The Count of Nideck

stand idly by and watch the sands of Time's hour-glass run out. Towards midnight, the Count seemed almost gone; his pulse beat feebly, and at times seemed to stop. Sometimes I thought the end was

re, whose rays danced upon the polished flagstones. After an hour, the fire suddenly started up, and as it often happens, the flame, rising and falling momentarily, beat upon the walls its g

ELBOW AND STARED FEAR

n, the natural offspring of my feverish thoughts. I raised myself on my elbow, and stared fearfully in the direction, real or fancied, of the image. It was she indeed! Calm and motionless she s

sterious power seemed no whit exaggerated. The vision of Lieverlé growling against the wall passed before me like a flash. I huddled close in the alcove, hardly daring to breathe, and watching this imm

a pine splinter, the flame leaped up and a few rays penetrated to the end of the room. This flash sufficed to show me the aged woman dressed in an old gown of purple brocade that shimmered violet and

my body would obey my will, not a sound passed my lips, and the old witch, bending over me between the parted curtains, fixed her eyes on me with a strange smile. I tried to spring upon her and cry for help, but her glance paralyzed me as the snake's look charms the tiny bird. During this dumb contemplation, each second seemed to me an eternity. What was she about to do? I was prepared for

ught dying, clad in a huge wolf-skin, with its upper jaw projecting like a visor over his eyebrows, the claws resting on his shoulders, and the tail dragging behind him over the flagstones.

confused. Flight was impossible. I had presence of mind enough

ey moved to the fireplace on tiptoe, and there in the shadow of the triforium the Black Plague unrolled a large bundle, grinning hideously meanwhile. Hardly had the Count caught sight of the sack, before he sprang to the b

heir shadows danced upon the walls. Then a great movement succeeded. The old creature and the Count together crowded the bed clothes into the sack, stamping them down with the haste of a dog scratching a hole

d along by a subtle, irresistible curiosity. I crossed the court at a run, and was about to enter the Gothic Tower, when I perceived a deep, narrow pit at my feet, a

at the foot of Hugh's donjon-tower. Who would have supposed that such a hole led up to the Castle? Who had shown it to the old woman? I did not stop to answer these questions. The vast plain lay before me, flooded with a light almost equal to that of day. To the right stretched the dark extent of the Black Forest, with its perpendicular rocks, its gorges and ravines. The night air was still and bitter cold; I felt exalted by the keen atmosphere. My first glance was to d

full light, for the moon was shining with surprising brilliancy. A few clouds followed her, and seemed as if stretchi

winds beneath the colonnades of the Black Forest. I hear the snow crunching beneath my step, and the fallen leaves rustling in the gently stirring north wind

higher boughs intersected the lower branches and traced their outlines on the snow-covered path.

er slowly trickling beneath its thick covering of ice. The vast solitude no longer had its murmurs, its warblings, and its thunder; its oppressive stillness inspired fear. The Count an

n sheets of ice. This resemblance to a wave leaping into the precipice, and bearing with it the neighboring trees, sucking up the underbrush and cleaving the ivys that follow on its crest without becoming uprooted; t

l drama bent over to watch it as it fell. The long, white sheet, swelling upwards as it met the rising breath of the chasm, and then falling slowly and disappearing from s

e Count's hand and drag him along with dangerous speed down the mountain side. Then it became dark again, and I dared not risk a step lest I should fall headlong into an abyss. Once more the clouds parted. I looked about me and found

ck and the old woman, I