d not speak one word upon the
subject, excusing herself by saying that if she uttered one word
respecting it great evil would ensue to her. When, however, they
pressed her more strictly, she discovered to them all that had
happened to her in the Fiery Castle, even to the smallest particular.
In an instant, almost before her relation was fully ended, she was
carried away, and no one could ever learn whither she fled.

A year or two afterwards, a young nobleman, a knight, and one well
experienced in all things, took up his abode in those parts. In order
that he might ascertain the issue of this affair, he set out on foot
with his servant in the middle of the night on the road to the
mountain. With great difficulty they made the ascent, and were on
their way warned six times by an unknown voice to desist from their
attempt.

They kept on, however, heedless of this caution, and at length
reached the door of the castle. There again stood the soldier as a
sentinel, and he called out as usual--

"Who goes there?"

The nobleman, who was bold of heart, gave for answer--

"It is I."

Upon this the spirit inquired further--

"Who art thou?"

This time the nobleman made no answer, but desired his servant to hand
him his sword. When this was done, a black horseman came riding out of
the castle, against whom the nobleman would have waged battle. The
horseman, however, dragged him up upon his horse and rode with him
into the courtyard, while the soldier chased the servant down the
mountain. The nobleman was never more seen.

THE MONKS AT THE FERRY.

From time immemorial a ferry has existed from Andernach to the
opposite side of the Rhine. Formerly it was more in use than at
present, there being then a greater intercourse between the two shores
of the river, much of which might be traced to the Convent of St.
Thomas, once the most important and flourishing nunnery on the river.

Close by this ferry, on the margin of the Rhine, but elevated somewhat
above the level of the water, stands a long, roofless, ruinous
building, the remains of the castle of Friedrichstein, better known,
however, to the peasantry, and to all passengers on the river, as the
Devil's House. How it came by this suspicious appellative there are
many traditions to explain. Some say that the Prince of Neuwied, who
erected it, so ground down his subjects for its construction, that
they unanimously gave it that name. Others derive its popular
_sob