The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

by Gustav Freytag

The spirit of sad foreboding spread its grey veil over the walls of the Pavilion, but in the Sovereign's castle meanwhile an invisible hobgoblin of another kind was at work, disturbing great and small. The stable was in consternation. The Prince's favorite saddle-horse was a white Ivenacker. When in the morning the groom went to the horse, he found it with a large black heart painted on its chest. He could not wash out the scandalous mark, probably the evil spirit had in this prank employed a dye intended for the hair of man. Connoisseurs declared that only time could heal the injury. They could not help making it known to the Sovereign who was violently angry, and set the strictest investigations on foot. The night-watchers of the stable had seen no one, no stranger's foot had entered the place; only the groom of Prince Victor, a moustached foreigner, had, at the same time with the other stable servants, cleaned the horse that he had lately received as a present from a relative. The man was examined, he spoke little German, was said by the other servants to be harmless and simple, and nothing could be learnt from him. Finally, the stable-boy who had kept watch was dismissed from service. He disappeared from the capital, and would have been reduced to great misery if Prince Victor had not provided for the poor wretch in his garrison.

There was a great uproar among the ballet-girls. In the new tragic ballet, "The Water Sprite," the first dancer, Guiseppa Scarletti, had a brilliant rôle, in which she was to wear green-silk trunks, with rich silver trimmings. When she was to put on this part of the costume, which was very important for the rôle, for the first representation, her assistant was so awkward as to hand it to her wrong side foremost. The lady expressed her displeasure strongly, the tire-woman turned it round, and it was still wrong. Upon nearer inspection of this piece of art, it was discovered, with dismay, that it presented two convex surfaces like the shell of a bivalve. Mademoiselle Scarletti broke out into a fury, and then into tears and finally hysterics; the manager and the intendant were called; the artiste declared that after this disgrace and disturbance she could not dance. It was not until Prince Victor, whom she highly esteemed, came into the dressing-room to express his deep indignation, and the Sovereign desired her to be told that the insult should be punished in the severest manner, that she recovered sufficient courage to play the difficult rôle. Meanwhile the fairylike rapidity of the theatrical tailor had remedied the injury to her dress. She danced superbly, but with a sad expression that became her well. The intendant was already rejoicing that the misfortune had thus passed off, when suddenly, in the midst of the last scene, when the whole depth of the stage was disclosed, the exchanged trunks appeared under Bengal lights in the water nymph's grotto, hanging peacefully upon two projecting points of a silver rock, as if a water sprite had hung them up to dry. Upon this there was a disturbance, and loud laughter among the audience, and the curtain had to fall before the Bengal lights were extinguished. It all looked like revenge, but again the culprit could not be discovered.

The hair of all the servants stood on end. They knew that in the bad times of the princely house a black lady walked through the corridors and rooms, which portended misfortune to it. The belief in this was general; even the High Marshal shared in it; the black lady had appeared to his grandfather, when, on a lonely night, he was awaiting the return of his gracious master. One evening, after the Court had withdrawn, the Marshal was walking, with the lackey carrying a light before him, through the empty rooms to the wing in which Prince Victor lodged, in order to smoke a cigar with him. Suddenly the lackey started back and pointed, trembling, to a corner. There stood the black figure, the head covered with a veil; she raised her hand threateningly, and disappeared through a door in the tapestry. The light fell out of the hand of the lackey, the Marshal groped in the dark to the anteroom of the Prince, and sank down on the sofa there. When the Prince entered from his dressing-room he found him in a state of the highest consternation: even a glass of punch, which he himself poured out, could not arouse him from his depression. The news that the black lady had appeared flew throughout the castle; an uneasy foreboding of evil occupied the Court. In the evening the lackeys ran hurriedly through the corridor, and were frightened at the echo of their own steps, and the Court ladies would not leave their rooms without escort. The Sovereign also heard of it; his brow contracted gloomily, and at dinner he looked contemptuously at the Marshal.

Even the Court ladies were not spared. Miss von Lossau, who lodged in a wing of the palace over the rooms of the Princess, returned to her apartment one night in the happiest frame of mind. Prince Victor had paid her marked attentions. He had been very amusing, and had shown a degree of feeling which he had never before evinced. Her maid undressed her, and she laid herself to rest with sweet and pleasant thoughts. All was quiet: she fell into her first sleep. The image of the Prince danced before her; then she heard a slight noise; there was a crackling; something moved slowly under her bed. She started; the mysterious noise ceased. She was on the point of deluding herself into the belief that it was a dream, when the noise was repeated under the bed, and something came clattering out. She heard an alarming sound, and saw by the faint light of the night-lamp that a ball was slowly pushing itself behind the chair, and stopping in front of the bed. Half unconscious from terror, she jumped out of bed, touched a strange object with her naked foot, at once felt a sharp pain, and sank back with a scream. She now raised a loud cry for help, till her maid rushed in, and tremblingly lit the candle. The lady was still shrieking in a corner, where the prickly spectre-ball still lingered in quiet timidity, and gradually showed itself to be a great hedgehog, which was sitting there, still dreamy from its winter sleep, with tears on its nose. Miss Lossau became ill from fright. When the physician hastened to her the next morning, he found the lackeys and maidservants collected in close conclave before her door. On the door was pasted a white placard, on which was to be read, in large characters, "Bettina von Lossau, Princely Court Spy." Again there was the strictest investigation, and again the culprit was not discovered.

But the spirit of torment that had quartered itself under the roof of the castle did not confine its tricks to the Court and its household: it ventured to disturb the Professor also in his learned work.

Ilse was sitting alone, looking absent-mindedly at the pictures of Reynard the Fox, when the lackey threw open the door, announcing:

"His Highness, the Sovereign!"

The Sovereign glanced at the picture in the open book.

"So that is the view you take of our position. The satire of those pages is bitter, but they contain imperishable truth."

Ilse closed the book, coloring.