'Then there is a village?'
'No, no. No one lives there hundreds of years.' My curiosity waspiqued, 'But you said there was a village.'
'There was.'
'Where is it now?'
Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and English, somixed up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said, butroughly I gathered that long ago, hundreds of years, men had diedthere and been buried in their graves; and sounds were heard under theclay, and when the graves were opened, men and women were found rosywith life, and their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to savetheir lives (aye, and their souls!--and here he crossed himself) thosewho were left fled away to other places, where the living lived, andthe dead were dead and not--not something. He was evidently afraid tospeak the last words. As he proceeded with his narration, he grew moreand more excited. It seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him,and he ended in a perfect paroxysm of fear--white-faced, perspiring,trembling and looking round him, as if expecting that some dreadfulpresence would manifest itself there in the bright sunshine on theopen plain. Finally, in an agony of desperation, he cried:
'Walpurgis nacht!' and pointed to the carriage for me to get in. Allmy English blood rose at this, and, standing back, I said:
'You are afraid, Johann--you are afraid. Go home; I shall returnalone; the walk will do me good.' The carriage door was open. I tookfrom the seat my oak walking-stick--which I always carry on my holidayexcursions--and closed the door, pointing back to Munich, and said,'Go home, Johann--Walpurgis-nacht doesn't concern Englishmen.'
The horses were now more restive than ever, and Johann was trying tohold them in, while excitedly imploring me not to do anything sofoolish. I pitied the poor fellow, he was deeply in earnest; but allthe same I could not help laughing. His English was quite gone now. Inhis anxiety he had forgotten that his only means of making meunderstand was to talk my language, so he jabbered away in his nativeGerman. It began to be a little tedious. After giving the direction,'Home!' I turned to go down the cross-road into the valley.
With a despairing gesture, Johann turned his horses towards Munich. Ileaned on my stick and looked after him. He went slowly along the roadfor a while: then there came over the crest of the hill a man tall andthin. I could see so much in the distance. When he drew near thehorses, they began to jump and kick about, then to scream with terror.Johann could not hold them in; they bolted down the road, running awaymadly. I watched them out of sight, then looked for the stranger, butI found that he, too, was gone.
With a light heart I turned down the side road through the deepeningvalley to which Johann had objected. There was not the slightestreason, that I could see, for his objection; and I daresay I trampedfor a couple of hours without thinking of time or distance, andcertainly without seeing a person or a house. So far as the place wasconcerned, it was desolation itself. But I did not notice thisparticularly till, on turning a bend in the road, I came upon ascattered fringe of wood; then I recognised that I had been impressedunconsciously by the desolation of the region through which I hadpassed.
I sat down to rest myself, and began to look around. It struck me thatit was considerably colder than it had been at the commencement of mywalk--a sort of sighing sound seemed to be around me, with, now andthen, high overhead, a sort of muffled roar. Looking upwards I noticedthat great thick clouds were drifting rapidly across the sky fromNorth to South at a great height. There were signs of coming storm insome lofty stratum of the air. I was a little chilly, and, thinkingthat it was the sitting still after the exercise of walking, I resumedmy journey.
The ground I passed over was now much more picturesque. There were nostriking objects that the eye might single out; but in all there was acharm of beauty. I took little heed of time and it was only when thedeepening twilight forced itself upon me that I began to think of howI should find my way home. The brightness of the day had gone. The airwas cold, and the drifting of clouds high overhead was more marked.They were accompanied by a sort of far-away rushing sound, throughwhich seemed to come at intervals that mysterious cry which the driverhad said came from a wolf. For a while I hesitated. I had said I wouldsee the deserted village, so on I went, and presently came on a widestretch of open country, shut in by hills all around. Their sides werecovered with trees which spread down to the plain, dotting, in clumps,the gentler slopes and hollows which showed here and there. I followedwith my eye the winding of the road, and saw that it curved close toone of the densest of these clumps and was lost behind it.
As I looked there came a cold shiver in the air, and the snow began tofall. I thought of the miles and miles of bleak country I had passed,and then hurried on to seek the shelter of the wood in front. Darkerand darker grew the sky, and faster and heavier fell the snow, tillthe earth before and around me was a glistening white carpet thefurther edge of which was lost in misty vagueness. The road was herebut crude, and when on the level its boundaries were not so marked, aswhen it passed through the cuttings; and in a little while I foundthat I must have strayed from it, for I missed underfoot the hardsurface, and my feet sank deeper in the grass and moss. Then the windgrew stronger and blew with ever increasing force, till I was fain torun before it. The air became icy-cold, and in spite of my exercise Ibegan to suffer. The snow was now falling so thickly and whirlingaround me in such rapid eddies that I could hardly keep my eyes open.Every now and then the heavens were torn asunder by vivid lightning,and in the flashes I could see ahead of me a great mass of trees,chiefly yew and cypress all heavily coated with snow.
I was soon amongst the shelter of the trees, and there, in comparativesilence, I could hear the rush of the wind high overhead. Presentlythe blackness of the storm had become merged in the darkness of thenight. By-and-by the storm seemed to be passing away: it now only camein fierce puffs or blasts. At such moments the weird sound of thewolf appeared to be echoed by many similar sounds around me.
Now and again, through the black mass of drifting cloud, came astraggling ray of moonlight, which lit up the expanse, and showed methat I was at the edge of a dense mass of cypress and yew trees. Asthe snow had ceased to fall, I walked out from the shelter and beganto investigate more closely. It appeared to me that, amongst so manyold foundations as I had passed, there might be still standing a housein which, though in ruins, I could find some sort of shelter for awhile. As I skirted the edge of the copse, I found that a low wallencircled it, and following this I presently found an opening. Herethe cypresses formed an alley leading up to a square mass of some kindof building. Just as I caught sight of this, however, the driftingclouds obscured the moon, and I passed up the path in darkness. Thewind must have grown colder, for I felt myself shiver as I walked; butthere was hope of shelter, and I groped my way blindly on.
I stopped, for there was a sudden stillness. The storm had passed;and, perhaps in sympathy with nature's silence, my heart seemed tocease to beat. But this was only momentarily; for suddenly themoonlight broke through the clouds, showing me that I was in agraveyard, and that the square object before me was a great massivetomb of marble, as white as the snow that lay on and all around it.With the moonlight there came a fierce sigh of the storm, whichappeared to resume its course with a long, low howl, as of many dogsor wolves. I was awed and shocked, and felt the cold perceptibly growupon me till it seemed to grip me by the heart. Then while the floodof moonlight still fell on the marble tomb, the storm gave furtherevidence of renewing, as though it was returning on its track.Impelled by some sort of fascination, I approached the sepulchre tosee what it was, and why such a thing stood alone in such a place. Iwalked around it, and read, over the Doric door, in German:
COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ IN STYRIA SOUGHT AND FOUND DEATH 1801
On the top of the tomb, seemingly driven through the solid marble--forthe structure was composed of a few vast blocks of stone--was a greatiron spike or stake. On going to the back I saw, graven in greatRussian letters:
'The dead travel fast.'
There was something so weird and uncanny about the whole thing that itgave me a turn and made me feel quite faint. I began to wish, for thefirst time, that I had taken Johann's advice. Here a thought struckme, which came under almost mysterious circumstances and with aterrible shock. This was Walpurgis Night!
Walpurgis Night, when, according to the belief of millions of people,the devil was abroad--when the graves were opened and the dead cameforth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water heldrevel. This very place the driver had specially shunned. This was thedepopulated village of centuries ago. This was where the suicide lay;and this was the place where I was alone--unmanned, shivering withcold in a shroud of snow with a wild storm gathering again upon me! Ittook all my philosophy, all the religion I had been taught, all mycourage, not to collapse in a paroxysm of fright.
And now a perfect tornado burst upon me. The ground shook as thoughthousands of horses thundered across it; and this time the storm boreon its icy wings, not snow, but great hailstones which drove with suchviolence that they might have come from the thongs of Balearicslingers--hailstones that beat down leaf and branch and made theshelter of the cypresses of no more avail than though their stems werestanding-corn. At the first I had rushed to the nearest tree; but Iwas soon fain to leave it and seek the only spot that seemed to affordrefuge, the deep Doric doorway of the marble tomb. There, crouchingagainst the massive bronze door, I gained a certain amount ofprotection from the beating of the hailstones, for now they only droveagainst m
e as they ricocheted from the ground and the side of themarble.
As I leaned against the door, it moved slightly and opened inwards.The shelter of even a tomb was welcome in that pitiless tempest, and Iwas about to enter it when there came a flash of forked-lightning thatlit up the whole expanse of the heavens. In the instant, as I am aliving man, I saw, as my eyes were turned into the darkness of thetomb, a beautiful woman, with rounded cheeks and red lips, seeminglysleeping on a bier. As the thunder broke overhead, I was grasped as bythe hand of a giant and hurled out into the storm. The whole thing wasso sudden that, before I could realise the shock, moral as well asphysical, I found the hailstones beating me down. At the same time Ihad a strange, dominating feeling that I was not alone. I lookedtowards the tomb. Just then there came another blinding flash, whichseemed to strike the iron stake that surmounted the tomb and to pourthrough to the earth, blasting and crumbling the marble, as in a burstof flame. The dead woman rose for a moment of agony, while she waslapped in the flame, and her bitter scream of pain was drowned in thethundercrash. The last thing I heard was this mingling of dreadfulsound, as again I was seized in the giant-grasp and dragged away,while the hailstones beat on me, and the air around seemed reverberantwith the howling of wolves. The last sight that I remembered was avague, white, moving mass, as if all the graves around me had sent outthe phantoms of their sheeted-dead, and that they were closing in onme through the white cloudiness of the driving hail.
* * * * *
Gradually there came a sort of vague beginning of consciousness; thena sense of weariness that was dreadful. For a time I rememberednothing; but slowly my senses returned. My feet seemed positivelyracked with pain, yet I could not move them. They seemed to be numbed.There was an icy feeling at the back of my neck and all down my spine,and my ears, like my feet, were dead, yet in torment; but there was inmy breast a sense of warmth which was, by comparison, delicious. Itwas as a nightmare--a physical nightmare, if one may use such anexpression; for some heavy weight on my chest made it difficult for meto breathe.
This period of semi-lethargy seemed to remain a long time, and as itfaded away I must have slept or swooned. Then came a sort of loathing,like the first stage of sea-sickness, and a wild desire to be freefrom something--I knew not what. A vast stillness enveloped me, asthough all the world were asleep or dead--only broken by the lowpanting as of some animal close to me. I felt a warm rasping at mythroat, then came a consciousness of the awful truth, which chilled meto the heart and sent the blood surging up through my brain. Somegreat animal was lying on me and now licking my throat. I feared tostir, for some instinct of prudence bade me lie still; but the bruteseemed to realise that there was now some change in me, for it raisedits head. Through my eyelashes I saw above me the two great flamingeyes of a gigantic wolf. Its sharp white teeth gleamed in the gapingred mouth, and I could feel its hot breath fierce and acrid upon me.
For another spell of time I remembered no more. Then I becameconscious of a low growl, followed by a yelp, renewed again and again.Then, seemingly very far away, I heard a 'Holloa! holloa!' as of manyvoices calling in unison. Cautiously I raised my head and looked inthe direction whence the sound came; but the cemetery blocked my view.The wolf still continued to yelp in a strange way, and a red glarebegan to move round the grove of cypresses, as though following thesound. As the voices drew closer, the wolf yelped faster and louder. Ifeared to make either sound or motion. Nearer came the red glow, overthe white pall which stretched into the darkness around me. Then allat once from beyond the trees there came at a trot a troop of horsemenbearing torches. The wolf rose from my breast and made for thecemetery. I saw one of the horsemen (soldiers by their caps and theirlong military cloaks) raise his carbine and take aim. A companionknocked up his arm, and I heard the ball whizz over my head. He hadevidently taken my body for that of the wolf. Another sighted theanimal as it slunk away, and a shot followed. Then, at a gallop, thetroop rode forward--some towards me, others following the wolf as itdisappeared amongst the snow-clad cypresses.
As they drew nearer I tried to move, but was powerless, although Icould see and hear all that went on around me. Two or three of thesoldiers jumped from their horses and knelt beside me. One of themraised my head, and placed his hand over my heart.
'Good news, comrades!' he cried. 'His heart still beats!'