s me of a
ghastly story which I either heard or read a very long time ago. But I
think I heard it, because I seem to remember that the person who told
it said that the circumstances had actually happened, and mentioned the
name of the family and of their country seat where it took place. But
if this story is known to you as being in print, please to stop me and
prevent my going on with it, because there's nothing more wearisome
than to tell people things which they have known for ever so long."

"I foresee," said Ottmar, "that you are going to give us something
unusually awful and terrible. But remember Saint Serapion and be as
concise as you can, so that Vincenz may have his turn; for I see that
he is waiting impatiently to read us that long-promised story of his."

"Hush! hush!" said Vincenz. "I could not wish anything better than that
Cyprian should hang up a fine dark canvas by way of a background so as
to throw out the figures of my tale, which I think are brightly and
variedly coloured, and certainly excessively active. So begin, my
Cyprianus, and be as gloomy, as frightful, as terrible as the vampirish
Lord Byron himself, though I know nothing about him, as I have never
read a word of his writings."

Count Hyppolitus (began Cyprian) had just returned from a long time
spent in travelling to take possession of the rich inheritance which
his father, recently dead, had left to him. The ancestral home was
situated in the most beautiful and charming country imaginable,
and the income from the property was amply sufficient to defray
the cost of most extensive improvements. Whatever in the way of
architecture and landscape gardening had struck the Count during his
travels--particularly in England--as specially delightful and apposite,
he was going to reproduce in his own demesne. Architects, landscape
gardeners, and labourers of all sorts arrived on the scene as they were
wanted, and there commenced at once a complete reconstruction of the
place, whilst an extensive park was laid out on the grandest scale,
which involved the including within its boundaries of the church, the
parsonage, and the burial ground. All those improvements the Count, who
possessed the necessary knowledge, superintended himself, devoting
himself to this occupation body and soul; so that a year slipped away
without its ever having occurred to him to take an old uncle's advice
and let the light of his countenance shine in the Residenz before the