"Let us hear it," cried the old steward, whose face was becoming discomposed with anger.

"No," returned the Baron, "I will tell you nothing, nor shall you set foot inside this cave."

"We will see about that," said Sperver, advancing towards the cavern.

The young man drew his hunting-knife. Seeing this, I tried to spring between them, when the hound, which I was holding by a leash, shook himself free, throwing me to the ground with the force of the shock. I thought that the Baron was lost; but at the same moment a savage cry rose from the back of the cavern, and as I rose to my feet, I saw the old woman standing upright before the fire, her clothing in rags, her head run forward, and her gray locks scattered about her shoulders, with her long, skinny arms raised towards heaven, and uttering dismal howls, like the cries of the wolf in the cold winter nights, when hunger is gnawing at his entrails.

Never in my life had I witnessed such a frightful spectacle. Sperver, motionless, with his eyes fixed on the strange scene before him, seemed turned to stone. The dog, surprised himself at this unexpected apparition, stood still for a moment, then suddenly arching his bristling back, he flew at the hag with a low growl of fury that made me shudder. The entrance to the cavern was some eight or ten feet above the spot where we stood, or he would have reached it with a single bound. I can hear him still, as he crashes through the frost-laden bushes, and see the Baron fling himself before the old woman with the heart-rending cry:

"My mother!"

Then, as the dog takes his final spring, Sperver, quick as lightning, raises his rifle, and brings down the n.o.ble animal dead at the young man's feet. All this was the work of an instant. The gorge was momentarily lighted by the rifle flash, and the echoes, taking up the noise of the explosion, carried it roaring and tumbling to the infinite depths of the neighboring crags.

When the smoke cleared away, I saw Lieverle lying stretched out at the foot of the rock, and the old woman fainting in the arms of the young man. Sperver eyed the Baron gloomily, as he dropped the b.u.t.t of his rifle to the ground, his features working with rage and grief.

"Baron," he said, pointing to the cave, "I have killed my best friend to save the woman whom you call your mother. You may thank G.o.d that her destiny was bound up with that of my master. Take her away from here.

Take her far away, and let her never return; for, if she does, I cannot answer for myself."

Then, glancing at his dog:

"My poor Lieverle!" he cried; "was this to be the outcome of our long years of friendship? Come, Gaston, let us hurry away from this accursed spot. I might do something I should regret afterwards."

Seizing his horse's mane, he started to throw himself into his saddle, but suddenly his heart swelled to bursting, and dropping his head on his horse's neck, he wept like a child.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BARON'S STORY.--HE DISAPPEARS.

Sperver set out, carrying the body of Lieverle in his cloak. I had refused to follow him, for I felt that duty compelled me to remain near this unhappy woman, and I could not have abandoned her without violating my conscience. Moreover, I am obliged to confess I was curious to examine more closely this mysterious being, and hardly had Sperver disappeared in the darkness of the defile before I began climbing the path to the cavern. A strange sight awaited me there. Upon a large fur cloak with green facings lay the old woman in a long purple robe, with a golden arrow stuck through her gray hair, her withered hands clutching her breast.

Time will never efface the image of this woman from my mind. Her vulture-like face, distorted by the last agonies of death, her staring eyes and half-opened mouth, were appalling to look upon. Such might have been the last hour of the terrible Queen Fredegonde. The Baron, on his knees beside her, tried to restore her to animation, but at the first glance it was evident to me that the unfortunate creature was dying, and it was not without a sentiment of profound pity that I kneeled to raise her arm.

"Leave her alone! How dare you touch her?" cried the young man bitterly.

"I am a doctor, monsieur."

"Ah, pardon me!"

He was deathly pale, and his lips trembled nervously. After a moment, he asked:

"What is your opinion, monsieur?"

"It is over. She is dead."

Without replying, he leaned back against the wall of the cavern, his forehead resting in his hands, and staring straight before him, motionless as marble. I sat near the fire, watching the flames as they climbed to the arched top of the cave, casting their vivid reflections upon the rigid features of the Black Plague.

We had been sitting thus for a full hour without stirring, when suddenly lifting his head, the Baron said to me:

"Monsieur, all this confounds me. Here is my mother,--for twenty-six years I thought I knew her, and now a whole world of mystery and horror opens itself before my eyes. You are a doctor; tell me if you have ever known anything like it before."

"Monsieur," I replied, "the Count of Nideck is afflicted with a malady that bears a striking resemblance to that of which your mother has been the victim. If you have confidence enough in me to relate to me the facts which you yourself must have witnessed, I will gladly tell you what I know of the matter, for this exchange may be the means of saving my patient."

As I began to speak the Baron started, and exclaimed:

"What? the Count of Nideck visited thus? This is more than a coincidence."

And without further parley he informed me that the Baroness Zimmer, belonging to one of the n.o.blest families in Saxony, and being a blood relation of the Count of Nideck (to whom he should have made himself known had not circ.u.mstances required that he should maintain the strictest secrecy as to his ident.i.ty), had been accustomed for many years to make a journey into Italy towards Christmas, accompanied by an old man servant, who alone possessed her entire confidence; that this man, being at the point of death, had desired a private interview with her son, and that at the last hour, tormented no doubt by remorse, he had told the young man that his mother's journey into Italy was only a pretext to furnish her a means of making an excursion into the Black Forest, of the object of which he himself was in ignorance, but which must have been of some fearful nature, since the Baroness invariably returned haggard, in rags, and almost dead, and that it required weeks of rest to repair the terrible fatigues of these few days.

This is what the old servant had related to the young Baron, thinking that in so doing he was only fulfilling his duty. The son, wishing to learn the truth of his story, whatever the cost to himself, had this very year verified the incomprehensible fact by following his mother first to Baden, and then pursuing her step by step into the gorges of the Black Forest. The tracks which Sebalt had discovered on the Altenberg were his.

When the Baron had finished his confidence, I thought that I ought no longer to conceal from him the singular influence which the advent of the old woman exercised upon the Count's health, nor indeed any of the attendant circ.u.mstances, and accordingly, I imparted to him even the slightest details.

The Baron was amazed by the coincidence of these facts; the mysterious attraction which these two beings exercised over one another without knowing it, the ghastly drama which they had enacted without consciousness, the acquaintance which the old woman had shown with the Castle and its most secret pa.s.sages, without ever having seen them before; the costume which she had discovered in which to carry out the murder in pantomime, and which could only have been discovered in some mysterious retreat which magnetic clairvoyance had revealed to her.

When I had ended the recital of my experiences, the Baron relapsed into his former gloomy silence, nor did he again rouse from it while I remained near him. I fancied I could read in his face and att.i.tude the one wish to distance himself forever from the scene of this bitter revelation.

While we were still sitting, each one buried in his own reflections, the darkness of night began to fade. An owl, far off in the shadows, sounded the retreat of darkness with its strange note, like the gurgling of liquid from a bottle. Presently we heard a whinnying in the depths of the defile, and then, in the first rays of dawn, we saw a sledge approaching, driven by the Baron's servant. It was covered with straw, and upon it rested a litter, on which we laid the body of the old woman.

I mounted my horse, who did not seem sorry to stretch his legs again, having stood half the night in the snow, and I accompanied the sledge as far as the outlet of the glen. There, having gravely saluted one another for the last time, they proceeded in the direction of Hirschland, and I on my way towards the Castle of Nideck.

At nine o'clock I was again in Odile's presence.

"The Plague is dead!" I cried, "and the spell is raised forever from the Castle. Henceforth we may look for the olden days at Nideck."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ODILE DROPPED HER EYES."]

And I related the extraordinary experiences of the last twenty-four hours, exulting in our victory over the hag. When I had finished, and recalled to my now happy love her promise of the day before, Odile dropped her eyes, flushed charmingly, and returned the pressure of my hand with averted head.

After some precious moments pa.s.sed in the indulgence of our new-found happiness, I proceeded to the Count's chamber. I found him in a very satisfactory condition. He was naturally in a state of complete exhaustion after the terrible crises that he had been through, but was entirely himself, and the fever had disappeared the evening before.

Everything pointed towards a speedy recovery.

"Monsieur," I said, as he greeted me with a warm grasp of my hand, "your restored health is a.s.sured, and it is but the matter of a few days when you will be able to indulge in your favorite pastime again."

"I believe you, monsieur! I feel that myself as I have never done before, and I am bound that you shall remain at Nideck and accompany me on my first boar hunt."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, monsieur," I replied. "Though an entire novice in the art, I shall doubtless gain much by employing my powers of observation."

"And furthermore," continued the Count, "your reward for this greatest of all services which you have performed for me shall be whatever you may require that lies within my gift!"

"Monsieur," I replied, bowing low, "your generosity overwhelms me.

However, we will discuss the matter of compensation at a future time, when your strength will better admit of it. At present let me say that the existing state of affairs is an ample reward for anything I may have been able to accomplish in your behalf." And meanwhile I wondered if the Count realized the significance of his promise as I reflected upon the recompense I was presently to seek at his hands.

As his malady left him, I found the master of Nideck a changed man. His features, which had at first aroused only a sentiment of repugnance in me, slowly resumed their natural expression, and became dignified and even handsome. His generosity and kindness exceeded anything I had before experienced, and everything that Knapwurst had declared in his master's favor was realized to the utmost. From liking I grew to loving him, as I felt indeed I must have done if only as the author of Odile's being.