Carl Gottlieb Samuel Heun

“ I fancied as I gazed upon them in silent horror, that I could distinguish two human skulls within their barred helmets, and, ejaculating I know not what, I turned round and darted into the corridor, hurling after me the iron door with such force as to detach the picture of the poisoned nun from the wall above, and it fell behind me with a noise which increased no little my consternation. Overturning the candle in my rapid progress, I rushed along the corridor in utter darkness, until I found my speed arrested by some one pulling vigorously at my dressing-gown. ”

“ The day had been intensely hot; some menacing clouds in the southern horizon indicated an approaching storm, and, as we ascended the staircase leading to the corridor, the deep, low muttering of distant thunder was audible from the mountains.
“And do you really mean to sleep every night in the ‘Robber’s Tower,’ Major?” said the old man, as he placed my portmanteau, sabre, and pistols, on a chair in the Gothic parlour.
“Certainly, my good Caspar! and why not?” I replied.
“I would only say,” answered he, “that you must have more courage than I have; and yet a Bohemian gamekeeper is no coward. ”

“ Feeling how premature would be all attempts at consolation, I gradually led my aunt and cousin to discourse of the departed Cecilia, and had ere long the pleasure to see them more tranquil, and able to speak of her with comparative firmness and resignation. From their conversation I gathered that she was perfectly conscious of her approaching death, but was nevertheless apprehensive of premature interment, and earnestly besought her mother to have the vault under the large round tower converted into a sepulchre, and to place there her unscrewed coffin in an open sarcophagus. ”

“ The combat was continued with unabated energy, and the ringing sound of swords and armour now evidently proceeded from the armoury, towards which I was cautiously advancing, when another peal of grating and Satanic laughter made me pause in shivering astonishment. At this moment the storm-clouds, which had been for some time concentrating, burst in fury over the ruins; the rain fell in heavy torrents, and an intensely vivid flash of lightning was instantaneously succeeded by a monstrous burst of thunder, which shook the old castle to its foundations. ”

“ The pale and care-worn features of my aunt and cousin relaxed into frequent smiles as I pursued my strange narrative, and the ludicrous climax of my adventure with the two gardeners created even a hearty laugh at my expense. When I had concluded, the lovely Julia repaired the awful damage inflicted on my dressing-gown, and my aunt made me a present of the formidable portrait of the hapless Leah; the removal of which, she said, would alone convince the villagers that the unhappy original no longer walked the castle at midnight. ”

“ Then did the Grand Master exclaim, with a loud voice; ‘As there is no accuser, there can be no judgment. Does no man accuse the dead?’
“And all the Templars knelt down and answered, ‘God is our judge.’ The Grand Master now raised an iron hammer, struck with it three heavy blows upon an iron cross, placed at the head of the coffin, and called aloud, ‘Open the gates of Death!’”
I had read thus far, when I heard three knocks, which sounded seemingly from the corridor. ”

“ Soon as I could regain the power of volition, I returned to my apartment in the tower, more perplexed than ever with the rapid succession of extraordinary and startling incidents which I had encountered in this mysterious old castle. “Surely,” I began to think, “if the dead are permitted to revisit this earth, this is the very hour and place in which to expect them.” My wonted freedom from all superstitious fancies still, however, struggled with this thickening evidence of supernatural agency, and, opening the window, I looked out to observe if any light was again visible from the sepulchre ”

“ The consciousness of utter solitude, at such an hour, and in such a place, began to infect me with the superstitious fears of old Caspar, and the solemn stillness of the lofty and dimly lighted Gothic room, interrupted only by an occasional and distant roll of thunder, made me feel something very like repentance, that I had exchanged the modern mansion of my aunt for this old robber’s nest on a mountain crag. ”

“ A deep unbroken silence prevailed throughout the assemblage, and, after a long pause, the senior Knight Preceptor advanced to the head of the coffin, begged permission to speak, and thus began:
“‘Brother Grand Master!
“‘Brother Preceptors, Companions, and Novices!
“‘It belongs not unto man, but unto God, to judge the dead. He alone can reward and punish—he alone can look into our souls, and know our most secret doings. ”

“ They acknowledged, too, that they had been no little terrified when they saw a tall figure in white, with a naked sabre, enter the armoury; that, however, they had gathered courage from my sudden retreat, and, beginning to suspect that I was a robber, had pursued and recognised me. I had found, also, a clue to the mysterious sobs and lamentations in the corridor, while endeavouring to separate my dressing-gown from the latch, during which operation the creaking hinges of the stove door, not having been oiled for many years, emitted the wailing, groaning sounds which had made my blood run cold. ”

“ During the struggle which released Germany from the iron grasp of Napoleon, I had stared death in the face too often to fear any danger from human agency, and a liberal education in Prussia had raised me above any apprehension of supernatural sounds and appearances ”

“ While still examining the stove, another tremendous blast shook the corridor, and the storm-gust, rushing down the capacious chimney, burst open the heavy iron door, which fell back against the iron catch, and rebounding twice with the shock, explained very naturally the fancied hammer-blows of the Grand Master upon the iron cross: the expiring gust then moving the door more gently on its rusty hinges, made them wail and creak as before ”

“ A beautiful infant boy lay dead and bleeding at her feet—wild despair and delirious agony spoke in every feature of the kneeling mother, and contrasted strangely with the lifeless, stony look of the image above. ”

“ In the last, especially, the artist had produced an effect as powerful as it was appropriate and true. Observing how much I was struck by this old picture, my aunt told me that a clue to the subject had been found in an old family chronicle, written by the successive castle-chaplains. The prostrate knight was the valiant Bruno of Rothfels, who was killed in single combat about three hundred years since by Gotthard, then lord of the “Robber’s Tower.” The dying man was unhelmed, and his life-blood, issuing from a wide gash across his throat, had flowed in torrents over his breastplate. ”

“ The old man then lighted my tapers with his lantern, commended me cordially to the protection of Heaven, and departed, leaving me considerably less pleased with my quarters than when I had seen them by the rich and cheering light of sunset. ”

“ The old soldiers, whose long campaigning had not much abated their dread of the supernatural, were afraid to mount guard alone in the armoury, and had agreed to watch there together; but, unable to sleep during the storm, had challenged each other to a game at broadsword, by way of killing the time, and, to heighten the joke, had donned two suits of the old armour which hung round the walls of the armoury. The steward was not aware of my intention to occupy the apartments in the tower ”