confessor and friend stepped into the apartment.
Hubert was an aged man, learned and pious, and well skilled, it was
believed, in cabalistic science. He had buried three Gottmars, and
received their last confessions. From these he had drawn conjectures
and conclusions which induced him to investigate the traditions
current amongst the people respecting his unhappy patrons; and out of
all, he was able at last to form a picture of probability, to the
completeness of which some demonstrative evidence of its truth was
wanting. At the period of which I speak--it was still before the
Reformation--books were held in slender esteem. Nevertheless, there
was a library in Gottmar castle, consisting of numerous manuscripts,
the production of monks, and chiefly on religious subjects. The lords
of the castle, engaged in the chase, in fishing, and other knightly
pastimes, had not, from time out of mind, disturbed the repose of
their written treasures. They lay piled one upon another, covered with
dust, mildewed, and worm-eaten. Hubert, in the prosecution of his
purpose, did not fail to examine the neglected documents; and he had
reason to rejoice at his labours, when he found amongst the rolls a
learned treatise on astrology, a science which he himself had studied
with unwearied industry and ardour. His joy and astonishment, however,
were not complete, until he found himself master of a decaying
parchment, which, in almost obsolete characters, expounded to his
eager senses the mysterious destiny of the house of Gottmar. He hugged
the knowledge to his soul, deciphered the ancient syllables in his own
quiet cell, and waited for the proper hour to communicate the
marvellous secret to his lord and pupil. He heard the complainings of
the youthful Bolko, and he recognised in them a hint from heaven. He
now approached him with tenderness, and pressed his pupil's hand.

"'Courage, my son!' said he. 'The veil is withdrawn.'

"Bolko drew a heavy sigh.

"'I have spoken the truth, my child!' continued Hubert. 'Believe and
trust!'

"'Thanks for thy kind words, good Hubert,' replied the youth. 'I
revere thy wisdom, I esteem thy love. How shall I believe that it has
been permitted thee to break open the gloomy vaults of the past?'

"'And yet if this were so! If an auspicious--a heaven-sent chance'--

"'Hubert!'

"'Hast thou courage, Bolko, to penetrate into the past?--Then read
this roll attentively. It offers us the means, as I most solemn