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The Mysterious Sketch

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 2791    |    Released on: 04/12/2017

ideck was in

, when the invisible wrestlers are writhed together body to body and limb to limb, panting, each in tu

rage of despair. But the relentless enemy beats at the gates; he bursts in; then Life springs to the rescue, and again grapples with

t and the arm powerless, can do nothing for himself. His breathing, sometimes short, broken, and distres

, will speed her flight to another world, with the exulting cry, "I have fought the good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith!" And Death, disappointed of its prey, will look up at the emancipated being, unable to follow, and holding in its clutches only a cold and decaying corpse, soon to

was at hand; the broken, weakened pulse indicated the sinking of the vital p

as to stay and see

gue and anxiety; whatever

l fellow was in the utmost distress; he reproached himself with his involuntary

, having had scarcely any time to take

sleep soon came to relieve my weight of apprehension-that heavy sleep broken b

he flame fitfully rising, and falling threw a fluttering, flickering light like those

eyes to see the cause of these alternate lights

ble light of a few dying embers, I recognised w

tool, and was eviden

natural enough after the exciting scenes of the last few days; I raised

her hands clasped over her skinny knees, just as I had seen her in the snow,

seemed to be coming true! And now the unaccountable behaviour of Lieverlé, growling so fiercely against the wall, seemed clear as the daylight. I huddled myself close up into

ewn pillars on each side of the hearthstone,

y during the long silence, made more startling by the m

inter of fir-wood, a flash of light broke out, the shaving twisted

stiff as cardboard, with a violet pattern; there was a massive bracelet upon her left wrist, and a gold arrow stu

ions towards me, or she might easily have taken a

om her seat and with slow steps approached my bed, holding in her hand a torch w

ing over me between the curtains, fixed her stony stare upon me with a strange unearthly smile. I wanted to call for help, I wanted to drive he

inutes seemed like hours. What was she

ound upon her heel, listened, strode

eet as if I were acted on by a spring; I darted after her footsteps; she with

of the long gallery, under the Gothic archway of the

e Count o

wn with its upper jaw projecting grimly over his eyes like a visor, the formidable

und his neck, and his whole aspect, but for the ice-cold deathly ex

gue and confused. Flight was no longer possible, yet I had the p

xed. They spoke to one another in hoarse whispers, so low that I could not distinguish

he dark shadow of the recess at its side the Black

there was a shaking of the curtains, his body disappeared beneath their folds, and I could only se

No real scene, however frightful, could have agitated me

ed the walls; but the most horrible of all was that I fancied I saw a pool of blood creeping across the floor and s

ng the sheets of the bed into the sack, they were thrusting and stamping them in with just the same haste as a dog scratching at a hole, then the lord of Nideck flung t

under me; they knocked together

their footsteps, dragged forward

ut narrow pit at my feet, down which went a winding staircase, and there far below I could see the torch

t light; suddenly it vanished. The old woman and the count had reached the bottom of the precipice. Supported

ht shining under a low door, through the nettles and brambles; I kicked a way through these obstacles, clea

ed up into the castle? Who had shown it to the old wo

. On the right lay extended wide the dark line of the Black Forest with its cragg

I felt myself awakened to the highest degree, almost as if

companion. I soon distinguished their tall dark forms standing out sharply against

inary winding-sheet dragging slowly after him. There

e moon was shining with astonishing brilliancy. A few clouds floated idly across the zenith, seeming to want to clasp her in

ncy still I can see the rough mountain path through the Black Forest, I can hear the crisp snow crackling under foot, and the dead leaves rustling i

ows of their higher boughs intersect the lower branches, and fall broken upon the snow-encumber

r no current is visible; scarcely does a mere thread of its blue waters trickle under the thick crust of ice. Here the deep solitude is bro

f the rock, up which they mounted straight with marvellous cele

the Schnéeberg, a mass of ice. That resemblance to an immense wave taking the precipice at one bound, bearing trees on its breast, fringed with the bushes, and winding out the long ivy sprays, which exhibit in their delicate tracery the form of the rigi

seemed to shr

ng it for a moment over the edge of the precipice, then the long shroud floated o

s. It descends, it falls like a wild swan shot in the clouds, spreading

ppeared in the dark d

ng to cover the moon's bright disc veiled her in

hand and dragging him forward with hur

I could not move out of their way witho

there was a rift in the cloud. I looked out again. I stood

erilous position, and ran to the castle in as much con

eck and his companion,

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