CHAPTER IX.
The lord of Nideck was in a dying state.
What can science do in presence of the great mortal strife betweenDeath and Life? At the supreme hour, when the invisible wrestlers arewrithed together body to body and limb to limb, panting, each in turnoverthrowing and overthrown, what avails the healing art? One can butwatch, and tremble, and listen!
At times the struggle seems suspended--a truce has sounded; Life hasretired into her hold. She is resting; she is collecting the courage ofdespair. But the relentless enemy beats at the gates; he bursts in; thenLife springs to the rescue, and again grapples with her adversary. Thestrife is renewed with fresh fuel added to the fire of mortal energy asthe fatal issue draws closer and nearer.
And the exhausted patient, himself the field of battle, weltering in thecold sweat of death, the eye set and the arm powerless, can do nothingfor himself. His breathing, sometimes short, broken, and distressing,sometimes long, deep, laboured, and heavy, indicates the varying phasesof this dreadful struggle.
The bystanders watch each other's faces, and they think, "The day willcome when we in our turns shall be the field of the same strife, andvictorious Death will bear us away into the grave, his den, as the spidercarries away the fly." But the true life, the only life, the soul,spreading her immortal wings, will speed her flight to another world,with the exulting cry, "I have fought the good fight. I have finished mycourse. I have kept the faith!" And Death, disappointed of its prey, willlook up at the emancipated being, unable to follow, and holding in itsclutches only a cold and decaying corpse, soon to be a handful of dust."O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" O best andonly consolation, the hope and belief in the final triumph of justice,the certainty of immortal life through Jesus Christ the Saviour! Cruelindeed is he who would rob man of the chief brightness and glory of life!
Towards midnight the Count of Nideck seemed almost gone; the agony ofdeath was at hand; the broken, weakened pulse indicated the sinking ofthe vital powers; then, it might return to a more active state; but thereseemed no hope.
My only duty left was to stay and see this unhappy man die.
I was exhausted with fatigue and anxiety; whatever art could do I hadtried.
I told Sperver to sit up, and close his master's eyes in death. The poorfaithful fellow was in the utmost distress; he reproached himself withhis involuntary cry--"Count of Nideck--what are you doing?" and tore hishair in bitter repentance.
I went away alone to Hugh Lupus's tower, having had scarcely any time totake food, but I did not feel the want of it.
There was a bright fire on the hearth; I threw myself dressed upon thebed, and sleep soon came to relieve my weight of apprehension--that heavysleep broken by the consciousness that you may any minute be awoke bytears and lamentations.
I was sleeping thus, with my face turned towards the fire, and as itoften happens, the flame fitfully rising, and falling threw a fluttering,flickering light like those of ruddy flapping wings against the walls,and wearied still more my dropping eyelids.
Lost in a dreamy slumber, I was half opening my eyes to see the cause ofthese alternate lights and shadows, but the strangest sight surprised me.
Close by the hearth, hardly revealed by the feeble light of a few dyingembers, I recognised with dismay the dark profile of the Black Plague!
She sat upon a low stool, and was evidently warming herself.
At first I thought myself deceived by my senses, which would have beennatural enough after the exciting scenes of the last few days; I raisedmyself upon my elbow, gazing with my eyes starting with fear and horror.
It was she indeed! I lay horrified, for there she sat calm and immovable,with her hands clasped over her skinny knees, just as I had seen her inthe snow, with her long scraggy neck outstretched, her hooked nose, hercompressed lips.
How had the Black Pest got here? How had she found her way into this hightower crowning the dangerous precipices? Everything that Sperver had toldme of this mysterious being seemed to be coming true! And now theunaccountable behaviour of Lieverle, growling so fiercely against thewall, seemed clear as the daylight. I huddled myself close up into thealcove, hardly daring to breathe, and staring upon this motionlessprofile just as a mouse out of its hole fixes its paralysed stare uponthe cat that is watching for it.
The old woman stirred no more than the rock-hewn pillars on each side ofthe hearthstone, and her lips were mumbling inarticulate sounds.
My heart was palpitating, my fears increased momentarily during the longsilence, made more startling by the motionless supernatural figure thatsat there before me.
This had lasted a quarter of an hour when, the fire catching a splinterof fir-wood, a flash of light broke out, the shaving twisted and flamed,and a few rays of light flared to the end of the room.
That luminous jet was sufficient to show me that the creature was clothedin an old dress of rich purple silk as stiff as cardboard, with a violetpattern; there was a massive bracelet upon her left wrist, and a goldarrow stuck through her thick grey hair twisted over the back of herhead. It was like an apparition out of the ages past.
Still the Plague could have had no hostile intentions towards me, orshe might easily have taken advantage of my sleep to have put them inexecution.
That thought was beginning to give me some confidence, when suddenly sherose from her seat and with slow steps approached my bed, holding in herhand a torch which she had just lighted. I then observed that her eyeswere fixed and haggard.
I made an effort to rise and cry aloud, but not a muscle of my body wouldobey my wishes, not a breath came to my lips; and the old woman, bendingover me between the curtains, fixed her stony stare upon me with astrange unearthly smile. I wanted to call for help, I wanted to drive herfrom me, but her petrifying stare seemed to fascinate and paralyse me,just as that of the serpent fixes the little bird motionless before it.
During this speechless contemplation minutes seemed like hours. What wasshe about to do? I was ready for any event.
Suddenly she turned her head, went round upon her heel, listened, strodeacross the room, and opened the door.
At last I recovered a little courage; an effort of the will brought me tomy feet as if I were acted on by a spring; I darted after her footsteps;she with one hand was holding her torch on high, and with the other keptthe door open.
I was about to seize her by the hair, when at the end of the longgallery, under the Gothic archway of the castle leading to the ramparts,I saw--a tall figure.
It was the Count of Nideck!
The Count of Nideck, whom I had thought a dying man, clad in a hugewolf-skin thrown with its upper jaw projecting grimly over his eyes likea visor, the formidable claws hanging over each shoulder, and the taildragging behind him along the flags.
He wore stout heavy shoes, a silver clasp gathered the wolf-skin roundhis neck, and his whole aspect, but for the ice-cold deathly expressionof his face, proclaimed the man born for command--the master!
In the presence of such an imposing personage my ideas became vague andconfused. Flight was no longer possible, yet I had the presence of mindto throw myself into the embrasure of the window.
The count entered my room with his eyes fixed on the old woman and hisfeatures unrelaxed. They spoke to one another in hoarse whispers, so lowthat I could not distinguish a word. But there was no mistaking theirgestures. The woman was pointing to the bed.
They approached the fireplace on tiptoe. There in the dark shadow of therecess at its side the Black Plague, with a horrible smile, unrolled alarge bag.
As soon as the count saw the bag he made a bound towards the bed andkneeled upon it with one knee; there was a shaking of the curtains, hisbody disappeared beneath their folds, and I could only see one leg stillresting on the floor, and the wolf's tail undulating irregularly fromside to side.
They seemed to be acting a murder in ghastly pantomime. No real scene,however frightful, could have agitated me more than this muterepr
esentation of some horrible deed.
Then the old woman ran to his assistance, carrying the bag with her.Again the curtains shook and the shadows crossed the walls; but the mosthorrible of all was that I fancied I saw a pool of blood creeping acrossthe floor and slowly reaching the hearth. But it was only the snow thathad clung to the count's boots, and was melting in the heat.
I was still gazing upon this dark stream, feeling my dry tongue cleave tothe roof of my mouth, when there was a great movement; the old woman andthe count were stuffing the sheets of the bed into the sack, they werethrusting and stamping them in with just the same haste as a dogscratching at a hole, then the lord of Nideck flung this unshapely bundleover his shoulder and made for the door; a sheet was dragging behind him,and the old woman followed him torch in hand. They went across the court.
My knees were almost giving way under me; they knocked together for fear.I prayed for strength.
In a couple of minutes I was on their footsteps, dragged forward by asudden irresistible impulse.
I crossed the court at a run, and was just going to enter the door of thetower when I perceived a deep but narrow pit at my feet, down which wenta winding staircase, and there far below I could see the torch describinga spiral course around the stone rail like a little star; at last it waslost in the distance.
Now I also descended the first steps of this newly-discovered staircase,directing my course after this distant light; suddenly it vanished. Theold woman and the count had reached the bottom of the precipice.Supported by the stone rail I continued my descent, safe to be able tomount again if I found my further progress stopped.
Soon I came to the last step; I looked around me, and discovered on myleft hand a narrow streak of moonlight shining under a low door, throughthe nettles and brambles; I kicked a way through these obstacles,clearing the snow away with my feet, and then found that I was at thevery foot of the keep--Hugh's donjon tower.
Who would have supposed that such a hole would have led up into thecastle? Who had shown it to the old woman? I did not stay to satisfymyself on these points.
The vast plain lay spread before me bathed in a light almost equal tothat of day. On the right lay extended wide the dark line of the BlackForest with its craggy rocks, its gullies, its passes stretching away asfar as the sight could reach.
The night air was keen and sharp, but perfectly calm, and I felt myselfawakened to the highest degree, almost as if my senses were volatilisedby the still and ice-cold air.
My first examination of the horizon was for the figures of the countand his strange companion. I soon distinguished their tall dark formsstanding out sharply against the star-spangled purple heavens. I nearlyovertook them at the bottom of the ravine.
The count was moving with deliberate steps, the imaginary winding-sheetdragging slowly after him. There was an automatic precision in themovements of both.
I kept six or eight yards behind them down the hollow road to theAltenberg, now in the shade, now in the full light, for the moon wasshining with astonishing brilliancy. A few clouds floated idly across thezenith, seeming to want to clasp her in their long arms, but she evereluded their grasp, and her rays, keen as a blade of steel, cut me to themarrow of my bones.
I could have wished to turn back, but some invisible power impelled meonwards to follow this funeral procession in pantomime. Even to this dayI fancy still I can see the rough mountain path through the Black Forest,I can hear the crisp snow crackling under foot, and the dead leavesrustling in the light north wind; I can see myself following those twosilent beings, but I cannot understand what mysterious power drew me intheir footsteps.
At last we reach the forest, and advance amongst the tall bare-branched,beeches; the dark shadows of their higher boughs intersect the lowerbranches, and fall broken upon the snow-encumbered road. Sometimes Ifancy I can hear steps behind me; I turn sharply round, but can see noone.
We had just reached the long rocky ridge that forms the crest of theAltenberg; behind it flows the torrent of the Schneeberg, but in winterno current is visible; scarcely does a mere thread of its blue waterstrickle under the thick crust of ice. Here the deep solitude is broken byno murmuring brooks, no warblings of birds, no thunder of the waterfall.In the vast unbroken solitudes the awful silence is terrible.
The Count of Nideck and the old woman found a gap in the face of therock, up which they mounted straight with marvellous celerity, whilst Ihad to pull myself up by the help of the bushes.
Hardly had they reached the ridge of the crags, which came almost to apoint, when I was within three yards of them, and I beheld beyond adreadful precipice of which I could not see the bottom. At the left hungin the air like a vast sheet the fall of the Schneeberg, a mass of ice.That resemblance to an immense wave taking the precipice at one bound,bearing trees on its breast, fringed with the bushes, and winding out thelong ivy sprays, which exhibit in their delicate tracery the form of therigid glassy billow; that mere semblance of movement amidst the stillnessand immovableness of death, and the presence of those two speechlesscreatures pursuing their ghastly work with automatic precision, added tothe terror with which I already trembled.
Nature herself seemed to shrink with horror.
The count had laid down his burden; the old woman and he took it uptogether, swung it for a moment over the edge of the precipice, then thelong shroud floated over the abyss, and the imaginary murderers insilence bent forward to see it fall.
That long white sheet floating in the air is still present before myeyes. It descends, it falls like a wild swan shot in the clouds,spreading its wide wings, the long neck thrown back, whirling down toearth to die.
The white burden disappeared in the dark depths of the precipice.
At last the cloud which I had long seen threatening to cover the moon'sbright disc veiled her in its steel-blue folds, and her rays ceased toshine.
The old woman, holding the count by the hand and dragging him forwardwith hurried steps, came for a moment into view.
The cloud had overshadowed the moon, and I could not move out of theirway without danger of falling over the precipice.
After a few minutes, during which I lay as close as I could, there was arift in the cloud. I looked out again. I stood alone on the point of thepeak with the snow up to my knees.
Full of horror and apprehension, I descended from my perilous position,and ran to the castle in as much consternation as if I had been guilty ofsome great crime.
As for the lord of Nideck and his companion, I lost sight of them.