Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 October 1874 — THE FAIRY OF THE CASTLE. [ARTICLE]

THE FAIRY OF THE CASTLE.

A HUNGARIAN STORY. I had fulfilled my youthful dream, and become possessed of an old castle and large estate in Hungary. It was at some distance from Pesth, and I had not visited the property previous to purchasing, for the lawyer’s representations convinced me that it was a bargain, even with the incumbrances, which consisted of an adopted daughter and some favorite servants of the late Count. These were all, however, provided with Annuities by his will, so that it only remained to endure their presence in the castle, and if they should prove to be serviceable I should already be provided with servants accustomed to their routine of duties. From the lawyer’s manner on discovering that I myself intended to reside in the castle I concluded that it bore the reputation of being haunted, and rather reveled in the anticipation of bringing to light the secret terrors of the place. I wrote to the steward to send a carriage to meet me at the nearest station. This 1 found in waiting, with a prim coachman m deep mourning, which I at first Supposed to be for the late Count. The man understood his business. His driving was faultless. But his continual sighs and moans, alternated with weeping outright, at last led me to questions, which resulted in his confiding to me that he was mourning for his sin in having murdered his younger brother. I was somewhat startled. But in spite of his violent grief he drove well, and soon brought me to the village in a state of bewilderment both as to his actions and my duty in the case. Some time before we reached the castle we saw the porter posted on a large stone, in military attitude, and shouldering a long stick as if it were a rifle. As we approached, he shrieked in a fearful tone, “ Present arms!” and began to imitate the sounds of the drum and trumpet, while with his stick he went through the eight movements of the Austrian parade regulations, after which he jumped down from the stone, mounted the stick as if it were a horse, and galloped before the carriage like an outrider, all the time shouting, “A master is a master even in hell! ” When we reached' the gate the porter dismounted and stood like a post, saluting me as I sprang from the wagon, and retaining -the most precise military attitude. I looked at him sharply. He had an honest, open countenance, stamped with faithfulness and loyalty. This man was not drunk, but, it would seem, somewhat out of his head. I next encountered the gamekeeper, who speechlessly turned his back in answer to my inquiries; but „in a moment there appeared the valet, a gay fellow of over forty, with his face wrinkled into the most comical expressiohs by habitual laughter. He was communicative and well trained in his duties. While assisting me oil' with-my overcoat Louis informed me that the three servants I had previously encountered Were all mad. By the time he had shown me to the steward’s apartments it was sufficiently apparent that he himself was at least equally so, though his was perhaps a less disagreeable monomania. The prospect was not cheering. It was thankful to find the steward, at least, a rational man. He was remarkably well informed with regard to his duties, although his appearance would rather have indicated a public officer than a farm steward. After a long conversation, during which he informed me that the ..adopted daughter was also insane, I asked him for a pen and ink, in order to write to the lawyer from whom I had made the purchase. He politely showed me his writing-desk, and then brought me a lamp similar to the Davy-lamp ased by miners. , I wrote somewhat sharply to the lawyer, winding up by saying that the only redeeming feature in this bedlam was the

finding of a remarkably sensible and well-educated steward. ' —- ■■■' •. Having finished, I asked the steward for a light and sealing-wax. He begged me to use wafers, and upon my still preferring wax insisted that I should not seal it in his room. He begged to be pardoned, and turned pale as he said: “I must tell you, sir, that I suffer from a peculiar malady. The air in my lungs changes quickly to hydrogen, so that the room in which I am gradually becomes filled with hydrogen gas, and if any one should enter with a light the gaseous vapors would explode and would set the house on fire.” I fell back in my chair. Good heavens! this man was the most insane of all. I was here with six mad people, and was myself the seventh; for I had bought this splendid company. I tore up the letter and despairingly sought my room. Having locked the door after the valet, I noticed that the fire was burning brightly, and that the supper stood upon the table, and could not but wonder what madman had cooked it. I could not sleep. I turned over in my mind scores of plans for getting rid of the property or for leasing it, but none seemed practicable. There was only the one thing certain —that I must get away. Excitement played tricks with my imagination ; the old Count seemed to descend from his frame on the wall and approach me, murmuring, “ Now I have another fool;” an old clock began to strike, and kept on into the hundreds; the bed was uncomfortable; the moon shone in and tormented me till I curtained it out, lest I too should go mad, as was everything else, servants, pictures, clocks, beds and moonlight? I sprang up in a rage, resblved that the morning should rid me of ■my tormentors. Suddenly something began to steal over me which quieted thought. What was it, song or music?—a tone escaped from the harmony of the spheres? I knew not whence it came; but it was enchanting and exerted a wonderful influence. It ceased in a few moments, even before 1 could be certain what it was. I forgot my annoyances, opened the window and leaned out in the moonlight, listening. But the window opened on the court-yard, and there was no sound but the low barking of a dog. I went out into the hall. The song began again, and seemed as if it were under me. It was deeply melancholy—yet not a song, only a dreamy, rhymeless melody, like the notes of a forest bird, but so charming and beautiful that I stood enchanted, forgetful of my surroundings. As it ceased I wondered if this could be the insane girl whom the steward had said had no language but song. I took a light and started in search of some position where I could hear better; but the old castle seemed '"have be?h built from a labyrinthine model. I went through the first story, and up and down stairs, and along innumerable halls, till at last I opened a door -which seemed familiar and found myself again in my own room, without knowing how I got there. I noticed that my bed ■was re made, the fire replenished, and that a thick green curtain was drawn over the Count’s picture at the foot of the bed. Some one had been here! While I remained, listening, the song recommenced, but this time it seemed to be above me. I lay down again and fell into a sleep, from which I awoke in a different frame of mind. I resolved to stay here, to continue the Count’s good work, and to unravel the riddle of the nocturnal songstress. After a residence of half a year I had discovered various means of dealing with and even decreasing some of the peculiarities of my servants. The honest and deeplessly vigilant porter, although most foolish, gave me least care of all. The poor dunce had only one ardent .wish—to wear a red coat, such as he had once seen on a fox-hunter. After that I believe the already devoted fellow was ready to go through fire and water for me. My gamekeeper, though almost dangerous if airy one else presumed to order him—the King of Lapland, as he imagined himself to be—yet bowed in humble submission before me, whom I made him believe to be the Czar of Russia. My steward was such a learned and useful man that I resolved on a heroic cure of his monomagia. I brought gaspipes from Pesth, and endeavored to bargain with him, to supply the castle with gas from his breath. The shock occasioned by my proposition threw him into a severe illness, but he arose from it an entirely sane man. » There were only two remaining in the house who had not been, at least in a measure, benefited by my system of cure : one was my invisible siren and the other was myself, who was in love With her. /■" ■ „ ■*.. As soon as daylight was gone het song began—a song of the lark from human lips; it came and went, sometimes soothing me to sleep, and sometimes waking me, but I could never discover whence it came.* ■< , • . , Nay, more—when I slept she came and went in my room, often remaining hours. I had several means of knowing this. I always left a lamp burning on my table. When I woke it was always extinguished, and being turned dpwn instead of blown out had evidently been touched by a human hand. This was to prevent my seeing her should I suddenly awake. Again, there was a clock near my bed; this I wound up myself before retiring. If I fell asleep at eleven o’clock, and awoke at four or five, the clock would stand at one or two, and yet it went correctly in the daytime. My invisible caller stepped the clock, so that its striking should not awaken me, and started it again when she left. By this means I could tell how long she remained. And yet i could find no trace of her means of gaining admission. I myself locked the doors, and left the keys in the locks on the inside. My windows were protected with iron grating. There could be no trap-door in the floor, for the carpet was of one piece, and nailed down around the-edges of the xfrall. I tried the walls, too, but nowhere was any trace of a hidden door. I took down the picture, but was rewarded with nothing blit cob-

webs. Then I examined the roof of the castle, but found only an immense quantity of seed corn spread out directly over my room. Neither could I discover any door leading -to the part of the castle which she occupied, and her windows were doubly secured with, iron gratings. What did this strange creature eat and drink? Is she really a spirit that exists without food or raiment? I questioned ifiy servants, except the porter, w*ho I knew beforehand would only answer, “ A master is master even in hell,” whereas I was not master in my own house. The steward knew nothing of the secret, but he assisted me in my researches, and was as much astonished as myself at what I related. The coachman crossed himself, told a story of a ghost, and prayed I would allow masses to be said for the repose of her soul. My valet, Louis, said it was a wonderfully beautiful enchanted girl, who dressed in gold and silver, who drank only dew, and lived on the nectar of flowers, like a butterfly. At her will she can change into air’and pass invisibly through doors. When it should come winter I must notice the frost-pictures on my windows. If I should find a round, melted spot among the flowers, that would be the point through which she had vanished. He had, at least, a poetical idea of the matter. Not so the little gnome-like gamekeeper, who declared it to be no good spirit. At night she changed into a were-wolf and ate little children. He claimed to have met her often in the forest, and tried to shoot her, but she seemed bullet-proof. In vain I tried feigning sleep. She seemed to understand my st rat age m, and I could even hear her laughing—somewhere near me, surely, but where? I pictured her tall and graceful, with blonde hair reaching to the floor and glittering like gold in the sunshine, complexion transparent, long black eyelashes, and melancholy, lustrous, sapphire eyes, and the delicate lips marked with a faint line of pink. My days were spent in the care of my estate, but they were filled with impatience for the return of evening and my fairy enchantress. At last I dreamed of sitting with her under the shade of a pomegranate tree, while the sun, mirrored in the lake before us, threw its reflection upon her angelic face. In my dream I gave her one of the apples, which she pronounced sour. I then took one myself, and putting it between my lips told her it w r as sweet, and that she must take a bite of it. Oh, the absurd ideas we have in dreams! She leaned over, smiling, looked at me with her glorious blue eyes, and came nearer and nearer to take the red kernel. Then suddenly she passionately pressed her lips to mine, not like a spirit or dream-picture, but as a real human W' ihg. Beside myself with unspeakable rapture, I quickly threw both arms around her—and at the instant a sharp outcry awoke me. No, all that could not be merely a dream. It was a human kiss, a reabembrace, a living outcry. And yet there was no one in the room! A thought came into my head. I sprang up and rushed to the chimney. Then I was ashamed to have imagined that my fairy could have come through the flue! And to render the idea utterly absurd, the grate was still full of glowing cinders, and it was, besides, shut in with iron bars. My heart was still beating from the embrace and my lips burning from the kiss. . ' ■ ' \ As I relighted my lamp, and feverishly began to pace up and down the room, a strange object suddenly met my sight—a tiny embroidered slipper, so fine and delicate that it might well have been worn by no earthly foot. At last I had proof that she had been in my room, had sat by me, and fled in haste, losing the slipper, which she had no time to pick up. I dashed a pitcher of cold water over my head in order to make assurance doubly sure, and then' I locked this wonderful little slipper in a drawer, still feeling that it would not be there in the morning, for men often dream that they have foundr treasures of gold and have locked it in an Aron chest, to find, on awakening, that it was only a tantalizing dream. Then I went to bed again and slept later than my custom. As soon as I was fairly awake in the morning I pulled out the drawer of my writing-desk in order tp assure myself that the last night’s experience was either a reality or a dream. The slipper still lay there, just the same, of white lace and red ribbons, and a Julian flower and butterfly in the finest embroidery. From this time on it seemed impossible for me to stay in the house. Day and night, with every thought intent on solving a riddle to which there seemed no key, I should soon be as crazy as the rest of the household had ever been. No, there must be an endof it! Idealistic dreams are very beautiful, but they did not sujt my constitution. I resolved to quit the castle and return to Pesth, and either rent the estate or leave it in the hands of the steward. Accordingly I called the servants together and told them my plan. For a year after my departure I would continue their wages in addition to the allowance made them by the will of the late Count. I then dismissed them unceremoniously, for I was getting into that state of mind in which I did not wish to see any face about me. All departed except the foolish doorkeeper. Of course he was going to sell me that “A master is master even in hell!” To my great surprise the man put off his military manner, approached me, kissed my hand, and began to speak in an entirely changed and unaccustomed voice. , “ Why will you leave this place Does? the poor girl annoy you?” I was astonished beyond measure. The man, then, was not mad! “ It seems to me that a great change, has come over you,” I returned. “Yes, sir. I wish to tell you everything, and you will then underpaid -much that up to this time must have seemed strange; and then, I think, you will not leave the cattle.” His manners, language and expression were such that I involuntarily invited

him to sit down, which he did. I was now convinced that he knew the secrets of the castle, and anxiously awaited his developments. / “The deceased Count,” he said,““had an unfortunate secret alliance. Wishing to make reparation to his child, who was motherless from her birth, he brought her here in order to educate and lawfully adopt her. But he was not permitted to make full reparation on earth. The girl grew* very beautiful, but never learned to speak. She is not deaf and dumb, for she sings and notices the slightest sound. But she never speaks a work; she only sings. Like a forest bird, she has different tones, with which she makes known her pleasures or griefs to those who understand her speech. The poor Count and I learned this music language, and I understood her. I was the Count’s only confidant. He once said to me: ‘lf I should die, leaving testimony that this child was mine, what would happen to her? Peo- < pie would certainly consider her crazy, which she is not. She has understanding, a good heart, natural affection, and comprehends human thought. Still they would put her in some insane asylum, and so make her really idiotic. How shall I prevent this?’ Then the Count had the strange thought to make an asylum out of his own castle fdr the sake* of the child. From far and near in the vicinity he brought together the village dunces, and the steward he brought directly from an insane asylum. I was the only one of all who was in possession of my five senses, but I pretended the worst madness of all, so that the affair should become notorious. Then the Count gave himself up to the. care of the unfortunates with ceaseless patience, and gradually made docile, quiet human beings of them, till at last he had no servants that he had not partially cured from some mental disease. His object indoingthis, and leaving them a home here for life, was to prevent his heirs from either living in or selling the castle, for he thought no one would buy an estate under such conditions. I confess, sir, that when you first came I counted on your not remaining more than two months in the castle. It is built with secret passages between all the rooms. I myself do not know how they are arranged. Viola alone possesses the secret.” Viola! The name startled me. And yet it would well suit my fancy picture. “ In this way Viola comes down to the hall every night, where I have her food prepared. If I should die the steward would care for her. On these occasions I often spoke to her of you, and was surprised to find that the “poor girl, instead of being afraid of the stranger who had bought her father’s castle, was so much pleased with you that she sighs and blushes at the mention of your name. Yes, she even let me know that she was accustomed to sit by you while_ you slept, and guard your dreams. You have perhaps not known that before ?” Oh, I knew it very well. “The child is not insane; but if you should go away now she certainly would become so. To-day she came to me weeping. I could not imagine what had happened. As she became somewhat calmer she made me understand that while you were asleep she had again stolen to your room, and—had even kissed you. I cannot describe the tender, modest smile with which she acknowledged it. Then, frightened, she covered her face and fell upon her knees, wringing her hands, with a beseeching look, and the tones of a wounded bird entreating the hunter not to kill or imprison it. Viola prays that you will not be angry with her. She will not disturb you again, not even with her singing. She will be still in the house. You shall not even be conscious of her existence; only pardon her this. But I pray you, sir, not to leave the castle. You know* Its secrets now. We who are here love you so much! No one but you could so well manage these poor unfortunates. I really do not believe that Viola will visit you again; blit ifyou should accidentally meet her you will act with that thoughtfulness which every prosperous human being ow*es to the unfortunate.” I became suddenly aware of the fact that my porter and I were shaking hands in a friendly way; but I had already grown accustomed to extraordinary proceedings. Having assured him that I would remain and that I was not angry with Viola,! begged he would no longer keep up the role of an idiot in my presence. For two months I never once heard the voice of my fairy. I was like one who has lost a friend whom he nightly dreams is alive again, and who ponders how strange it is that anybody can be alive w*ho is certainly dead.’ About this time a bold band of robbers began to spread terror throughout- the neighborhood; they had broken into many of the neighboring castles, committing robberies and shooting whoever opposed them. My neighbors advised me to be on my guard, for a gentleman, happening to pass my village, had been taken for me and robbed on the highway, and it seemed pretty certain that my turn would come. But I was too much given up 10 my dreams to pay much attention to the warning. One November evening—it was sleet ing bitterly—l sat alone by my grate, piling stick after stick of wood upon the fire and watching the glowing, whistling spirit forms into which the wood became transformed, when suddenly I was aroused by a loud shout, w hich was quickly followed by a shot. To spring up, snatch my revolver and rush into the hall was the work of an instant. In the opposite door appeared two masked figures. I received them with two shots. One of them returned my fire without effect, the other fell, apparently badly wounded, and was dragged out by his comrade, who again shot at me the half-open door. I partly covered myself with my own door and stood ready to meet another attack. At the moment I became aware that others were endeavoring to force an entrance at the opposite dodr of my room. I was attacked on both sides. In this emergency I thought how fortunate it would have been if the fire were burning less

brightly. As it was, I presented a distinct mark for the robbers’ aim. Scarcely had this thought passed through my mind when the room became dark, and as I looked in astonishment toward the chimney I was startled to see that the grate and the fire had vanished, and in their place stood a pale to white-robed figure, with a lamp in one trembling hand, and shading its flame with the other. She was the embodied, picture of my dreams! After a second’s hesitation my fairy ran to me, seized my hand, and drew me toward the open space in the chimney, when the enchanted floor instantly began to descend. Here, then, was the key to the mystery. The whole foundation of the chimney, with the fire-grate, ascended into the flue, leaving beneath it an opening which took us half a story lower. Between the ground floor and that above it was a space high enough for a grown person to stand upright, and which was yet not discoverable either from without or within. When we reached a corner wall my strange rescuer again drew me to her, and pushed back a bar in the wall, when the square on which we stood quickly ascended. Here, also, as in my room, was the secret opening to the chimney, through which I was now so magically led. I felt as if waked from a dream. A moment before in mortal danger, and now safe in this quiet spot with my fairy. Here was the apparition of my dream! This was the being who had kissed me under the pomegranate tree! The same countenance, the same eyes, the same silent lips—and now also again the same sudden disappearance! On looking around I could see her nowhere. But this time what-IJiad seen was no dream; for in a few moments I heard the alarmbell sound from the castle tower. The entrance to this tower also I had never been able to find. It, too, then, was only to be reached from Viola’s room. Poor child! as soon as she had imagined from the shooting that my life was in danger she herself disclosed the protecting secret in order to rescue me, and afterward hastened to signal the danger to the inhabitants. In a short time I heard the people noisily approaching my residence. This was followed by a sharp skirmish on the veranda, ending with a shout of victory from my good people. The robbers had fled, taking with them the dangerously wounded man who had been hit by my bullet. Another lay dead in the court-yard. The gamekeeper had stabbed him with his butcher-knife. The robber had ventured to oppose the King Of Lapland, who had hurried up to the support of his mighty friend the Czar. The remainder of the band were taken together within the year. But the faithful porter had been killed. As the servants brought lamps, and by their light we raised from the ground the bleeding body of the man who had so de votedly offered himself, Viola began to lament like a young bird stolen from its nest. She threw herself on the ground, and went into such paroxysms of grief that I began to fear for her reason. Raising her tenderly, I assured her I would now take the place of the protector she had lost. At this she cast her eyes down tremulously, but the tears rolled from under the long, half-closed lashes. She had, then, understood my words. Whoever can understand words can certainly learn to speak them! A month has passed since this occurrence, and during this time I have tasked myself with teaching our mortal language to a fairy. My instructions have not been without result. I am now teaching her that short sentence of our marriage service which ends with the words, “As God is my help—Amen.” When she can say this sentence correctly Viola and I will stand side by side at the altar and repeat it in turn.