egend. Some
talked of mountain sprites, of wood-demons, and of other supernatural
beings, with which the good people of Germany have been so grievously
harassed since time immemorial. One of the poor relations ventured to
suggest that it might be some sportive evasion of the young cavalier,
and that the very gloominess of the caprice seemed to accord with so
melancholy a personage. This, however, drew on him the indignation of
the whole company, and especially of the baron, who looked upon him as
little better than an infidel; so that he was fain to abjure his heresy
as speedily as possible, and come into the faith of the true believers.

But whatever may have been the doubts entertained, they were completely
put to an end by the arrival, next day, of regular missives confirming
the intelligence of the young count's murder, and his interment in
Wurtzburg cathedral.

The dismay at the castle may well be imagined. The baron shut himself up
in his chamber. The guests, who had come to rejoice with him, could not
think of abandoning him in his distress. They wandered about the courts,
or collected in groups in the hall, shaking their heads and shrugging
their shoulders at the troubles of so good a man; and sat longer than
ever at table, and ate and drank more stoutly than ever, by way of
keeping up their spirits. But the situation of the widowed bride was the
most pitiable. To have lost a husband before she had even embraced
him--and such a husband! if the very specter could be so gracious and
noble, what must have been the living man! She filled the house with
lamentations.

On the night of the second day of her widowhood, she had retired to her
chamber, accompanied by one of her aunts who insisted on sleeping with
her. The aunt, who was one of the best tellers of ghost stories in all
Germany, had just been recounting one of her longest, and had fallen
asleep in the very midst of it. The chamber was remote, and overlooked a
small garden. The niece lay pensively gazing at the beams of the rising
moon, as they trembled on the leaves of an aspen-tree before the
lattice. The castle-clock had just tolled midnight, when a soft strain
of music stole up from the garden. She rose hastily from her bed, and
stepped lightly to the window. A tall figure stood among the shadows of
the trees. As it raised its head, a beam of moonlight fell upon the
countenance. Heaven and earth! she beheld the Specter Bridegroom! A loud
shriek at that