Besides, I must confess I was curious to see a little more closely this strange mysterious being, and therefore as soon as Sperver had disappeared in the darkness of the glen I began to climb up to reach the cavern1.
Extended upon a large cloak of white fur lay the aged3 woman in a long and ragged4 robe of purple, her fingers clutching her breast, a golden arrow through her grey hair.
Never shall I forget the figure of this strange woman; her vulture-like features distorted with the last agonies of death, her eyes set, her gasping5 mouth, were fearful to look upon. Such might have been the terrible Queen Frédégonde.
The baron6, on his knees at her side, was trying to restore her to animation7; but I saw at a glance that the wretched creature was dying, and it was not without a profound sense of pity that I took her by the arm.
"Leave madame alone—don't touch her," cried the young man with irritation8.
"I am a surgeon, monseigneur."
He looked in silence at me for a moment, then rising, said—
"Pardon me, sir; pray forgive my hasty language."
"What is your opinion, sir?"
"It is over—she is dead!"
Then, without speaking another word, he sat upon a large stone, with his forehead resting upon his hand and his elbow on his knee, his eyes motionless, as still as a statue.
I sat near the fire, watching the flames rising to the vaulted10 roof of the cave, and casting lurid11 reflections upon the rigid12 features of the corpse13.
We had sat there an hour as motionless as statues, each deep in thought, when, suddenly lifting his head, the baron said—
"Sir, all this utterly14 confounds me. Here is my mother—for twenty-six years I thought I knew her—and now an abyss of horrible mysteries opens before me. You are a doctor; tell me, did you ever know anything so dreadful?"
"Monseigneur," I replied, "the Count of Nideck is afflicted16 with a complaint strikingly similar to that from which your mother appears to have suffered. If you feel enough confidence in me to communicate to me the facts which you have yourself observed, I will gladly tell you what I know myself; for perhaps this exchange of our experiences might supply me with the means to save my patient."
"Willingly, sir," he replied, and without any further prelude17 he informed me that the Baroness18 de Bluderich, a member of one of the noblest families in Saxony, took, every year towards autumn, a journey into Italy, with no attendant besides an old man-servant, who possessed19 her entire confidence; that that man, being at the point of death, had desired a private interview with the son of his old master, and that at that last hour, prompted, no doubt, by the pangs20 of remorse21, he had told the young man that his mother's visit to Italy was only a pretence22 to enable her to make, you observed, a certain excursion into the Black Forest, the object of which was unknown to himself, but which must have had something fearful in its character, since the baroness returned always in a state of physical prostration23, ragged, half dead, and that weeks of rest alone could restore her after the hideous24 labours of those few days.
This was the purport25 of the old servant's disclosures to the young baron, who believed that in so doing he was only fulfilling his duty.
The son, anxious at any sacrifice to know the truth of this account, had, that very year, ascertained26 it, first by following his mother to Baden, and then by penetrating27 on her track into the gorges28 of the Black Forest. The footsteps which Sébalt had tracked in the woods were his.
When the baron had thus imparted his knowledge to me, I thought I ought not to conceal30 from him the mysterious influence which the appearance of the old woman in the neighbourhood of the castle exercised over the count, nor the other circumstances of this unaccountable series of events.
We were both amazed at the extraordinary coincidence between the facts narrated31, the mysterious attraction which these beings unconsciously exercised the one over the other, the tragic32 drama which they performed in union, the familiarity which the old woman had shown with the castle, and its most secret passages, without any previous examination of them; the costume which she had discovered in which to carry out this secret act, and which could only have been rummaged33 out of some mysterious retreat revealed to her by the strange instinct of insanity34. Finally, we were agreed that there are unknown, unfathomed depths in our being, and that the mystery of death is not the only secret which God has veiled from our eyes, although it may seem to us the most important.
But the darkness of night was beginning to yield to the pale tints35 of early dawn. A bat was sounding the departure of the hours of darkness with a singular note resembling the gurgling of liquid from a narrow bottle-neck. A neighing of horses was heard far up the defile36; then, with the first rays of dawn, we distinguished37 a sledge38 driven by the baron's servant; its bottom was littered with straw; on this the body was laid.
I mounted my horse, who seemed not sorry to use his limbs again, which had been numbed39 by standing40 upon ice and snow the whole night through. I rode after the sledge to the exit from the defile, when, after a grave salutation—the usual token of courtesy between the nobility and the people—they drove off in the direction of Hirschland and I rode towards the towers of Nideck.
At nine I was in the presence of Mademoiselle Odile, to whom I gave a faithful narrative41 of all that had taken place.
Then repairing to the count's apartments, I found him in a very satisfactory state of improvement. He felt very weak, as was to be expected after the terrible shocks of such crises as he had gone through, but had returned to the full possession of his clear faculties42, and the fever had left him the evening before. There was, therefore, every prospect43 of a speedy cure.
A few days later, seeing the old lord in a state of convalescence44, I expressed a desire to return to Fribourg, but he entreated45 me so earnestly to stay altogether at Nideck, and offered me terms so honourable46 and advantageous47, that I felt myself unable to refuse compliance48 with his wishes.
I shall long remember the first boar-hunt in which I had the honour to join with the count, and especially the magnificent return home in a torchlight procession after having sat in the saddle for twelve hours together.
I had just had supper, and was going up into Hugh Lupus's tower completely knocked up, when, passing Sperver's room, whose door was half open, shouts and cries of joy reached my ears. I stopped, when the most jovial49 spectacle burst upon me. Around the massive oaken table beamed twenty square rosy50 faces, bright and ruddy with health and fun.
The hob and nobbing of the glasses gave out an incessant51 tinkling52 and clattering53. There was sitting Sperver with his bossy54 forehead, his moustaches bedewed with Rhenish wine, his eyes sparkling, and his grey hair rather disordered; at his right was Marie Lagoutte, on his left Knapwurst. He was raising aloft the ancient silver-gilt and chased goblet56 dimmed with age, and on his manly57 chest glittered the silver plate of his shoulder-belt, for, according to his custom on a hunting day, he was still wearing the uniform of his office.
The colour of Marie Lagoutte's cheeks, rather redder even than usual, told of an evening of jollity, and her broad cap-frills seemed as if they were wanting to fly all abroad; she sat laughing, now with one, then with another.
Knapwurst, squatting58 in his arm-chair, with his head on a level with Sperver's elbow, looked like a big pumpkin59. Then came Tobias Offenloch, so red that you would have thought he had bathed his face in the red wine, leaning back with his wig60 upon the chair-back and his wooden leg extended under the table. Farther on loomed61 the melancholy62 long face of Sébalt, who was peeping with a sickly smile into the bottom of his wine-glass.
Besides these worthies63 there were present the waiting-people, men and women servants, comprising all that little community which springs up around the board of the great people of the land and belongs to them as the ivy64, and the moss65, and the wild convolvulus belong to the monarch66 of the forests.
Upon the groaning67 board lay a vast ham, displaying its concentric circles of pink and white. Then among the gaily-patterned plates and dishes came the long-necked bottles containing the produce of the vineyards that border the broad and flowing Rhine—long German pipes with little silver chains, and long shining blades of steel.
The light of the lamp shed over the whole scene its amber-coloured hue68 and left in the shade the old grey and time-stained walls, where hung in ample numbers the brazen69 convolutions of the hunting-horns and bugles70.
Sperver, as I have already told, was lifting high the full bumper72 and singing the song of Black Hatto, the Burgrave,
"I am king on these mountains of mine,"
while the rosy dew of Affénthal hung trembling from his long moustaches. As soon as he caught sight of me he stopped, and holding out his hand—
"Fritz," said he, "we only wanted you. It is a long time since I felt so comfortable as I do to-night. You are welcome, old boy!"
As I gazed upon him with surprise—for since the death of Lieverlé I had never seen him smile—he added more seriously—
"We are celebrating the return of monseigneur to his health, and Knapwurst is telling us stories."
I was dragged in by Sébalt, seated near Marie Lagoutte, and found a large glass of Bohemian wine in my hand before I could quite understand the meaning of it all.
The old hall was echoing with merry peals75 of laughter, and Sperver, throwing his arm round my neck, holding his cup high, and with an attempt at gravity which showed plainly that the wine was up in his head, he shouted—
"Here is my son! He and I—I and he—until death! Here's the health of Doctor Fritz!"
Knapwurst, standing as high as he was able upon the seat of his arm-chair, not unlike a turnip76 half divided in two, leaned towards me and held me out his glass. Marie Lagoutte shook out the long streamers of her cap, and Sébalt, upright before his chair, as gaunt and lean as the shade of the wild jäger amongst the heather, repeated, "Your health, Doctor Fritz!" whilst the flakes77 of silvery foam78 ran down his cup and floated gently down upon the stone-flagged floor.
Then there was a moment's silence. Every guest drank. Then, with a single clash, every glass was set vigorously down upon the table.
"Bravo!" cried Sperver.
Then turning to me—
"Fritz, we have already drunk to the health of the count and of Mademoiselle Odile; you will do the same."
Twice had I to drain the cup before the vigilant79 eyes of the whole table. Then I too began to look grave. Could it have been drunken gravity? A luminous80 radiance seemed shed on every object; faces stood out brightly from the darkness, and looked more nearly upon me; in truth, there were youthful faces and aged, pretty and ugly, but all alike beamed upon me kindly, and lovingly, and tenderly; but it was the youngest, at the other end of the table, whose bright eyes attracted me, and we exchanged long and wistful glances, full of affection and sympathy!
Sperver kept on humming and laughing. Suddenly putting his hand upon the dwarf81's misshapen back, he cried—
"Silence! Here is Knapwurst, our historian and chronicler! He is preparing to speak. This hump holds all the history of the house of Nideck from the beginning of time!"
The little hunchback, not at all indignant at so ambiguous a compliment, directed his benevolent82 eyes upon the face of the huntsman, and replied—
"You, Sperver, you are one of the reiters whose story I have been telling you. You have the arm, and the courage, and the whiskers of a reiter of old! If that window opened wide, and a reiter was to hold out his hand at the end of his long arm to you, what would you say to him?"
"I would say, 'You are welcome, comrade; sit down and drink. You will find the wine just as good and the girls just as pretty as they were in the days of old Hugh Lupus.' Look!"
And he pointed83 with his glass at the jolly young faces that brightened the farther end of the table.
Certainly the damsels of Nideck were lovely. Some were blushing with pleasure to hear their own praises; others half-veiled their rosy cheeks with their long drooping84 eyelashes, while one or two seemed rather to prefer to display their, sweet blue eyes by raising them to the smoky ceiling. I wondered at my own insensibility that I had never before noticed these fair roses blooming in the towers of the ancient manor85.
"Silence!" cried Sperver for the second time. "Our friend Knapwurst is going to tell us again the legend he related to us just now."
"Won't you have another instead?" asked the hunchback.
"No. I like this best."
"I know better ones than that."
"Knapwurst," insisted the huntsman, raising his finger impressively, "I have reasons for wishing to hear the same again and no other. Cut it shorter if you like. There is a great deal in it. Now, Fritz, listen!"
The dwarf, rather under the influence of the sparkling wine he had taken, rested his elbows on the table, and with his cheeks clutched in his bony fingers, and his eyes starting from his head with his concentrated efforts to speak with becoming seriousness, he cried as if he were publishing a proclamation—
"Bernard Hertzog relates that the burgrave Hugh, surnamed Lupus, or the Wolf, when he was old, used to wear a cowl, which was a kind of knitted cap that covered in the crest86 of the knight's helmet when engaged in fighting. When the helmet tired him he would take it off and put on the knitted cowl, and its long cape87 fell around his shoulders.
"Then he sent for Otto of Burlach, his chaplain, his eldest89 son Hugh, his second son Berthold, and his daughter the red-haired Bertha, wife of a Saxon chief named Bluderich, and said to them—
"'Your mother the she-wolf has bequeathed you her claws; her blood flows, mingled90 with mine, in your veins91. In you the wolf's blood will flow from generation to generation; it shall weep and howl among the snows of the Black Forest. Some will say, "Hark! The wind howls!" others, "No, it is the owl29 hooting92!" But not so; it is your blood, mine and the blood of the she-wolf who drove me to murder Hedwige, my wife before God and the Church. She died under my bloody93 hands! Cursed be the she-wolf! for it is written, "I will visit the sins of the fathers upon the children." The crime of the father shall be visited upon the children until justice shall have been satisfied!'
"Then old Hugh the Wolf died.
"From that dreary94 day the north wind has howled across the wilds, and the owl has hooted95 in the dark, and travellers by night know not that it is the blood of the she-wolf weeping for the day of vengeance96 that will come, whose blood will be renewed from generation to generation—so says Hertzog—until the day when the first wife of Hugh, Hedwige the Fair, shall reappear at Nideck under the form of an angel to comfort and to forgive!"
Then Sperver, rising from his seat, took a lamp and demanded of Knapwurst the keys of the library, and beckoned97 to me to follow him.
We rapidly traversed the long dark gallery, then the armoury, and soon the archive-chamber appeared at the end of the great corridor.
Once or twice I turned round, and could then see with a creeping feeling of dread15 our two long fantastic shadows in ghostly fashion writhing99 in strange distortions upon the high tapestry100.
Sperver quickly opened the old oak door, and with torch uplifted, his hair all bristling101 in disorder55, and excited features, walked in the first. Standing before the portrait of Hedwige, whose likeness102 to the young countess had struck me at our first visit to the library, he addressed me in these solemn words:—
"Here is she who was to return to comfort and pity me! She has returned! At this moment she is downstairs with the old count. Look well, Fritz; do you recognise her? Is it not Odile?"
Then turning to the picture of Hugh's second wife—
"There," he said, "is Huldine, the she-wolf. For a thousand years she has wept in the deep gorges amongst the pine forests of the Schwartzwald; she was the cause of the death of poor Lieverlé; but henceforward the lords of Nideck may rest securely, for justice is done, and the good angel of this lordly house has returned!"
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1
cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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2
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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10
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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baroness
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| n.男爵夫人，女男爵 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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prostration
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| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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26
ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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28
gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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advantageous
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| adj.有利的；有帮助的 | |
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compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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52
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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bossy
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| adj.爱发号施令的，作威作福的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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58
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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worthies
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| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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64
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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turnip
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| n.萝卜，芜菁 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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102
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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