Read Ebook: At the Ghost Hour. The House of the Unbelieving Thomas by Heyse Paul Morse Alice C Alice Cordelia Illustrator Van Santford Frances A Translator

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Ebook has 153 lines and 16572 words, and 4 pages

Arrived at the gateway he peeped in a moment through the window of the porter's room. There sat Wenzel Kospoth, still bending over his folio. The glow from the lamp silvered his gray head; but his small eyes were closed, so that it was uncertain whether he were napping, or sunk in deep thought. Johann Gruber shrugged his shoulders. He could not endure the valiant old man, because other people regarded him as a magician, and he calmly acquiesced; whereas Johann knew that this attributed power over the spirits of hell was clearly a swindle. His colleague, too, disliked the cobbler, and sometimes threatened to do him harm, indebted though they were to him for their unlighted quarters.

The night wanderer now sought the crevice in the old house-door through which he was accustomed to slip in. But to-night, finding an obstacle, he noticed, for the first, that he was still in the materialized condition in which he had been forced to show himself at the medium's command. Instantly he stripped the garment from his shoulders, like a paletot, saw it dissolve in thin air, and glided unimpeded through the door and across the court.

"Good evening, Herr M?ller!" said he, in a whisper. "Have you turned in already? Much work to-day?"

Out of the calash in the corner came back a faint echo, which trembled as from inward vexation.

"How often must I tell you, stupid, to go to bed quietly and not disturb well-bred people in their first sleep? You smell of bad liquor again. Have the goodness to keep away from me and creep into your chest!"

"Oho!" snarled the other, approaching his irate companion and settling himself upon a shaft of the carriage. "The deuce take your fine manners! You are no better than I--Spirit is Spirit, and you are on the wrong track when you accuse me of drinking. You know very well we can no longer pour down a draught behind our cravats, for we have no cravats. No, Herr M?ller, what you smell is the pure, soul fragrance. Your own is not exactly like violets, either. Why should it be, if it savors of the deeds done in your lifetime? You understand? Take care you don't go too far; for if it should come to blows--I have been a match for more than one when I was at service at the inn of The Three Lilies, and with such a fellow as you--"

"Be still, will you!" commanded the voice from the calash, rather faintly. "You know I meant no harm; it is only because I am so wretched in this dog's life of a professional ghost, and besides that, this confounded love affair, and no rest at night--"

"Yes, indeed, I can well believe it!" sighed the other, easily pacified. "You are even worse off than I, and not so much as a kiss will all this bring you. It would be a good thing if you would put the girl out of your mind. It's all nonsense, anyway."

A heavy sigh came from the black depths of the wagon frame.

"That you don't understand, I observe. When this maiden, decked with all heavenly charms, crosses my path, I am like a poor moth that cannot keep away from the lamp, although it does not go near it with the exact intention of burning its wings. I often think the priests' invention is not the real hell--as indeed we know; the true one is the suffering which we incur by our earthly sins. More than one little goose of a girl has cried her eyes out over me; a confoundedly handsome fellow I was, with a pocketful of money. Then, out of sight was out of mind with me; but now I am in for it. What I endure is heart-breaking. There is no drinking to the oblivion of this soul-suffering."

He was silent, exhausted by this passionate outburst; and only a slight whimper was audible from the corner. His sympathetic comrade had in the meantime withdrawn to his chest. After a little, he said: "How beautifully you express it all, Herr M?ller! Just so it goes with my Rieka. In my lifetime I laughed when I heard them talk of everlasting love. But there is something in it, after all. Now, if your Gundelchen and my Rieka should come to us up yonder, perhaps we might continue our courting. Perhaps, upon the last day--well, we must wait. In the meantime, good-night! pleasant dreams!"

From the carriage in the corner came no answer--only a soft, ghost-like snore. Grief seemed at last to have left the poor sinners to their rest.

But the sleep of the two much-enduring ghosts was to be broken in upon in a strange way that night.

A youthful attachment, formed in his gymnasium days and continued through his student years, despite many breaks and reconciliations, was rumored to be on the point of becoming an engagement. But as yet no word had been spoken; and, indeed, even an exchange of letters had been interdicted by the stern father. The young man had thought of her less than usual this past year, but had excused himself on the ground of absorbing study. Of his old companions, only one, a civil engineer, had settled in the town. This good comrade insisted upon sharing his bachelor quarters with his friend during his stay. They met at the station, the newly-fledged doctor arriving by an evening train; and midnight found them still exchanging experiences at the caf? whither they had gone for supper.

"You are awaited with impatience, Philip," said the engineer. "Papa Stadtrath asked me yesterday whether you did not intend to display yourself in the full splendor of your new honors to your native town. I answered evasively. You ought not to accept engagements at once, but devote the first two or three days to rest. For, listen! You are looking pale and nervous; the fatigues of your examination show plainly upon your face."

That he had judged correctly of his friend's condition became evident as soon as they left the caf?. They had drank but lightly; yet, directly the young doctor found himself in the open air, his head swam, he grew unsteady on his feet and began to talk so boisterously, swinging his walking-stick against the windows as they went along, that his friend, fearing that Philip might meet some acquaintance and introduce himself anew in this disgraceful fashion, took a roundabout way home, through Ghost Lane, where they were sure of being unobserved. Locking his arm in that of his friend, he piloted him along, keeping in the shadow of the aristocratic houses, past the "Good Shepherd," "Noah's Dove," and the "Rose of Sharon," in which no sound was heard and from whose grated windows no light shone forth.

They had just reached the house of "The Unbelieving Thomas," when the riotous young man stood suddenly still, shook himself loose from his friend by a violent gesture, and declared that he was ready to challenge all the spooky spirits of the lane--which he now, for the first time, recognized. He proposed to thrust them through with the weapons of science till they were frightened back into the nebulous nothingness whence only the baldest superstition had suffered them to creep forth. This should be his first service to his native town, which, to its own shame, had tolerated this relic of Egyptian darkness, or worse, of Medievalism, here in its midst, at the end of the nineteenth century.

He struck a defiant attitude on the sidewalk, while with one arm he brandished his stick against possible ghostly opponents and with the other he warded off his friend. In this way he lost his balance and fell against the house, striking his head so forcibly upon the sharp edge of the door-post that a large jet of blood spurted instantly from the wounded temple.

In great consternation his friend attempted to raise him and staunch the wound with his handkerchief, while he called loudly for help. In this last effort he was finally successful, for the narrow window of the porter's room, directly over their heads, was flung open. In a few words the engineer explained to Wenzel Kospoth what had happened. When the trusty Bohemian opened the door and saw the wound by the light of his candle, he shook his head. It would be impossible to convey the young man, bleeding thus profusely, to his home, without giving occasion for much talk. There was no comfortable place for him in his stuffy shop; but it happened that in the rear court lived a friend of his who was skilled in such matters, and they would carry the gentleman to her without arousing the neighborhood.

No sooner said than done. As they crossed the court with their heavy burden, they saw a light shining out of Frau Cordula's windows, one of which was opened in answer to the cobbler's call. But the voice which inquired what was the matter was that of Gundula, who was still awake and busied in finishing off some work for the morrow. Learning what Samaritan service was required of them, she quickly appeared at the door below, clasping her hands in terror as she saw the blood streaming from the young man's forehead. The older woman, too, was not a little disturbed when they laid her patient down before her; but retaining her presence of mind, she directed her daughter to fetch her box of remedies. Out of this she took the necessary articles; then, with fresh water she cleansed the wound, which, fortunately, had not penetrated the bone, pressed the jagged edges firmly together, and closed them with a needle and thread, finishing by binding a soft bandage over the forehead.

During these proceedings the patient had not once regained consciousness, but lay bolstered up with two pillows on an old sofa in the living-room. The woman hobbled about on her two crutches, and from time to time applied cooling bandages to the heated brow.

She assured the two men there was no danger,--the wound would heal in a few days. The friend saw that he was in fact superfluous; and recognizing the skill of the good woman, he renounced his intention of watching during the night, and with heartfelt thanks, withdrew with Wenzel Kospoth.

Noiselessly as all this had taken place, yet the whispers and hurried movements in the coachman's lodgings had not failed to reach the fine ear of Herr Heinrich M?ller, and to awaken him. In his dreams his thoughts had been continually with Gundula, and he could not rest in his calash, but must needs peep through the window and witness the assiduity with which she attended the wounded man.

Johann Gruber, in his chest in the corner, would have had no inkling of the adventure had not his ghostly companion returned to the coach-house, when all was again still, and vented his jealous rage in imprecations upon all the living. The hated Bohemian swindler he accused of basely conniving to provide a settlement for the daughter of his friend; and of tripping up the young man in front of his door that the old witch might cure him, and her patient in turn, out of gratitude, pay his court to the girl.

Johann Gruber listened to all this with the utmost tranquility, and yawned so loudly that his colleague turned upon him, and after they had quarreled and hurled bitter words at each other for a time, they fell asleep again from sheer exhaustion.

Late in the morning the doctor awoke. When he unclosed his heavy eyelids and found himself lying upon a strange, poor sort of couch, in an unfamiliar room, he at first believed himself to be still dreaming. How came he in this large, low room, so poorly furnished? On the wall were two oil-chromos--a portrait of the Emperor and a spinach-green landscape,--upon the corner closet stood a wig-block with flaming red cheeks, and not far off was a peasant's chest, painted blue, with white tulips! This surely could not be the bachelor lodgings of his friend! And where was his friend? While he was puzzling himself about the matter, he felt a dull heaviness in his head, and pain in his temples. Mechanically he raised his hand to touch the aching spot, and to his astonishment felt a bandage--at the same instant he heard a halting step and the tapping of two crutches upon the bare, scoured floor, and saw before him the little woman who, while he had slept, had been sitting noiselessly at her work by the window. Now his eyes opened in wonder and his full consciousness returned, while she told him how it was he had claimed their hospitality on the preceding night.

He listened attentively to the good woman, but made no reply, passively allowing her to remove the bandage and inspect the wound, which she found satisfactory; whereupon he declared that he felt quite well, save a slight dizziness and a great emptiness of the stomach, which would be relieved by a proper breakfast. Mother Cordula brought him a glass of water and hastened to her little stove to make him as good a cup of coffee as she was able.

Meanwhile Philip sat upright among his pillows and asked all manner of questions. A great sense of comfort stole over him in this poor room behind the well-mended but snowy curtains, in the company of this simple, sensible woman, whose features were shadowed by a gentle seriousness.

And now the door opened and a young creature came in, stepping lightly on her tiptoes, nodding to the older woman and throwing a passing glance at the stranger.

"My daughter," said the mother, "the gentleman has just waked and would like his breakfast. He is doing well, thank God! Have you brought everything with you?"

The girl, still quite out of breath, assented, and put down her basket upon a chair. Philip saw that it contained various market purchases much more abundant than they would have provided for their own dinner table. His attention, however, was soon diverted by the young girl, who pleased him uncommonly well. She wore a plain brown dress that must have seen long service; and, as its wearer had not yet done growing, it had been pieced down, quite regardless of the fashion, though even now the slender ankles showed beneath it. She had taken off her hat, a black straw, trimmed with a knot of red, and her pretty face was framed by an abundance of thick, brown braids, out of which a little forest of curling locks had escaped over her neck. As she moved noiselessly to and fro, assisting her mother, she avoided meeting the young man's glance, and spoke softly, as though in the presence of a very sick person, when she answered her mother's questions about her work.

But the most charming thing of all was the way the black eyes, always a trifle downcast, would open suddenly, dart a swift glance around, which seemed to break into lightning-like sparks and then suddenly drop their long lashes again.

Twice only, when Philip directed some playful remark to her, did her red lips break into a smile and a dimple appear in her cheek, showing that behind that modest, almost childlike brow, was a roguish spirit which was only repressed by the consciousness of her lowly position and by considerations of good breeding.

When the mother and daughter sat down to their midday meal other company appeared--first, Master Kospoth, their daily guest, then the young engineer. Both were rejoiced to see such an improvement in the patient; and the friend wished to procure a carriage and convey Philip at once to his own lodgings.

Frau Cordula, however, insisted upon keeping him until the following day. The wound, it is true, had begun to heal; but she herself must renew the bandage several times, and she could not leave her room to visit the patient.

No one was better pleased with this plan than the invalid himself. He maintained that he had never slept better, nor drank better coffee. When the men had gone, and Gundula also, he seated himself upon a little stool by the window where her sewing machine stood, took up her scissors, stuck her little thimble upon his finger, and plunged into a cosy chat with the mother as she sat at the other window with her sewing. He drew from her the story of her life; and the calm way in which she spoke of her sad lot, the cruelty of her neighbors, and recompense for those trials which she had found in her child, touched the heart of her young listener, and awoke in him a feeling akin to veneration. When at length Gundula came home in the evening, she appeared less constrained, and ventured to ask if his wound hurt him, or should she get some ice to cool the wrappings. To this he would not consent, and his gallant protest evoked a slight flush upon her cheek. When she wished to move her machine into the adjoining room lest its noise disturb him, he would not allow this either, but moved a chair near her, and watched her taper fingers and the delicate contour of her face as she bent over her work. The mother, however, remarked that her patient needed to go to sleep early, sent out the child, dressed the wound freshly with salve, and withdrew to the back room.

Outside, in the court, a light shadow had been spying in at the window for an hour past--the poor soul of Heinrich M?ller, which was racked by the torments of jealousy, and would not retreat until the young pair, who evidently enjoyed themselves together, were parted once more. That upon this evening, one of the best mediums pursued his vocation without result and failed to call up a single spirit, had its natural explanation in the infatuation which kept this self-declared lady-killer of old a watcher at the window of our simple peasant maid.

The melancholy ghost felt no slight relief when upon the following afternoon his lively rival took leave of his excellent nurse and her daughter and departed for the home of his friend. But the joy was of short duration; for the next evening, as soon as the darkness would allow him to take his way unobserved to Ghost Lane, the young doctor appeared at Frau Cordula's house to have his wound dressed. This time the stitches were removed, and a plaster was applied over the cloth with the healing balsam. He had brought a large cornucopia containing a variety of fruits and confections, at which Gundelchen consented to nibble, after much persuasion. She had now thawed completely, and Philip thought he had never heard a prettier laugh from girlish lips than that which greeted the recital of his student pranks. When, at times, the conversation took a more serious turn, Gundelchen took part shyly, asking any number of sensible questions.

And so it went on the following evenings. Sometimes the engineer came, too, and in the lowly apartment there was such good cheer that they all forgot the hour and had to be reminded by Master Kospoth that they must not overstep the time for closing the great door.

It was not the young people alone who found these evening chats enjoyable; it was good for Frau Cordula as well, to see a bit of life around her once more, and to be able to converse with intelligent people. Still, she could not disguise the fact that a strange alteration had come upon her child; she went about abstractedly all day, and only regained her old-time merriment in the evening to fall again into a reverie when she was alone with her mother.

The wise woman was accordingly glad when one evening she could inform her patient that the wound was almost healed, and that even the scar would soon disappear if he continued to apply the ointment which she gave him in a little jar. She would now take leave of him, as his visits could hardly be concealed if continued much longer, and she herself wished to avoid all gossip among her uncharitable neighbors.

On the following day, a servant brought a large, firmly-locked box up the stairs to the little house in the rear court. Gundula had just come in to dinner, and Wenzel Kospoth, too, happened to be present when the box was opened. Within it lay all manner of pretty finery for a young girl, and a warm dress-pattern for an older woman. With it came a note containing the request that they would kindly accept these trifles and thus relieve the sender, in some slight degree, of the weight of obligation which lay upon his heart.

In the lid lay a very modest little brooch. The girl had once complained that she lost all her pins; now the hope was expressed that this little clasp would hold more firmly, and that, at the same time, it would secure the recollection of a true friend.

Wenzel Kospoth shook his gray head and muttered something about a gallant young man who would do the generous thing. But Frau Cordula directed the child to get pen and paper at once, and write down what she should dictate, which was as follows:

She thanked the Herr Doctor many times for his kind intention to give them pleasure; but she could on no account accept these costly presents, as she must of necessity perform her medical services without compensation, if she would not render herself liable to punishment on the charge of unlawful practice. She would therefore return everything at once, and remain the Herr Doctor's

Respectful and devoted servant,

Cordula Ehrenberg.

When Philip received this message, which was brought him together with the box by a boy from Ghost Lane, he was greatly crestfallen. He knew the simple woman so well that he suffered himself to be deluded by no doubts of her entire sincerity in thus declining all further intercourse. And as he had to confess to himself that he could not seriously think of making her child his wife, and was still less inclined to play with her feelings, he finally concluded, with a deep sigh, to lock fast the chamber of his heart, which was haunted by the image of the witch's child, and to draw a cross over the whole adventure.

At the same time he recalled to himself, for the first time, that he was already half-engaged to another; and he took pains to fan anew the flame of his youthful love, which, in this last week, had died down to an almost imperceptible little spark.

The surest means to this end would be a visit to the house of the Stadtraths. Yet, although he could now, with his scar concealed by a narrow strip of plaster, appear once more as a smart young suitor, he put off the once longed-for interview from day to day, stayed quietly in the house and whiled away the lonely hours when his host was away at business, in a depressing idleness, in desultory reading, smoking and lying on the sofa, in a sort of dream, wherein he could not prevent a certain slender, girlish figure from hovering before his mental eye. Sometimes the long lashes would be raised, and swift little flashes would shoot out from a pair of black, star-like eyes.

But one evening this kind of fireworks grew so uncanny that he sprang up, dressed himself carefully and started for the house of his youthful sweetheart.

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