The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

by Gustav Freytag

The Sovereign again stopped. "You consider him fitted for the work?"

"With respect to his scientific capabilities I naturally can form no judgment," replied the Chamberlain, cautiously.

Irritated by this cowardly attempt to draw back, the Sovereign asked with emphasis, "Would he undertake such a charge?"

"He has a very distinguished position at the University, and is happily married; and he would, undoubtedly, not like to leave his present position for any length of time."

"Perhaps that may be arranged," rejoined the Sovereign. "Werner, then, is the man. At a short interview I accidentally had with him he made a good impression on me. Do not forget to remind me this evening that the archives at Bielstein are to be searched."

Thus did a father exert himself for the benefit of his son.

The Chamberlain reminded his lord that evening that there had been a question of an investigation in the archives of Bielstein, and the sovereign thanked him for it. The following morning orders were given through the Council to the keepers of the records and members of other branches of the Court and State administration, to seek out and send all records of a certain age that had reference to the castle of Bielstein and monastery of Rossau. This order occasioned a great raising of dust, and five large leather sacks were filled with records and old papers. The collection was sent to the Professor; and in a letter the Sovereign expressed his thanks for the attentions which the Professor had shown the Hereditary Prince. He added that, remembering a former conversation, he sent for his inspection all that, in a cursory search, could be found concerning a place in which he took an interest.

This letter gave cause for serious consideration to two inquiring minds. When the dubious report of the student concerning an existing chest had disturbed the peace of the house, the friends had again turned their attention to the inventory of the deceased Bachhuber, and had once more pondered over every word of it: "In a hollow and dry place, LOCO CAVO ET SICCO." The word place, locus, occasioned much thought; but they could come to no certainty about it. "Of the house of Bielstein, domus Bielsteyn!"--here the expression house, domus, was very remarkable. Did it mean that the manuscript lay concealed in the dwelling house itself, or was the word house used in the obsolete meaning of estate or property? The Doctor contended for the dwelling-house, the Professor for the estate. Much depended upon this; for if domus signified estate, the manuscript might be concealed in any part of the property. "I have deposited it all, hæc omnia deposui!" The word all, omnia, was very comforting; for it gave the certainty that the deceased Bachhüber had not left the manuscript behind. But the depositing was a matter of some doubt. Did the word betoken that the manuscript was deposited only in Bielstein, and thus given over and entrusted, so to speak, to the inhabitants?--or had the writer chosen the expression because he wished to signify the interring and blocking it up in some deep place? To us laymen in the Latin tongue, it appears clear indeed that Bachhuber was very glad to have a Latin vocabulary in which to signify the concealment of his treasure; however, the feeling of the learned men was otherwise. Finally, the friends agreed in taking the view, that, in spite of this account, the walls of the house were worthy of future attention. The hollow places which the Doctor had registered might be examined; the cupboard in the wall in Ilse's bedroom appeared a place not to be despised. The Professor, therefore, determined to obtain some certainty on that point during the next vacation. The business of the Rector had only allowed a short visit to the castle this time; but the Professor would be aided by his position in the family, which opened Ilse's room and cupboard to him.

It was a fine August day; the father was riding about in his fields, and Ilse sitting with Clara in household consultation, when an uproar was raised in the kitchen, and the housekeeper, quite beside herself, rushed into the sitting-room, exclaiming: "There are ghosts around again!" There was, in fact, a loud knocking in the house, and the maids congregated in the hall. The noise came from the upper story; so Ilse hastened upstairs, and, on opening the door to her room, found the Professor, in his shirt sleeves, working in the cupboard with various tools he had obtained from the carpenter. He received her, laughing, and called out, to tranquilize her, that he was nailing the cupboard boards tighter. This was right, but he had first broken through them. The manuscript was not there, and nothing was to be seen but an empty space and a few bits of mortar. There was, however, one inexplicable thing, which might be a trace of the manuscript--a small bit of blue cloth rag; how that had come into the wall was a riddle. On further examination, it appeared that it was not colored with indigo; therefore, probably, it had existed previous to the introduction of that color into civilization. Whether a mouse, in her motherly care, had deposited it there as an ornament to her bed, and at the same time for food in a desperate case of necessity, could not be ascertained, as at present these folk seem to have no traditions of the past, and the individual had probably been eaten some centuries ago by an ancestor of one of our cats.

This discovery might have given confidence to the friends, for there were now two places where the treasure was not. But there is much that is illogical in the nature of men. Even the Doctor inclined now to the Professor's opinion, that the manuscript was perhaps not concealed in the house; nay, that it might even be at a distance from the place.