power seemed to draw him
onwards. The old men led them to the castle chapel. Lights already
burned on the high altar; monuments of gleaming white marble, ornamented
with weapons and golden inscriptions, rose on all sides. It was before
one of these that the lady stopped; the iron figure of a bishop rested
on it; the eyes were closed, the hands folded. She touched the figure;
it instantly rose, and the eyes sparkled, as you may have seen the
northern lights sparkle through the keen air of a winter night. He went
to the altar, and standing before the bridal pair, said, in a deep and
solemn voice--

"`Say, Sir Kurd von Stein, will you wed with the noble and honourable
Lady Bertha von Windeck?'

"As the leaves of the aspen and tremulous poplar shiver when a chilly
breeze touches them, so trembled the knight as the lady passed her arm
round him. He tried to say--he did not quite know what; but he could
not utter a sound, his very blood seemed curdled in his veins. Hark!--
the crowing of a cock. A storm swept through the chapel, and the castle
trembled to its very foundations. In an instant all had vanished, and
Sir Kurd sank down in a swoon. On coming to himself, he lay--where?
Amongst the long grass in the castle court, under the spreading branches
of the silver pine, and by his side stood his faithful charger, while
the cold grey light of morning began to appear in the east.

"`Was it a dream? Did I really see these awful sights?' said the knight
to himself; and still the cock crew on.

"Sir Kurd mounted his horse, quickly left the castle, and, without
looking behind him, rode towards the spot where the cock was yet
crowing. He soon reached a hospitable farm-house, standing amongst the
meadows in the valley, by the side of a clear stream. Here he
dismounted, just as the sun rose, and while partaking of a hearty
breakfast, of which he stood in great need, he related to the farmer all
his adventures of the past night, who, in his turn, told many others of
the same sort. Sir Kurd found that his servant had been unable to reach
the castle to which he had sent him, and had spent the night at the
farm; so they soon after started together, the knight feeling most
thankful to be rid of his ghostly bride."

Charles's story met with perhaps more applause even than it deserved.
He confessed that it was a very free translation of a German tale he had
read somewhere, but it was not admired the less for all that.

T