p. She was on a journey into
Hungary, and claimed the hospitality of the castle on her way there. Both
were widows. Well, it was a quarter to twelve. The Electress dropped back
on her pillow, as she always did when she had finished the candle.
Isentrude covered her over, heaped up logs on the fire, wrapped her
dressing-gown about her, and prepared to sleep. It was Winter, and the
wind howled at the doors, and rattled the windows, and shook the
arras--Lord help us! Outside was all snow, and nothing but forest; as you
saw when you came to me there, Gretelchen. Twelve struck. Isentrude was
dozing; but she says that after the last stroke she woke with cold. A
foggy chill hung in the room. She looked at the Electress, who had not
moved. The fire burned feebly, and seemed weighed upon: Herr Je!--she
thought she heard a noise. No. Quite quiet! As heaven preserve her, says
slip, the smell in that room grew like an open grave, clammily putrid.
Holy Virgin! This time she was certain she heard a noise; but it seemed
on both sides of her. There was the great door leading to the first
landing and state-room; and opposite exactly there was the panel of the
secret passage. The noises seemed to advance as if step by step, and grew
louder in each ear as she stood horrified on the marble of the hearth.
She looked at the Electress again, and her eyes were wide open; but for
all Isentrude's calling, she would not wake. Only think! Now the noise
increased, and was a regular tramp-grate, tramp-screw sound-coming nearer
and nearer: Saints of mercy! The apartment was choking with vapours.
Isentrude made a dart, and robed herself behind a curtain of the bed just
as the two doors opened. She could see through a slit in the woven work,
and winked her eyes which she had shut close on hearing the scream of the
door-hinges--winked her eyes to catch a sight for moment--we are such
sinful, curious creatures!--What she saw then, she says she shall never
forget; nor I! As she was a living woman, there she saw the two dead
princes, the Prince Palatine of Bohemia and the Elector of Bavaria,
standing front to front at the foot of the bed, all in white armour, with
drawn swords, and attendants holding pine-torches. Neither of them spoke.
Their vizors were down; but she knew them by their arms and bearing: both
tall, stately presences, good knights in their day, and had fought
against the Infidel! So one of them pointed to the bed, and then a torch
was lowered