night, about sunset, he approached a small place called Rummelsburgh, which was subsequently destroyed in the thirty years’ war. There were a number of carriers in the tavern, and he could find no room. The landlord bade him hasten to the next village, as he, in fact, mistook him for the spy of some gang of thieves, on watch, perhaps, for the carrier’s goods. So, in spite of his increasing weariness, Frank found he must again take his bundle on his shoulder, and prepare for a farther journey that night.
As he went, however, he made some cutting reflections upon the landlord’s inhumanity; insomuch, that, as if repenting of his own harsh proposal, he began to pity the poor traveller, and called out, “One word yet, young man: if you particularly wish to pass the night here, I think I can contrive it. There are plenty of apartments in the castle hard by; I have got the keys, if you should not think it too solitary for you.” Frank willingly closed with the offer, requiring only supper and shelter, whether in a palace or in a hut. But mine host was somewhat of a wag, and, intending to revenge himself upon poor Frank for his abuse of him, he proposed a night’s residence in the haunted old castle, where there had been no inhabitant for many years, owing to the cruel pranks of a spirit which had frightened them all in succession away.
This castle was erected on a steep cliff, on the
