LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1848, 24 January 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE LADY OF Vv'INDECK.

The last of the mighty race of Wicdeck, famed for brave men and lovelv women, was Adclhcid, heiress of tho castle and broad lands that had been owned by her ancestors, and, so far as beauty went, she was worthy of her lineage, but of a proud and hangh' y temper. So proud was she that among all the nobles of Brisgau she could find none whom she thought werthy to call her lord ; and year after year passed on, finding her still nnwedded, and every year some unfortunate lover or ether was turned from the castle with looks of scorn and words of ridicule. Among those whom she had, after her fashion, first attached to her by every art, and afterwards repelled with bitter derision, was a young man of noble family, but slender fortune, who had long been in her service as pa,>e or rquire, a 3 the fashion of those days demanded.

After year 3 of pr»tiont waiting and hope, the youth ventured to declare himself, and was received by the lady with a storm of sarcasm that literally overwhelmed him. Stung to the heart by her hard speeches, and by the sense of hi 3 own folly and presumption, which suddenly poured in npon him like a flood, he left his mistress' presence only to write a word of farewell to his mc-thor, whose only son hs sacl whom

I he tenderly loved, then threw himself into the Rhite,

A few days afterward a woman,maddened with rage and sorrow, a widow whose only s n had died a suiciele'a death, sought tho Lady Adelheid in her castle on the till, accused her of being tho murdnre3S of her boy, and heaped upon her head the bittcrrst curses that her outraged mother heart could devise or her woman's tongue utter. • Unloved you shall livo,' she cried,' ' nnregretted die. Even in the grave you shall find no peace; even there my curse shall follow you, and send yon forth to wander, a restless, miserable ghost—restle.s forever!'

' Ah!' cried the Lady Adelheid, with white face and scared eye», all her hanghtinese rlown, 'do not utter such terrible worels ! Have you no mercy V Tho wretched mother smiled grimly, 'Yes I will have she said. ' Thus shall your spirit wander through these very halls until you find a lover as true, as honest, as pure hearted as my poor, lost son, wiring to woo the phantom for bis bride. Then only you shall rest in peace.' Under this curse, says the legend, the lady of Wind ck lived and died. iSh* was the last of her race, and not many years after her death, the castle, uninhabited anel deserted fell into ruins. Its new owners had indeed trade many attempt* to inhabit It, but had been absolutely driven out of the place by the unearthly sonnels which disturbed the stillness of the night, and which scarcely allowed a living soul in the building, so much as to close an eye from midnight to cockcrow. I)oo;s would open and shut mysteriously, footsteps resound through the silent corridors, lights, illumined by no visible hand, suddenly burnt in the windows, while over every mirror in the 1.0-aee the shadowy form of a woman, clothed in white, with long black hair hanging below her shoulders, would be seen—would pass elisappearing in one place only to appear the next moment in another.

It happened, however, that one day a young hunter cf noble family, a stranger guest in one of the neighboring castles, was led, in the excitement of the chase, up to the tho very gate of the deserted mansion. The deer which he was pursuing rushed by him into the very ruins, us though it were taking sinctnary. The young man, by name Kurt Von Stein, had heard some curious legends as connected with a ruined oastle on the height, and possibly half from curiosity and half because he was hot and tired with a day of especially poor sport, he dismounted and led his horse, tired like himself, through the brambles and brashes that had overgrown the ruined gateway, into the grass-grown courtyard; ' A curious place, to be sure,' said the young man, seating himself for a moment's rest on a fallen mass of brick work overlaid with moss, and letting his horse mea. time graze at his will from the rank growth of the courtyard. 'A very curious place. Looks as if no one had been here fur a hundred years. I wonder if this can be the haunted castle my uncle was speaking about only the other night? If so, I wish to goodness the spirit lady would have the hospitality to welcome me to her domains, and offsr me a drink of something this hot day.' And as ho took off his hunting cap to air his heated brow, his thoughts reverted lovingly to a certain glass tankard in his uncle's house, which, when filled with yellow Strasburg beer, was about as pleasant a sight to Kurt von Stein as the world could well offer. After a while the idea occurred to the young man that as chance had brought him to the castle, he mijjht as well pay his reBpests to the owner of it, whether she were a phantom or not. A turret stair, broken and worn, was close at hand to the spot which he h'-d choten for a resting-place. Twilight was beginning to fall as he reached the castle ; now, suddenly, darkness seemed to have come, and js lie mounted the winding turret stairs he noticed that lights were already showing through many of the windows of what appeared to be a less ruinous part of the building than that by which he had entered ' That is all right,' said Kurt to himßelf. ' I was wise to try my fortane here. A supper, or even a bed, would not come amiss to me, for I scarcely know how I shall find my way back to my uncle's house to night. But at any rate I shall get some directions, and, perhaps if the people are over hospitable, a guide home.' So saying, he made his way up to the staircase, and knocked at a door which was at the top of it. The door opened noiselessly, as though by an unseen hand, and ad mitt ad him Into a locg corridor, lighted and adorned with white marble statues. From this he passed into a suite of rooms hung with tapestry, and strewn with freshly laid rushes, with a few carred settles and chests for furniture. Still he met no one.

Next he came into a great hall on the walla of which hnng a number of antique portraits, while in the centre of the apartment was a table spread as if for sapper. * This is very curious,' said Kurt to himself. ' Where can the family be gone to ? However, one comfort is, they've got something to eat. I think I'll wait here and give them a chance of inviting ma.' So saying, he tat quietly down at one end of the table, which was laid for two persons. Scarcely had he done so when the door opened noiselessly and a lady, young and beautiful, but with a somewhat sad and pale face, entered the room. Kurt rose and at once began to make apologies for hi 3 unwarrantable intrusion. The lady waved a white hand toward him and bade him be seated. ' Say no more,' she said, in a sweet, sad voice. ' I expected you.' There was evidently some mistake here, thought Kurt, but as the mistake seemei to mean a good supper, he was not unwilling to fall into it. He at once took a seat at the table, and the lady took hers opposite him. She was certainly very beautiful, he thought, as he looked again at her over the brimming wine cup Ihe wine, too, was excellent ; st was the whole repast—at which the lady waited upon him with her own fair hands—the only peculiarity about it being that neither bread nor sait was to be found on the table, but Kurt von Stein was too much of a gentleman to notice the omission, though he certainly enjoyed his supper the le:s by reason of their absence. At length the young man ventured to aßk one or two questions of his kindly hostess. "May I inquire,' he said, * are you, fair,, the daughter of the house ?' ' Ye»,' waq the answer given, as it seemed, sadly and low. ' And your pareuts 1' ' Thay are there,' said the lady pointing to the pictures on the walls. * Do you mean to say that you live in this house alone ?' asked Von Stein.

• Alone,' returned tho lady. ' I am the last of my race.' Who shall say how it came about ?- The lady was beautiful, the man was young. In such case love is sometimes found to-bo a plant that does not take long in growing. Moreover, Sttio, though noble, was poor, and tho lady the last of her race, tho heiress of an ancient lineage. Possibly the notion of tbe inheritance the lonely girl might bring with hea had some part in the sudden passion which filled the man's heart. Who can tell ?

It was not long before he found himeelf kneeling at hor feet and offering the beautiful maiden all he had to offer—his devotion and his life

The lady listened silent" y with bowed head to his ardent pleading. Then she said, looking up, but away from him, and spanking absently : ' I have heard those words before.'

* But never from lips so true, so honest, so disinterested,' said the yourg man warmly, forgetting in his fascinat'on for the beautiful lady how he had certainly taken her inheritance into account in the first place. The lady sighed and was silent. Then she spoke—' If I yield to your wishes, wo must be married at onc9.'

' At once!' cried Von lutein, perhaps a little startled. Yet what lover ever found the time between betrothal and rnarrisge too short. ' I am ready,' he said, gallantly, ■ impatient.' Tho lady uniled, moved r-oftly away to an old worm-eaten chest which wa3 set agsitibt the wa'l, took from it two rings, and a white veil and crown of myrtle, which she laid upon hor dark flowing hair. Her dress was white.

' Come,' she said to her lover, and led ihe

w.»y. A little bewildered, after the fashion of bridegrooms in general, and scarcely knowing whether to be happy or alarmed, the young man iollowed his bride through, aa it seemed to him miles of dimly vaulted passages, where the damp waa trickling do v-ii the walls, and where untliought-of st ps, up and down, were roady at any

mofnent to trip np the unwary pasaer. The lady, however, seemed to be we)l acquainted with erery tnrn and twist of the plains, and giving hsr hand to her lover, Eho led him on atop Ly step natil at length they reached a vaulted chamber, which they had no aconer entered than a greii iron door shut heavily behind thera, with a sound that ecbired throngh every aroh of the dimiy-lighted bui'd rg It wad the chapel. ' Your hand 13 eoW, my love,' said the young man, tsnderly, to his bride. '.No matter, yours has warmth and life enough for both,' returned the lady. Yet the life seemed actually to ebb from the young man's heart as he observed the stone figure of a bishop, which was sculptured on a gravessone in the centre of the position and walk up the steps of the altar. The eyes of the bishop flamed like glowworms;, the candles upon the altar lighted of themselves, and the tones of an organ rolled solemnly through the vaulted building. ' ICurt von &>tein, will thou take the Lady of '*> indeok for thy lawful wife Y said the bishop in low, sepulchral tones, which sounded as-though not he, but some mufiJod voice a dozrn yards away, were 3peaking. At this moment the whole h-rror of the scene seemed to break upon the young man. Around him, slowly rising from their graves he saw the shrouded forms and flesh! es 3 faces of the dead, who ca-ne as witness's to the ghostly marriage. Even the face of his brido as his faecinated eyes fixed upon it, wore the livid hue of death. He turned in agony to fly from the horrible scene, tried to enatch his hand from the cold, hard grip of the phantom-lady, fell,, as he believed, senseless upon the chapel floor —and awoke to find himself, at dawn of day, lying at his full length on the mossgrown stone wh?re he had sat to reßt the night before, at the castle door, and his horse intent upon an early meal on the rank herbage of the graasgrown conr* - .

When he told his tale in the village and at the neighboring castles, no one in the least doubted that he had almost, if not quite, laid the unquiet spirit of the Lady of Windeck.