The Mysterious Sketch

k unable to find the exit from which

I staggered on, wondering if I was not mad, unable to believe in wha

gh all the details of an imaginary murder without the omission of one ghastly detail or circumstance, then escaping and committing to the furious torren

panting and alarmed, and unable to

ed, I execrated Sperver for having brought me from

my ears nearly frostbitten, I discovered t

little lodge, cut in the rock, remained silent; I thought the little humpbacked wretch

ng a

appeared abruptly, and he cried

are

ctor F

a lantern, crossed the outer court where the snow came up to h

tower. Were you ringing? Now that explains why Sperver came to me about midnight to ask

or pity's sake let me in, and I wil

sir, a litt

d the padlock and slipped the bars, whilst my teeth we

oor, I don't know why; he does not usually do so; the outer gate is enough. Come in here and get warm. You won't find my lit

chatter I followed him i

f picturesque disorder in which I found the place. The slate roof leaning against the rock, and resting by

and two small windows with hexagonal panes, weather-stained with the rainbow tints of mother-of-pearl. A large square table filled up the middle

ume, with illuminations, bound in vellum, clasped and cornered with silver, apparently a collection of old chronicles. Besides there w

corner a small cast-iron stove, with its low, open door wide open, and throwing out now and then a volley of bright spa

h the old Flemish painters delighted, and of which they alone pos

host, after we had both installed ourselves, and w

I answered. "I had to

ittle hunchback, and he lighted his blackened

't smoke

our pard

id, spreading his yellow hand over the open volume. "I

d to wait! Of course you stayed to f

ning, and we both

," he said, "I should have fin

ith the crow's feet at the outer corners, that contorted nose, bulbous at its end, and especially that huge double-storied forehead of his. The whole figure reminded me not a little

rightening, warming, and benumbing the face of nature outside. Whilst men in the outer world are subject to the gentle influences of love, or the sterner impulses of ambition or avarice, hoping, coveting, longing, and desiring, he neither hopes, nor desires, nor covets anything. As long as he is smoking his pipe, with his eyes feasting on a musty parchment, he lives in the enjoyment of dreams, and he goes into raptures over things long, long ago gone by, or which have never existed at all; it is all one to him. 'Hertzog says so and so, somebody else tells the tale a different way,' and he is perfectly happy! His leathery face gets more

e was shedding a pleasant influence over my feelings, and I felt myself

upon the folio, said in a voice that seemed to issue from the bottom of his co

ere is the law a

what do y

ould be the fame of their titles, their deeds of arms, their magnificent armour, their expeditions to the Holy Land, their alliances, their claims to remote antiquity, their conquests once complete, now long ago annulled? Where would be all those grand claims to historic fame without these parchments? Nowhere at all. Those high and mighty barons, those gr

moment, and then pur

ther of a goosequill! How they laughed at him, calling him an atom or a flea, good for nothing! 'He does nothing, he cannot even collect our taxes, or look after our estates, whilst we bold riders, armed to the teeth, sword in hand and lance on thigh, we fight, and we are the finest fellows in the land!' So they said when they saw the poor devil dragging himself on foot after their horses' heels, shivering in

e over his features, and his own eloquence made the tea

d protected his unwarlike but clever ancestors. And after all

aid, "Monsieur Knapwur

earn Latin, Knapwurst?' 'I taught myself, monseigneur.' He asked me a few questions, to which I gave pretty good answers. 'Parbleu!' he cried, 'Knapwurst knows more than I do; he shall keep my records.' So he gave me the keys of the archives; that was thirty years ago. Since that time I have read every word. Sometimes, when the count sees m

very good ma

ter! he is so frank and so pleasant!" cried the

at may

no amb

you prov

Well! he desired nothing of the sort. When he was no longer a young man he retired from political life. Except that he was in the campaign in France at the head of a regi

tion was of its own accord taking just the turn I wished

never had any exci

rtune for a noble race when a member of it is devoid of ambition; he allows his family to sink below its level. I could gi

heories upon the count's past

the lord of Nideck has had

as w

ss of h

travelled in Italy together but she returned worse than she went, and died a few weeks after their return. The count was almost broken-hearted, and for two years he shut himself up and would see no one. He neglected his hounds and his horses. Time at last calmed his grief, but there is always a remainder of grief," said the hunchback, pointi

e was a happy o

was a blessing

d to yield to evidence. But, then, what was the meaning of that scene at night, that strange connection with the B

lf in vain

s pipe, and handed me

ich follows great fatigue when by the chimney-corner in a comfortable easy-chair, veiled in wreaths of tobacco-smoke, you yield to

or a quarte

ventured

count gets angry

a sinister, almost a fierce an

ow, I

t learn something now in support of my

gh, and slander flies too lo

still it is a f

not, for her. He went off alone, and brought back the articles in triumph, blowing his horn. He would have entrusted so delicate a commission to no one, not even to Sperver, whom he is so fond of. Mademoiselle never dares express a wish in his hearing lest he should start off and fulfil it at once. The lord of Nideck is the worthiest master, the tenderest father, and the

f disorganisation. I laid my head bet

at I was asleep, had tu

nd the lamp turning pale. Indistinc

. I saw some one pass before the window, the door o