Angus took his sword in case of accidents; we all descended the stair, and I confidently led the way to the lower landing-place, turned to the right, and advanced along the passage. Passing several doors, I paused: for lo! that one which led to the chamber of my Spaniard had vanished again. I was perplexed—thunderstruck; while both M'Alpine and the German laughed immoderately. I felt conscious that I looked exceedingly foolish; but knew not what to say. Gaping about me, I felt all the walls, and sounded them with the pommel of my poniard; I listened for the tinkle of the guitar, and bell-like notes of that soft warbling voice, but all was still as the grave.
"'Tis the work of the devil!" said I.
"Then you agree with me at last, Herr Ensign?" said Otto.
"You have been at the wine-house, Philip," added M'Alpine, "and the memory of some red and rosy jungfer has been haunting you."
"Beware, young man!" continued the Hausmeister, with a dark and most inexplicable look; "it may be a wile of the evil one, or perhaps of Holger Danske, to bear you away. She may be one of the Elle people, whose touch is bewitching, and whose breath produces pestilence and sickness. They dwell among the sedges of the canals, and the moors of Juteland; but there are times when they venture to enter cities."
"Have the Elle women beautiful eyes?"
"They are fair and winning in aspect, but are a mere appearance, being hollow like a dough trough. They excel in playing upon stringed instruments, the notes of which are enchanting; and young men like you, Herr Ensign, find the utmost difficulty in resisting their fascinations. They are most frequently to be met with in the moonlight nights, dancing among the long soft grass, or in summer evenings under the shadow of trees, to the music made by grotesque gnomes, who play on enormous fiddles; and no young man whom they meet, ever experiences a cold reception or denial of any thing. You hear me, Herr?"
"By the soul of king Alpine!" said Angus, "they are just like our Daoine-shie at home! For God's sake and your own, Philip Rollo, beware, or we may find a bunch of reeds, or a bundle of rotten sticks, in your place some morning when the drum beats! Then how would it sound for the sergeant-major to report to Sir Donald, that Ensign Rollo had been carried off by the fairies!"
"I have heard old Dominie Daidle expatiate on the Lamiæ of the early Greeks—evil demons, who assumed the forms of beautiful nymphs, and enticed young men——"
"Especially ensigns," suggested Angus.