THE MYSTERY OF THE MOATED-SCHLOSS. (From "All the Year Round.")

Tuapeka Times, Volume II, Issue 69, 5 June 1869, Page 6

THE MYSTERY OF THE MOATED-SCHLOSS. (From "All the Year Round.")

JK FIVE CHAPTERS. — CHAPTER I.

Count Albrecht von Eabensberg was the object of some attention in the \f inter of '44, when he appeared, for the first time, in the salons, of Vienna. He was the head" of atf old Bohemian family ; rich, not much past thirty, and handsome. He was, moreover, unmarried. Little was known about him, except that he had large estates, and more than one schloss, where he never resided ; that his father had died when he was very young, and his only sister .had been drowned, by accident, many i years before ; and that, left without kith or kin, since the age of eighteen, he had led a wandering life on the face of the globe, never remaining for many months in the same place. He consorted but little with men of his own age, he neither gambled nor drank, and he was said to be proof against all the attentions of women. Whether this was really so or not, such a reputation was, in itself, enough to pique curiosity and excite curiosity in Vienna, where feminine intrigue spreads its endless network among the roots of an aristocratic society. Add to this the stern, sad expression, of the young man's handsome face, and his' reluctance ever to talk about himself, and the mystery witli which it pleased the Viennese.world to invest him, could no longer be a matter of surprise.

The world selected a very suitable Wife fpr him — the lovely datfgbter of the princely house of L. He scandalously disappointed the world, and choose a wife for himself. He married a simple burgher's daughter ; and the indignation which this outrage upon common decency aroused can only be conceived by those who know what the pride of " caste " in Vienna is. How could his infatuation be accounted for ? The girl he fixed on was by no means beautiful. A sweet, pale face, a slender, graceful figure, were all young Magda had to boast of. He saw her first in 1 one of the Lust-G-artens of the town, and from that moment his infatuation began. He followed her home ; he never rested until he had made the good citizen's acquaintance ; he called at the house daily during the week, and on Easter Monday he asked Magda to become his wife. The girl was almost frightened. . It was scarce a fortnight since she had first met the count's intense and searching gaze bent upon her; since she had been conscious of his following .her and her mother home ; scarce ten days since' he first c«Jte/i,-th?ik^,<&Wr March morning, when Magda's hands were red : from the household washing, and she was ashamed of them, as she knitted with downcast eyes, and replied iri monosyllables to the questions of the deep-eyed, melancholy Graf., It had, passed like a dream, so fantastic and unreal it seemed. She Avas still a little afraid of him. He was very handsome,, no doubt ; and no young maiden could; be insensible to the. devotion of such a knigbi; but his gravity and the difc ' ference of their rank a little oppressed her. She had scarcely accustomed herself to his daily visit, scarcely felt at ease in his presence, when he startled her by laying all he possessed at her feet.' ' And with some trembling, some unaccountable ftfisgiving at heart, she faltered "Yes."

The cackling this event caused throughout all classes (for high and low -were equally interested therein) was increased by the haste with which the marriage was hurried on.. Of course, it was said the poor young man had been entrapped into it; there were hints that he. .had .been made drunk ; there were even darker- hints thrown out, without one shadow of foundation ; but these lies had scarcely time to permeate society, when the news burst like a bomb into the m.idsfc of it that the ceremony had actually taken place in private, and -that Count von Eadensberg and his bride had left Vienna.

The count's conduct was no less strange after marriage than it had been before. He worshipped his ydung wife with a passionate curiosity, so to speak, which seemed allied to some mysterious feeling, deep seated and unexplained. Now and again he would lie at her feet for hours, gazing into her eyes, as, Hamlet may ha^e done into Ophelia's, with a silent, half-sor-rowful ecstasy, rising on a sudden, with a wild rapture, to cast his arms about her and coyer her with Msses. By degrees she became used to hip ways, more at ease under his long silences, less startled by his sudden passionate outbursts. There were times, too, when he would talk with an eloquence, the like of which she had never heard, of all that he had seen or read, and tell strange stories of adventure with a charm which would have won the heart of a less willing listener. The Sweet Gf-ermaii nature, looking out of those calm blue «yes, grew daily closer to his ; her happiness expanded daily, sending forth stronger shoots and tendrils, which clasped themselves round whatsoever belonged unto her "mann" — her Albrocht. His word would have been her law under any circumstances ; it became a law of devotion, and riot of dicipline alone. „, They riperifc three weeks on the Danube ,:., they visited a large estate of th ! <3 c'buiit'a iieai Peith\ Then, towards

the second month after their marriage, they moved to the* old mansion of the Eabensbergs at Prague ; worm-eaten, gloomy, uninhabited for years, with rjist on its hinges, and grass-grown courts, and the sorrow of many generations hanging over it like a pall. The count was more pre-occupied, more strange in. his demeanour than usual than night. After supper, when the servants had left the room, he said suddenly : " We shall only be here two nights, Magda. . .• . . To-morrow I must leave thee alone for the day. I go to Schloss Eabensberg, wbich-is but a few hours' journey .... to prepare it for thy reception, my darling , . . . and then "

He abruptly broke off : pressed he"r to his bosom, and struggled to cast aside the care which had weighe'd'upon his spirits all the evening. The young wifo was not very teen . sighted ; she soon forgot the shadow,, inf the sunshine, artificial though it was; and slept that night the' cairn sleep of a child, unconscious that her husband never closed his eyes, but lay and watched with a, look of intense anxiety, the sweet untroubled face beside him.

He was off" before daybreak; and Magda wandered about the house feeling a lffctle lonely, and dreaming old-world dreams in the great desolate rooms,, half the day. She drew a splniiine-wneel from a dusty corner in one of the rooms, and set it near a window ; bravely resolving to employ herself. It proved a failure ; the threat! broke every minute, and she pushed the wheel aside, at last, in despair. She could not sit down to her "knitting to-day ; she wanted something to employ her thoughts, and not her fingers only. She turned to the pictures ; she examined them all in detail ; they were mostly portraits, and among them was one wbieh struck her young imagination forcibly ; she came back to it again and again — why she could not tell. There were splendid-looking warriors, but it was not one of tl'iese; gay courtiers, and gay ladies in farthingale and ruff, but none of them possessed for her the attraction of a portrait representing a plain woman in the hideous dress in fashion fifty year's since. The face was wholly unlike Albrecht's, unlike any one Magda remembered ; unless,, indeed — but the fancy was absurd ! Her own eyes, as tb& glass toltf her, were soft, fightf blue ; these were grey, -and anything but soft;' passionate intensity was their characteristic, and the secret of their rivettmg the spectator. Those eyes would not let them,- J selves be forgotten ; the only beautiful" spot in the picture, it was natural she 'shQul&^iiiYc'and speculate about them; but why should they seem to her like the broken", confused reflection of her own eyes, given back by the troubled waters of a steel-cold lake? There was neither name nor date affixed to the portrait, and no servant iri the house knew who the original "wa?. She returned to" the room twice to look at " it ; and the memory of it haunted her long after the shades of twilight had gathered round ; until the clatter of a horse's hoofs in the courtyard roused her to Albrecht's return. .He came in looking excited, but worn and anxious, and after embracing her tenderly, he almost immediately began thus : — <t " We leave this to-morrow morning, my dearest Magda. Art thou prepared to ataVb ?" " Sureley .... "We go to Schloss Eabensberg ? . . .1 shall be glad to get out of this gloomy house, Albreclit." "Schloss Eabensbers is still gloomier Magda. It is surrounded by a moat, and stands in the midst of a wild forest. The walls are thick and the windows small It Is not a cheerful residence, my poor child.". " Never mind. I slia.ll get accustomed to it, Albrecht. It is the country — and we can walk about the woods all day long in the sweet summer time ; and at ni^ht I shall not mind the gloom, with thee." "Ah!. . . .that is it.". . .He paused ; and then continued witli an effort, "Magda, I have to put thy love to a strange test Art thou ready to undergo a separation from me, for awhile — for my sake ? '* " What dost thqu mean, Albreeht?" "That for reason's I cannot explain, I eai - nestly wish thee. to go to Schloss Rabensberg — but alone. Thy stay there .... unless, indeed, I am able to join thee, which I pray to Heaven I may eventually do .... will not be one of many days, probably ; but while it lasts, we shall not meet." " Oh, Albrecht ! " . . . she bagan; but she saw that in his face which stopped her ; a look of such intense, suffering anxiety for her reply, that the words of entreaty died on her lips. He went on. "Perhaps I have no right to ask this of thee, my darling. It is early days to demand such a sacrifice — but if thou knewest — if . . . . " She laid her little pale face on his shoulder. "■ Only tell me what good my going can do?" " I cannot '. . . . I can only say

cannot ; . . . I can only say this. There is a fatal spell over my poor old house, which I h'elieye thou — and thou alone in the world, Magda, canst remove."

She opened her blue eyes wide. "What could he mean ? Did he take her for a child? But no;' his tone was too serious for Vsfr'np; Some of Hoffmann's wild tales occurred to. her.

Was the place haunted ? To her G-erman imagination, brought up to regard the relations 6i the positive with the spiritual world as close and constant, nothing 1 seemed impossible. But what could he mean by saying that she alone could remove the fatal spell. He felt the little heart palpitate against his ; and he continued at length in a sorrowful voice, " No, my Magda,, I see the ordeal is too severe We will turn our faces the other way, and go far from hence, arid begin a new life with another people and try to. forget Sehloss Eabensberg ! " he added bitterly. She raised her head. " No, I will do it, Albrecht Forgive me, and try and forget my folly . . .it is past now. I Avill do whatever thou biddest me, dv allerliebster Albrecht ! " She flung her arms about him ; and he, in return, expressed his gratitude in the most impassioned language. All that need be recorded here were these words : — " I shall be near thee, mein. schatz, very tfear, and thou shalt know daily tidings of me in' some sort, though we may not meet. . . . Neither may Lottchen accompany thee; but thou wilt find four old and faithful servants in the achloss, one of whom will undertake Lottchen's duties For the rest, my Magda, all the counsel I will give thee is never to let the pure and holy thoughts which are thy constant companions give place to superstitious terrors at Schloss Eabensberg. Such thoughts are mighty angels to drive out all idle fear. B<^ simple, unsuspicious of evil 1 trustful of the good Grod ; ,be thyself in short — and all will be well with thee."

(To be continued in our next).