The German Novelists/La Motte Fouqué/Head Master Rhenfried and His Family

by Friedrich Heinrich Karl de la Motte Fouqué

For other English-language translations of this work, see Head Master Rhenfried and His Family.

LA MOTTE FOUQUÉ.

HEAD MASTER RHENFRIED AND HIS FAMILY.

“Shut the door, Margery, my dear,” said her old grandfather, “and bolt it too very carefully. Our young gentlemen students are about to jubilate in the streets to night, as neighbour Schwertfeger informs me, and it may be better for quiet people who occupy the ground floor, like us, to be something upon our guard. Meanwhile, I will look to the window shutters; it is already getting quite dark, and it is high time to light a candle.”

“But how will our old lodger find his way in, then, grandfather?” said the little maiden; “you know he is still out among the pine trees, and wandering about the old heathen monuments and tombs.”

“Let him rummage there, as long as he pleases, child, we cannot hinder him. And he may please, likewise, to wait awhile before the door, when he comes; for, to say truth, I do not like his ways at all, and I am sorry that I ever promised the professor, on taking the house, not to turn the strange lodger out of doors.”

“Oh, grandfather! it was surely hard enough upon poor Mr. Professor to be obliged to leave his nice family house, all owing to his wicked creditors; and it vexes me to think of it. For Mr. Professor always looks so kind and pleasant, and not so old as the other professors; then he can tell so many fine stories of by-gone times, which though they almost make one’s hair stand on end, are very pretty to hear. And as to the strange lodger, he is, perhaps, much better in his heart, than he sometimes appears to me.”

“May be so, child; but I wish I had stayed in my own little house. Whenever I go past it, I feel a kind of sinking at my heart; it was much pleasanter there.”

“Yet I think you used to complain and groan more there, than you do here, grandfather.”

“How can you make that out, Margery? You know I only removed just to please good Mr. Professor. I wish from my heart he had continued to live here instead of us; at all events he would have paid no house rent! yet he would not listen to the idea for a moment; but now, my dear, let us think of the door! see that it is made quite fast!”

Little Margery did as her grandfather bade her; she turned the key three times in the lock; slipped the bolts as far as they would go, and then both seated themselves with a feeling of quiet and security, snugly round their little hearth.

“Shall I go on reading where I left off, gran-gran?” said the pretty child with a smile. The good natured old man nodded assent, at the same time taking out of his portfolio, his lead pencil, paper and ruler, at his accustomed hour, in order to draw designs, which he afterwards exhibited for the instruction of the young artizans, as headmaster of the joiners’ trade.

For the same reason he kept but little company, living quite retired, attended only by a single maid servant, and his little granddaughter.

She had, by this time, seated herself opposite to him, began to turn over the leaves of a huge richly bound folio in parchment, and proceeded to read as follows:

“And it likewise once happened in the famed city of the sea, at Venice, that a gondolier, whose occupation there is to row backwards and forwards in boats, hung with black, upon the canals, had taken into his service a stranger, for his rower, of uncommon size and strength. Neither the gondolier, nor any one else, could learn whence the lusty varlet had last come, nor where was his native place. Some there were, more deeply read, who observing that this huge hireling was deprived of the use of speech, though he could drink well, and hail passengers politely enough, imagined that he must be some great animal metamorphosed through the wondrous power of some sorcerer into the human shape; and that from his strength and docility, he was most likely formed out of an elephant.

“Be that, however, as it may, the gondolier was well satisfied with his journeyman, who, if he devoured a good deal of food, also went through as much labour; and he troubled his head very little with inquiring into his descent and country, leaving all such conjectures to the solution of the learned.

“In this proceeding, however, he could not be justified, as no Christian master and householder ought to engage any servants, whose faith, good character, and conduct are not sufficiently known to him, since he must remain accountable both to God and man for the demeanour of such domestics, or other hired persons.”

Here the old man sighed deeply, and leaned down his head, white with age, upon his hand. Margery stopped and looked at him with surprize. He then recovered himself, and forcing a smile observed, “Well, my love, read on; I want nothing. I was only thinking how much better it had been, if—but go on, Margery, my dear.” And Margery thus proceeded:

“About the same period there happened to pass that way, a famous necromancer, who applied to the said gondolier for three able-bodied boatmen, in order to make a long and quick passage by night. The gondolier thought he was rendering him a great service by letting him have his dumb rower for one of the hands, which he calculated at the rate of five others. This he seemed to shew by the speed with which his gondola began to skim the waves. But just at midnight there was heard, from the vicinity of the route it was then going, a most hideous uproar, in which the voice of the great sorcerer was most loud, and resounded far over the waters. A few of the boldest young men hastened with torches and arms towards the spot. Soon they saw the form of the huge rower conspicuous on the deck, engaged in sinking his own vessel, and stamping it deeper and deeper into the waves below; at the same time he seemed to be playing at ball with the sorcerer, and at a single blow struck off his head, after which boat and boatman both sunk together into the deep.

“On the following morning the shattered limbs of the necromancer were found scattered in different places, washed up by the waves. What appeared still more remarkable was, the discovery of a dead elephant lying, apparently drowned, upon the sea shore, a few miles distant from the city. But whence the strange monster could have been brought, or by what means, no one knew.

“It was surmised, however, by many, that the same necromancer had, by his infernal art, metamorphosed the huge animal into the human form, and employed it in this way, at Venice, for the purpose of effecting some of his diabolical schemes. That at this time he must for once have miscalculated the exact hour and planet under which he was operating; and had unluckily, for himself, been deceived by the evil spirits, with whom he was tampering, so that in ascending the gondola, he did not even recognize the enchanted beast, as oftentimes indeed, happens to such practitioners in the black arts before attaining their end. Others again wished to infer that the magician had only assumed the strange ancient-looking form in which he appeared, and was in reality a very handsome young man, deeply smitten with a passion for the lovely consort of the Doge. That moreover he had sent the huge elephantine rower before him, in order to assist in the abduction of the noble duchess, or at all events to stir up some wild insurrection in the city, and in the state council of the Republic, favourable to his views. As it has been stated, however, he, in this instance, fell a victim to his own want of foresight in directing the potency of his own fatal arts.

“Hence we may learn . . . . .

Just at these words Margery was interrupted by a tremendous bustle in the street. She cast an anxious glance towards the windows, and at length whispered, “Ah, grandfather; I fear the young gentlemen students are eyen more wild than usual to-day!”

“It is only according to custom,” said the old man with a smile; “and birds of one feather will flock together, as the saying goes. So give no more heed to it, love, than to the blustering of a storm towards spring, and go on quietly with the book.”

Margery was once more applying herself with all diligence to the exact line and word, when suddenly there came three such thundering blows against the window shutters, that the fine old vellum book slipped out of her hand, and she hid her face in the cushion of the arm chair, which rattled, along with all the furniture in the room.

But not so the worthy head master; for hastening close under the window, he exclaimed in the same strong clear tone in which he gave the word of command, when serving à la militaire, in his youth; “Who has the boldness to disturb a free citizen in his own house? Let the wanton young blade give his name from the outside, and we shall soon see if he be as valiant as he would make us believe. As to this house, let him know it is the residence of Head Master Rhenfried—Philibert Rhenfried, President of the Honourable Joiners’ Company, belonging to this town and country. What say ye?”

A low anxious wailing was heard on the outside, very strongly distinguished through all the violent mirth and uproar of the collegians, and gradually dying away along with the same in the distance.

“What was that?” enquired both the grandfather and the child at the same moment, with a look of surprize.

The students meanwhile made a fresh movement, and formed in a grand square in the mark. Torches were seen waving in the air, mingled with no few cudgels: and it is said that a number were observed to be sharpening their hangers upon the stones. Apparently they had pronounced their pereat upon many an unlucky professor’s pate; and in particular upon his, who had so greatly won little Margaret’s regard. For though he was accustomed to banter in a friendly way with some of these wild spirits of the gown, he was extremely bitter and unrelenting, in cases of excessive wickedness and extravagance on their part, inasmuch that between the two, they hardly knew in which way to deal with him. However, they were in hopes, at least, of terrifying him out of the vexatious censorship, which he had assumed, and they were the more emboldened by the efforts of a new collegian, named Marcellin, who had been residing during some weeks, while on a tour, in the town, and ingratiated himself extremely with the whole fraternity by his superior courage and dexterity. Though a good deal older than the usual run of them, he it was who schemed and executed the most mad and juvenile tricks, while at the same time he won equal admiration by his superior abilities and acquirements. He had also conceived a great dislike to poor Margery’s favourite, the Professor Nordenholm; hated to hear him named; could never be prevailed upon to call on him as on the other professors, and felt infinitely delighted at the idea of beholding the rod which was now hanging over him, descend, in terrorem, upon his professional shoulders.

Their whole force marched forthwith until they formed a junction before the said Nordenholm’s house; and there they set up a shout for Marcellin. Marcellin! echoed from a hundred voices, but it was in vain! no Marcellin made his appearance.

At length he was seen sinking quite pale and breathless, with difficulty supporting himself upon his sword-stick, out of the crowd about him. Some of the senior natives approached him with looks of eager and terrific inquiry, while the light of their torches glared strangely upon his livid and distorted features. “What!” cried he, scornfully as they gathered round him, “do you think this either well bred or right to dog me in so scandalous a stile to the very steps of a strange old master joiner, one whom I may not so much as call by name; and would you delude me by maintaining that this is the family house of the hated Professor Nordenholm?”

“Of a truth,” replied one of the students, in no good humoured tone, “the head master resides in Nordenholm’s family house, but who, as you so outrageously insist, has offered to dog your steps thither; and, moreover, how happen you to know any thing respecting Nordenholm’s residence? you who detested to hear him named, and gave yourself no sort of concern about him! all this appears to me somewhat strange.”

Marcellin’s pride took the alarm, but at the word strange, he seemed greatly confused, and replied in a hurried, unconnected manner. This only plunged both parties deeper into the brawl, and shortly, in his excessive choler, he challenged two of the natives to meet him with sword and pistols on the ensuing morning.

After fierce words on both sides, they separated and went in different directions without attempting to resume any of their former schemes, and without a single pereat executed on any professional head.

Nordenholm watched their retreat through his half-closed windows barricadoed with huge tomes, and burst into bitter laughter, as he recalled to mind a similar convulsion, which was years before followed by the loss of his sweetest earthly enjoyments.

Meanwhile the head-master and Margaret had ceased to read, and were sitting nearer each other quite still and contemplative.

“No, read no more to-night, child,” said the old man, “the evening seems to have set in so strangely; and then the history you began to read was so very extraordinary, who knows but still more wild and absurd accounts may follow it; better bring your spinning-wheel to the table, and then if you should happen to call to mind one of your prettiest ditties sing it for me, my dear.”

Margery smiled and nodded her head, at the same time beginning to spin in right earnest, but no pretty song seemed to rise up in her trembling little heart. She seemed rather to anticipate from her looks, though the streets were again quiet, that there was yet something strangely unusual and dismal in the approaching night that weighed heavier and heavier on her mind. Nor were her forebodings felt without reason, for just then they heard heavy footsteps pacing backwards and forwards in the room above them, the same which was occupied by the old lodger who had not yet returned home, and of which he always carried the key about him, being extremely jealous of any one entering it in his absence. At times, too, they thought they heard a fearful sobbing, and sighing, almost like that of a man dying of great pain. Margaret raised up her hands, as if directing her grandfather to the spot, but said not a word, while he went and took down his old broad sword hanging on the wall, then prayed a few moments within himself, and lastly went towards the door.

“Dearest grandfather, my own best grand-papa,” whispered Margaret, “take me with you then! for whatever terrible there may be, it cannot be half so agonizing as I should imagine, were I to be left here in the little study by myself—all alone, with such dreadful thoughts. Oh yes; you must take me along with you!”

And after a few moments, while the old man had been engaged in trimming the lamp for his lanthorn, and putting out the candle which they were before burning, he motioned to the timid girl to accompany him, and lighted her on the way. But she clung fast to him, and they began to ascend the stairs together. As they proceeded up the narrow stone steps, and along the creaking landing, they continued to hear more plainly the same strange moaning and whimpering from the lodger’s chamber. They were now standing before the door, and could perceive there was a light burning within, apparent though the key-hole. “In God’s name,” cried old master Rhenfried, “what kind of being is within there, and in what manner engaged?”

The door flew suddenly open, wide open, and “Huzzah! halloh! who disturbs, who affrights me?” was repeated from a voice within, so horribly wild and mad, that master Rhenfried involuntarily stepped back, and the child fell upon her knees, muttering her prayers behind him.

In the middle of the chamber stood arrayed in a blood-red mantle, the strange lodger, and he trembled greatly. After a short pause, he said in a low hollow voice, “See! take your rent for one half year. It is upon the table; there, take it away, for it fell due the week before.”

“I shall not receive it to-day for all that,” replied the old master, with a firmly recovered and determined tone of voice, “but I both will and must know what it is that so dreadfully agitates you, and by what means you gained access into my fast-locked and bolted dwelling!”

“What I moan, and what I sigh for,” half sobbed and laughed the offended lodger, “Eh! surely the spirits that haunt the gallows have a right to do that; and why not he who regularly and orderly pays for his own lodging? How did I gain access here, you say?—Eh! what kind of questions are these?—why, the house door was standing wide open when I came; upon my honour, I can assure you, nevertheless, that I remarked nothing else.”

“For all that,” said master Rhenfried, “I have earnestly to entreat of you to leave these lodgings to-morrow morning, for truly I am not accustomed to live with people whose doors fly off their hinges when they just approach them; I will never live with them any more.”

“But I do not happen to be of the same opinion,” said the strange lodger, in a contemptuous tone, “I laugh at the idea of going out; you know you are bound over to the former landlord to suffer me to remain, So there is your rent, pick it up, it is all there.”

The old master, glancing sideways at the glittering gold, observed, “Hand to hand; I can receive nothing from you besides; I see you have brought such curious old doubloons, all marked Venice, and Iknow not what date they may bear. I believe too I have said before-time that I am no exchange broker, and have no dealings in strange obsolete coins, though I were to gain ten times the amount by them.”

“Here, however,” cried the lodger, laughing, “are no Venetian doubloons. They are old Saxon gold coins, which your forefathers have been acquainted with these thousand years. And if you sottish folk no longer prize them, yet the former master here, the wonderfully wise Nordenholm, may surely contrive to exchange them. Now pray leave me alone, or take what is due to you!”

And as old master Rhenfried was turning reluctantly away, the strange lodger slammed to the door with such violence as to blow out their light. Slowly and sad did the grandfather and daughter descend the stairs, and along the landing which sounded dismally to their footsteps, until they again reached the snug little study, and felt as if a burden were suddenly removed from their mind. They lighted and trimmed their lamp, and master Rhenfried shouted aloud for the maid-servant, to go instantly with a message for Professor Nordenholm, entreating him to come thither without loss of time. Should he be gone to rest, he must nevertheless get up, and hasten as fast as possible to consider of some very important business.

In a short while the professor made his appearance, pale and terrified. “You have sent for me on account of the lodger—is it not?” he enquired in a low voice: “my God! I might well think how it would be! but let our pretty little Margaret go to bed. Ihave much strange matter for your private ear, and our conference may be prolonged far beyond midnight.”

The head master expressed his assent, and bade the servant go along with Margaret, and both retire to rest. Margery looked a little anxiously round her, but observing that her good old grandfather, as well as the professor, was going to keep watch, she thought it would be better to try and forget her fears in sleep, and, without a word, she bade them both a sweet good night. Soon she fell into a soft slumber, and lost all recollection of the fearful occurrences of that dismal night: it had no longer power over her gentle spirit, for the smile that played upon her lips betokened innocent and angelic rest.

Meanwhile the professor and master Rhenfried were in earnest communion together, seated near one another at the little round table. After a long pause, the former in a low and fearful tone thus resumed the discourse: “I ought in the outset, my dear Rhenfried, to remind you of a great calamity which happened to you, though I am also aware, that so singular a period of your excellent life, should, if possible, be wrapped in an impenetrable veil of oblivion; but it is all of no use now. I loved your lost daughter who disappeared ten years ago, and if she did not return my affection, there was a time when she seemed to receive it with a degree of sweet complacency and friendship. The cause of the beloved girl’s loss, so inexpressibly bitter to my feelings, remains still as unaccountable to me as I suppose it yet does to you.”

The old man made a sign for him to say no more, and seemed to be absorbed in deep meditation within himself. At length he said, “No! that dreadful occurrence is not such a complete mystery as you seem to think, though more severely felt, my dear sir, than any similar affliction that perhaps ever befell me. Yet, when I take all into consideration—your known integrity; your present sincerity; your kind attachment to my grand-daughter, and the confidence she seems to feel in you; I feel I can no longer withhold mine; I feel that you fully merit it, and I will state every circumstance I know relating to the fate of my poor unfortunate girl.

“It may now be rather more than twelve years ago when there came to my house, where till then I had resided so quietly and pleasantly with my little girls;—there came, I say, one day, a handsome young man who expressed a wish to see my workshop, and after examining my models, &c. very attentively, he began to talk about an apprenticeship. As you may imagine, I at first treated the matter as mere jest, and then rejected it as a piece of uncalled for mockery on his part, warmly entreating him not to think of amusing himself at my expense. Still the young gentleman insisted he intended neither jest nor insult; he was much attached to turning and joiners’ work of all kinds, and he had resolved to become acquainted with it in all its branches thoroughly, and upon principle, under the care and instructions of a skilful master. He then hoped he had succeeded, and he was resolved, with my permission, never to relinquish his design, until he had made himself fairly master of all that it was in my power to teach. Like a madman, as I was, I gave my consent, though I knew literally nothing either who he was, or whence he came; not even whether he had any testimonials with him. I shewed him every thing in my-shop; drew up an agreement, as if the devil possessed me, and called him at his own request, by the name of Ludibert Wendelstern.”

“Ludibert!” said Nordenholm mournfully,—“Alas; there is a Ludibert occurs, likewise, in my own history. But go on! go on! Dear master. Was he then, the man who deprived you of your angelic daughter?”

“He! he! no other on earth!” replied the old man; his face growing darker and darker as he spoke. “Right well did the cunning seducer know how to apply himself to my noble art; never had I an apprentice half so skilful, for he possessed fine talents, and in more branches than one. He could play the flute beautifully, and could sing as well; while with his rapier he was a perfect master.”

Nordenholm earnestly signified his assent, and the old man continued, without noticing it.

“During our leisure hours he amused himself with instructing the rest of the apprentices and their companions in the noble science of defence, and having myself been a soldier, fond of the sword exercise, it afforded me no slight pleasure to witness their feats with the foil. On all occasions the young master exhibited the greatest politeness and good breeding in his conduct, and daily established himself more firmly in my good graces. This continued for the space of two years; when suddenly the scales fell from my deluded eyes, and I stood lost in astonishment and dismay. The young students had engaged in a similar piece of work to that we have witnessed this evening; and one of those who returned no more that night to supper, and was never afterwards seen, was Ludibert Wendelstern. On the ensuing morning I found a paper lying in my daughter Agnes’ chamber, but she was gone—gone for ever.”

The old man here rose, and unlocking a small cupboard, took out two letters which he handed to the Professor, who recognizing the hand of his beloved Agnes, began to read, though almost blinded by the tears that came into his eyes.

“A happy destiny calls me away from you, my dear father; but I know you would never have yielded me your consent. Farewell, then, and take comfort; for I feel quite assured we shall soon meet again, when you will congratulate me a thousand, thousand times on the happiness which will soon be mine.”

“That,” said the old master, “was indeed a poor prophecy,” and he drew his hand across his eyes, as if in pain: “she was far too confident, and that ever brings failure and disappointment along with it, for wretched mortals such as we are. There is only one thing certain, but that is quite certain; wherefore the Lord be praised.”

He took his cap from his reverend white head, held it between his folded hands, and prayed within himself. Afterwards he continued, with more cheerful resignation:—“During four years I could learn nothing regarding her; but at the expiration of that period, one fine morning, an infant of about four years old was found wrapped delicately up, and laid at my door. It was Margaret, and the following note was found attached to its arm; which I will endeavour to read to you:

“I have been lawfully united at the altar with my beloved Ludibert; and the sweet pledge of our affection which I herewith commit to your care, was, I assure you, by all that is holy, born in honorable wedlock. If you would not wish to curse, and to kill me, I beseech you to preserve the dear infant for me, until I come to claim her; till when her existence must remain a mystery. My noble consort maintains me in great wealth and splendor; yet, oh, best and dearest father, you cannot believe what abundance of wishful tears I shed—what sighs I pour, once more to cross our sweet home’s threshold; and which I am fondly trusting soon to do. Oh, think often of your absent, but faithful, fondly-loving,

“Agnes.”

“In the basket that contained the child was a large sum of gold and silver, with precious stones. This, however, I deposited as the subscription of some stranger for the use of St. Ursula’s hospital. But I deliberated not a moment in announcing that the young child was my grand-daughter, the offspring of the marriage of my daughter with the stranger. And now, God be praised, our good city is pleased to give full credit to any assertion from the lips of head-master Philibert Rhenfried: so far my good name helped me, and I troubled myself no farther with any needless inquiries. So at all events, my poor Agnes has not been the occasion of adding the sin of lying to the account of her aged father’s soul. I have brought up her little girl to the best of my knowledge of what is good and right, and so by Heaven’s mercy she has gone on improving, doubtless under its wise dispensations, to the fulfilment of God’s purposes here below.”

Nordenholm here pressed the old man’s hand; and leaning down his head, wept bitterly. After a long sad pause he then said: “Alas, my good master, I see how much you suffer, but your sufferings are not barbed with the stings of guilt; therefore do you bear them freely and boldly. But woe alas! I feel no sweet confidence in the same freedom. I have my misgivings, though I have nothing dreadful to reproach myself with. There is something weighs at my heart, which seems to grow heavier and heavier as the night proceeds.

“The cause of this first arose on occasion of the fore-mentioned festival, when I was young and happy, alas, doubly happy, for I then flattered myself with delightful hopes of winning your daughter’s love;—and came along with other students to enjoy ourselves here.

“After our rounds, we held jubilee in a grand decorated hall, where we were joined by a mask arrayed in yery splendid apparel. We had once, and only once, before observed the same man make his appearance, and concluded that he was one of our merry company who had some especial piece of mirth in view. This time the unknown made his obeisance, and with very humble yoice, petitioned for leave to propose a question for the consideration of our society. Receiving our unanimous consent, he began;—‘It is a question of honor and of duty;—whether a lover have a right to carry off his beloved when he is persuaded that he can maintain her in all due and lawful honor and worthiness; and is equally persuaded that her happiness and his own can be accomplished by no other means.’ He paused; and the voices on both sides rose loud on the ear; though most were perceptibly in favor of a mad assent to such a proposition; many of the students being pretty well heated with wine, and full of adventurous spirit, eager for exploits. I, even I! good master; joined in the wild and wicked votes that carried the question; but it was the first truly blameable act of my life. Even now within this last half hour, I have heard from your own lips, how very lamentably I may have assisted, by such a vote, by supporting such a proposal, in striking at my own sweetest hopes of happiness on earth.”

He hid his face in his hands, and was silent. The old master laid his hand gently upon his bowed head, and while he pronounced his forgiveness, also gave his blessing: his repentance was enough. Nordenholm then rose with renewed hope and strength, and thus continued:

“It seemed, at the same moment, as if I was carried away by a strange impulse of wilful rioting and folly, quite foreign to my usual calm and moderate feelings of enjoyment on such occasions. It appeared as if I no longer recognized myself; I wished to be foremost in the mad career we were pursuing, every where ambitious to give a spur to the follies of the hour; and in all companies striving to lead the revels, in singing, dancing, drinking or rioting. Shortly I heard reports that the stranger was exerting himself very strenuously among our colleagues to obtain some of the most bold and adventurous hands for the purpose of carrying into effect the identical exploit which had gained our unanimous applause; and that he spared no powers of oratory, no influence, to gain his point. My rude and boisterous mirth seemed to offend his more genteel and delicate bearing; and soon we had words together. Then he tore the mask from his face, and we beheld a perfectly strange, but beautiful youth, with a smile of scorn upon his features, which could not, however, impair their noble symmetry and lively expression. ‘My name is Ludibert;’ he cried, approaching me nearer, ‘for that of my family, it is noble, princely; but I shall not mention it to you. Enough that I now cite you to appear and decide our difference in honorable combat: enough that I so far condescend.’

“The challenge was as quickly received; every thing was prepared; I met him with perfect ease and confidence; for I was the unrivalled master of our ring, and stripped to our shirts, with single rapiers, we set to. Almost at the first pass, I was overpowered by the irresistible vigor of my rival’s arm: I could not even stand my guard; but was instantly struck senseless and bleeding to the ground; a part of his weapon sticking in my breast.

“Many weeks afterwards, on my first return of consciousness, my first inquiries were respecting Agnes, and the tale of her abduction then saluted my ears. I could learn nothing of the time and place, while my ideas on the subject were so mingled with the occurrences of that dreadful night, that I could only feel remorse for the mad disposition which I had indulged, and confess myself unworthy of the happiness which once appeared in store for me.

“Yet alas, good sir, my cup was not yet full. There was a favorite subject, I don’t much like to mention, which I once pursued for the sake of poetical embellishment—the research after strange old charms, and other magical influences; and this, my despair respecting the fate of Agnes, now led me to employ, for the purpose of discovering whither the beloved girl had disappeared. Ah, my worthy master; fix not your eye so sternly, so reproachfully upon me, much less turn away your sympathy from my sorrows; for know, God be praised, I have never either denied or misapplied what is holy by any instigation or pursuit of mine.” At the same time he stretched out his right hand in token of such assurance, which the good master with a look of compassion accepted and motioned to him to proceed; as he did in the following words:—

“I knew that it has been conceived possible through a fit conjunction of times and circumstances, so to fabricate a magical mirror, that it shall retain the moon’s beams in such a manner, as to exhibit by secret reflexion on the surface, every thing that passes upon the earth’s sphere in succession, according as such magic mirror shall be directed and applied. This wonderful piece of mechanism I succeeded with infinite labour and great expence in procuring; and once in the garden of this your, but formerly my house, I began, when the moon was shining clear in the heavens, and at the full, about the eleventh hour of night, to try my secret experiment. That my own apparition would be seen, in case my image fell upon my glass; seen even from the farthest corner of the earth, I was well aware; but my whole soul was so intent upon learning the fate and residence of Agnes, that I could dwell upon nothing else.

“It now seemed as if some assistant being were directing my hand in the motions of the mirror, which fortunately had been placed aright. At first only small strange forms cast their reflexions over the surface of the mirror; when at length, in the direction of the south, there arose one so enchantingly sweet and lovely before my eyes!—Oh my good master! father! she sat looking so beautiful and angelic, amidst the blooming orange bowers, in the soft moonlight which shed its beams upon the lofty pines that crowned the heights above——”

“I see your eyes sparkle with delight;” interrupted the old man, in a tone of displeasure; “you ought rather to take shame and sorrow to yourself, for having dared to dabble in any forbidden species of witchcraft, than to display the least feeling of exultation. Let me hear you describe what follows, with a becoming degree of seriousness and regret;—what farther appeared?”

With the humility of a repentant offender, the Professor cast his eyes upon the ground, and in a lower tone said, “It was, indeed, Agnes! she was splendidly attired, and was again seen walking by moonlight leaning on Ludibert’s arm. I concealed my features cautiously, at a distance, to prevent them from falling upon the mirror. Next, you yourself, Sir, suddenly appeared in the garden; and on the mirror’s surface the pale and sorrowful cast of your features was plainly visible. Seized with alarm, lest you too should catch sight of Agnes, I ran to the glass, beheld my own distorted features reflected there; and bursting into a thousand fragments the wonderful instrument fell from my trembling grasp.”

“I know it all, as well as if it happened to day,” said the white-headed Rhenfried; “yet amidst all the images that floated before my eyes I could distinguish no one; clouds of heart-sprung tears concealed them from view. For at that time I had not fully resigned myself to the will of God: I lay weeping upon my bed, but suddenly I heard a light whispering as if it had said in my ear, ‘Rise, unhappy father; in Nordenholm’s house it is known what is become of thy daughter.’ I obeyed, and doubtless it was no good spirit, which had so whispered me in my chamber. Then when I came and found you labouring under such excessive terror, you know well that I retired without speaking a single word, and never more alluded to the appalling and mysterious subject. Long afterwards, however, a heavy weight seemed to oppress my soul; from which you may learn, my poor deluded friend, how very critical and dangerous a pursuit it is, that can involve in its forbidden operations even the peace of the innocent, who would willingly resist its incantations to their last breath.”

Meanwhile they again began to hear the voice of the strange lodger above stairs, mingled with sobs and sighs, and wild fierce laughter, even louder than before.

“Good God!” cried the Professor in much alarm;—“suppose the horrid noises were to awaken the child!” Already he had raised his hand with threatening gesture towards the room above; when instantly checking himself, he sank down upon his knees and said: “Help! help me to pray! good master; that will avail us much better here.” Both then prayed, and all grew still!

When they had again seated themselves at the table, the old master first spoke:

“Assuredly, Mr. Professor, you must have disturbed my mind by some other means, besides those used with the magical mirror. You had better at once speak boldly out, and confess how it is that this strange unhappy lodger continues here; he is in some way connected with your proceedings.”

“So indeed it is,” replied Nordenholm. “For having learned that my Agnes was to be sought for somewhere in the south, I instantly collected the scattered remnants of my fortune, in order to seek her in those parts. The better to further my views, and gain access to various classes of society I assumed the title of Doctor and Professor. While I was absent, you were presented with little Margaret whom you found at your own door, but it was my fate alas, to encounter many less fair and pleasing sights, cruel and frightful adventures, which bore me, like a whirlpool, into the gulf.

“I had journeyed as far as the city of Venice. There I heard mention of a certain sorcerer, who knew how to unravel all mysteries upon earth, and as I found all my inquiries after my lost Agnes were fruitless, I formed an acquaintance with him; and he is the very same strange being, whom we just now heard crying out and lamenting over our head. On consulting him he declared that he must have some fixed abode, where he might prepare his conjurations, and that having first provided him with a floor in my own house, he would attend to my wishes. When he got possession, however, he did not keep his word; pretending that the image of Agnes appeared only dimly floating before his eyes. Moreover, I heard it currently reported at Venice that this was merely the apparition of a real sorcerer, who had flourished centuries ago, and owing to some want of foresight in his art had fallen a sudden victim; and never since been enabled to enjoy the least repose.”

“Just Heavens! that I feared,” exclaimed Rhenfried. “Margaret has this very evening read me his dreadful history aloud! Come what may, however, no time is to be lost; we must rid the house of him, at all events.” As he had said this, the old master proceeded once more to trim his lanthorn; took his good sword under his arm, and strode boldly out of the room. Nordenholm ventured not to oppose him, but followed at a distance trembling with doubt and terror, up the steps and along the sounding staircase until they reached the strange lodger’s room.

The grey-headed host knocked smartly at the door; it began to open very slowly, but not as if moved by a human hand; for the fearful guest was seated quite at the other end of the chamber, upon the ground, wrapped in a red mantle; several household implements scattered round him, and a dull blue fire flickering and casting its fitful shadows upon the opposite walls.

The strange lodger cast a keen glance at the intruders, with a smile of scorn upon his lips; and as they continued to gaze upon him, more fierce and fiery glances shot from his hollow eyes.

“Give yourselves no trouble;” he shouted in a hollow voice; “I well know your object, and what you want here; but nothing will come of it, at least during your lives; and it is a question even whether Master Philibert’s grand-children will make me quit. For I am of a very tenacious nature, and apt to tarry long at a place.”

The Professor here sighed deeply from the bottom of his soul. The Red Mantle tried to force a laugh, but in this he could not rightly succeed; though he said in triumph; “One of you, I well know, is burdened with heavy thoughts. Of that at least I am certain!”

“For me,” replied old master Philibert, very calmly,—“for me, I feel still more certain that I am not the person. Yea! and I know something yet more; that you will not yenture to stay in this house another quarter of an hour; for I hereby conjure you, in pure and lively faith, with the fear of God before my eyes, confiding in him only, to depart from hence out of this house, and never to cross its threshold more. What is more, you shall decamp forthwith, secretly and quietly, without offering to disturb a single Christian soul within these walls, without any knocking, rumbling, or roaring of any kind. Now!—avaunt!—are you going? or will you have me appeal to more strong and terrible adjurations, in the name of the Lord. Will you wait, and rue your folly, or be gone?” At these last words, with quick, horrible and threatening gestures, the lodger gathered up his strange furniture and hiding them under his red mantle, he hastened towards the door, fiercely murmuring as he went by, “Thou cunning old Professor—thou arch deceiver—not a word in my defence, against that savage greybeard; dumb villain as thou art! I will away from these walls—but then what woe—what woe—yet—yet.”

His voice continued to utter this, close in their ears, after he himself had disappeared. With the careful eye of a prudent householder and father, master Rhenfried, examined all parts of the room with his lanthorn, in order to ascertain that nothing of an unhallowed or diabolical kind had been left in the haunted room. He could discover nothing, except that upon the little table there remained the same old gold coins, counted out in payment of the strange lodger’s rent.

“Hem!” said the master, thinking awhile to himself, “an honest ghost in his way; yet I must not venture to take possession of it; though, again it is doubtless a God-send, which ought not to be buried without turning to use, nor misapplied;—I will conyey it then to St. Ursula’s Hospital. Morning is already glimmering through the window-shutters; I think we will awaken little Margaret, and take her along with us, for the child is always eager, and even quite fond of walking that way; none so pleasant, she thinks, when I go along with her.”

Very soon, then, the Professor and master Rhenfried were proceeding on their route, conducting the pretty Margery carefully between them, along the beautiful avenue of lime trees which leads with gentle ascent to the front of the Hospital. The little girl laughed and jested in so artless and engaging a manner, as to lighten up the sad contemplative features of her companions with occasional smiles. They met one of the women of the establishment, and clasping her little hands, Margery addressed her in the most friendly voice:—“Ah, lady Sibyl! ah, lady Sibyl! thou that art wont to bring me always such sweet fruit, and get’st nothing but a pat on the cheek in return. Good morning, a very good morning, lady Sibyl.”

Just at that moment was heard a confused uproar on the opposite side to where they stood, and a group of students made their appearance carrying a bier, apparently with some wounded person, to seek assistance at the hospital. Lady Sibylla, at this sight, breaking loose from the child, hastened to her post; the two friends followed her thoughtfully, while Margery hid herself anxiously behind a rose bush.

The bier was now laid down, the students gathered round in a circle, while the woman began cautiously to examine the person’s wounds. They all made way, however, for the Professor and Master Rhenfried with marks of great respect, and one of them began to whisper them how the strange student, Marcellin, had engaged with and disarmed one of the senior students, and then confessed the injustice of which he had been guilty on the previous evening, upon which a complete reconciliation took place. “So it might have been, likewise, with the second duel,” continued the relater, “or at least nothing fatal would perhaps have happened; when suddenly—no one knew whence—an old strange looking man clad in a red mantle stood in the midst of us all, murmuring some unintelligible words, and looking highly displeased at us. The combatants seemed to fight more and more furiously. In a moment the stranger stooping down, filled his hands with sand which he cast repeatedly with the speed of light in thick clouds between the rivals, at the same time loudly laughing, ‘Hail to you, old master! well a day! have I played you a trick? now for Venice; now thou hast got it well—woe—woe!’

“We heard him say these words, though he was gone, nobody seemed to know how. Lost in astonishment, we at length turned our eyes to the duellists who both lay bleeding upon the ground; the senior was dead, and Marcellin we have here brought along with us in the situation you see. Their seconds have made their escape: and we, though less guilty, are come forward willingly to deliver ourselves up to whatever punishment may be thought due. No, we did not leave him helpless upon the ground.”

The Professor and Rhenfried, not without evident reluctance and shuddering, drew nigh the bier; pale and bloody, Marcellin raised himself up; he knew Nordenholm; moaned, and then exclaimed in rage, “Thou black sorcerer—abandoned sorcerer—I swore to do it—I saw thy hateful visage when you conjured up the image of my sweet wife’s father, all sorrowful and bathed in tears. Then sat she in her orange bower, near Naples—in the soft moonshine—know you it—know you it well? In an agony of remorse she turned away from me, and thenceforth our bonds of love were broken asunder . . . . Nay, I have never since once beheld her any where on this wide and desolate earth. Then hastened I hither, to have my revenge on thee: and here I must sadly die. And yet now were all obstacles overcome; and the sweet saint were again mine—the partner of my ducal power and splendour—she, for whose sake I became a vile apprentice—and God knows what worse—yea, I had led her home—had her mine own in all the pride of love and splendour . . . . But now she is far away, and I am dying—dying, another and another victim of thy hateful infernal arts.”

A murmur was heard among the students, “The fever is mounting into his head;” others, however, were more doubtful, and hazarded a variety of conflicting conjectures. Master Rhenfried looked round him with a free and friendly air; he then took his cap off his fine grey head, and spoke in a clear but mild tone, “To the very respectable young students, and any other spectators who may wish to put questions on this affair, I here stake my life and honor, that professor Nordenholm is wholly innocent of causing this young man’s death.”

The murmurs became still, all moved respectfully in token of assent to the worthy old man, and they began to advance excuses, and canvass the professor’s conduct in a more favourable manner. He himself, however, appeared unconscious of what was passing around him, he stood the very picture of grief, the hot bitter tears coursing each other down his cheeks.

Master Rhenfried meanwhile bent over the dying man, and with gentle firmness said, “You will soon appear in the presence of the great God, my dear sir, and now you see before you the face of that man whom you have the most deeply betrayed and injured, even deprived of his last sweetest hopes on earth. But God be praised—I know, I confess, Him who purchased us with his blood; bore all our sins, and has paid the price even for yours. So take comfort, dear sir, I forgive you from the bottom of my soul, and if you depart with feelings of reconciliation and regret, be assured you will likewise meet with still greater compassion—pardon—blessed peace, in that better state to which you are now fast hastening. With whatever evil, deceit, and falsehood, Ludibert, you so vilely assumed the name of Wendelstern on earth, I do confidently predict that for this your sorrow and ruth, you shall yet retain your name, and become a fair bright star (stern) in Heaven, high above all your earthly pomp and state; in a sphere where friend and enemy may unite in the enjoyment of the same heavenly blessedness and delights. Go, take thy rest then, dear Ludibert, with a meek and reconciled spirit, in holy hope, in lively assurance, that thou shalt wake ’mid the light of a brighter and happier morn.”

The supposed Marcellin, now the unhappy Ludibert, stretched forth his hands to the good master, and mildly turning his eyes to the spot where stood the late hated Nordenholm, a friendly smile played upon his features; he pressed his hand, bowed down his head upon it, and died.

Now, too, it was first observed, that the female attendant had fallen into a swoon by the side of the bier. The old man gently raised up her head, and held her until she came to herself; when, refusing all farther assistance, with feeble step, and drawing her hood and cloak closer around her, she proceeded towards the hospital. The students again raised the bier, and in perfect silence bore the deceased slowly along towards an ancient half-dilapidated church at a short distance; while Nordenholm not a little consoled after seeing Ludibert’s happy departure, with his usual promptness and decision pointed out to them, in few words, when they had laid down the bier at the church door, all that was necessary to be observed on such an occasion, and how they might best clear up their conduct by shunning not, and by disguising nothing from the civil power.

The students bowing respectfully and returning their unanimous thanks, while they at the same time condoled with him, then took their leave, shewing by the sorrow of their countenances, how much their hearts were amended.

Meanwhile the spital woman had beckoned the aged Rhenfried to accompany her, and stopped as she was entering the hospital under the vaulted entrance, where she began to enter into earnest discourse with him. Seeing the professor approaching, the old master beckoned to him, and said, “Here, friend, this good woman wishes to communicate something to us; let us hear her!”

She then threw back her veil and hood, and there stood before them the long-lost and lamented Agnes; saintly pale, indeed, and bearing the traces of deep suffering, but whose features were not to be mistaken by the eye of a father, and of a lover. In the same serious and lofty frame of mind, produced by what had so recently happened, all three seemed now to regard earthly sorrows and earthly wishes with a spirit of serene and cheerful patience, and whatever the future might have in store for them, either to part with or bear, they were already prepared for, and saw as it were approaching along the vista of coming years.

Little Margaret who had laid herself to sleep beside the rose tree, overpowered with the last night’s anxieties and fatigue, now came skipping towards them, and playfully caressing the weeping Agnes, said, “How beautiful you look this morning, dear lady Sibylla, now you have thrown aside your black cap and hood, but you must not cry—women never cry!” But her delight knew no bounds when she learned that the lady was going home to live with her, and was to have the room of the strange old lodger for her own, who was never coming back any more.

This, too, she found to be all true; she was quite enraptured at the change, and under the delicate and incessant guardianship and attentions lavished upon her by the three friends, pretty Margery grew and flourished, until she bloomed in full beauty, one of the most fair and lovely flowers in the rich garland of Germany’s gentle women.

END OF VOL. II.

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Thomas White, Printer, Crane Court.