you and yours have to expect. If you are honest, you shall receive your stipulated reward from me, the day after new-year’s-day, at the castle.”

Saalburg then let the man go, who departed with strong protestations of his honest intentions. He himself returned, slowly and pensively, to the castle, digesting in his own mind his plan of operations.

During tea, he kept his attention fixed on Eleonora, whose evident agitation did not escape his notice. The conversation, this evening, happened to turn on the great antiquity of the castle, and the strange-looking colossal statue of Fust von Neideck, over the entrance, which looked as if it had been set up there to frighten away all visitors. “Oh! my dear uncle,” cried Rosalie, “is it really true that Sir Fust and the Lady Venus walk about the castle? We have entered already on the twelve holy nights, and every evening I am in an agony.” “Stuff—nonsense—confounded lies,” muttered old Neideck. “But, uncle,” resumed the obstinate young lady, “my aunt’s maid—” “Aye, no doubt, she knows a great deal more of what takes place in my castle than I do.” Rosalie was silent for a moment. Her uncle resumed, in a milder key, “Well, tell us what she saw; I see you are dying to be out with it.” “Nothing, uncle, but she heard—” “Ho, ho! heard; the old story exactly. I wish to God I could hear no more of it!”

“But, brother,” cried Frau von Rehfield, who had been longing for some time to take a part in the discussion, “if there is really nothing in it, why put yourself in such a passion? People will think some family secret is concealed under it. The servants merely say, that there are noises and alarms in the house, during the twelve nights, and surely there can be no harm in saying so.”

“Aye but there is, good sister—I have no wish that the affairs of my house should form the subject of conversation in every alehouse. If this folly is not put an end to, the blockheads will go on frightening one another to death with their confounded ghost stories. Besides, I find that they make a handle of this to excuse a thousand faults and disorders.”

“My dear Baron,” said Saalburg, smiling, “I have little or no belief in stories of the kind. But that we may know at least what tradition really says about the matter, I think you had better tell us the story—Perhaps it will tend to remove Rosalie’s fright.”

“Be attentive, then, all of you,” said the Baron von Neideck, “and listen to the wonderful history of the and the, which took place, according to the best authorities, about the year 1109.

“Fust von Neideck was a wild huntsman, an approved sword and buckler man, and withal a most potent drinker. He became such a virtuoso in this last accomplishment, that his fame spread far and wide; and the consequence was, that in his thirtieth year, he could scarcely stand so steadily on two feet as other people on one.

“His unmarried sister, who lived with him, witnessed his progress in the art with great dismay, and often tormented him with her importunity to choose a wife from among the