CHAPTER IV.
After a most cheerful dinner, Sabina brought from the cupboard a pipe, which she filled and handed with a match to the forester.
"What are you thinking of, Sabina?" he said, rejecting it with a comical air of displeased surprise. "Do you think I could find it in my heart to sit here and smoke a quiet pipe while Elsie's little feet are dancing with impatience to run up the mountain, and she is longing to poke her little nose into the magic castle? No, I think we had better start at once upon our voyage of discovery."
All were soon ready. The forester gave his arm to his sister-in-law, and they started off through the court and garden. After they had gone a little way, they were joined by a mason from the neighbouring village, whom the forester had sent for that he might be at hand if necessary.
They walked up the mountain by a tolerably steep and narrow path through the thick forest, but this path gradually broadened, and at last led to a small open space, on one side of which arose what seemed like a tall gray rock.
"Here I have the pleasure," said the forester to his brother, with a sarcastic smile, "of revealing to you the estate of the lamented Baron von Gnadewitz in all its grandeur."
They were standing before a lofty wall, which looked like one solid block of granite. They could see nothing of any buildings that might be behind it, because the surrounding forest was too thick and close to allow of a sufficiently distant point of observation. The forester led the way along the wall, at the base of which thick underbrush was growing, until he reached a large oaken door with an iron grating in the upper half of it. Here he had had the matted growth of underbrush cleared away, and he now produced a bunch of large keys which had been handed over to Frau Ferber as she had passed through L—— the day before.
The utmost exertions of the three men were necessary before the rusty locks and bars would move, but at last the door creaked, or rather crashed upon its hinges, and a thick cloud of dust floated up into the air. The explorers entered and found themselves in a court-yard bounded on three sides by buildings. Opposite them was the imposing front of the castle, with a flight of broad stone steps, and a clumsy iron balustrade, leading to the entrance door upon the first story. Running from each side of the main building were gloomy colonnades, whose granite pillars and arches seemed to defy the tooth of time. In the centre of the court-yard a group of old chestnut trees stretched their aged boughs above a huge basin, in the midst of which couched four stone lions with wide open jaws. Formerly four powerful streams of water must have poured through them from the bowels of the earth, filling the entire basin; but now there was only a small stream trickling through the threatening teeth of one of the monsters, sufficing to sprinkle with moisture the grass and weeds growing in the cracks of the stone basin, and, by its low, mournful ripple, giving a faint suggestion of life in this wilderness. The outer walls of the structure and the colonnades were all that could be regarded without terror in this space. The window frames, from which every pane of glass had been broken, showed the sad desolation within. In some rooms the ceilings had already fallen in; in others, the joists were bent as though the lightest touch might send them crashing down. Even the stone steps seemed half hanging in the air,—some mossy fragments had already become detached from them, and had rolled into the centre of the court-yard.
"We can do nothing here," said Ferber. "Let us go on."
Through a deep, dark portal they entered another court-yard, which, although much larger than the first, by its striking irregularity produced an impression of far greater desolation. Here, a dreary, crumbling pile of masonry projected far out, and formed a dark corner never visited by a sunbeam; there, a clumsy tower shot into the air, throwing a deep shadow upon the wing at its back. An old elder bush, leading a straggling existence in one corner, with its leaves covered with fallen crumbs of mortar, and some dry grasses between the stones of the pavement, made the scene yet more desolate. No noise disturbed the deathlike silence reigning here. Even the jackdaws soaring in the air above ceased their chatter, and the echoes of the footsteps upon the stone pavement had a ghostly sound.