When the mother came back later on from the beds of the two younger children, the three elder ones sat expectantly around the table, for Kurt had told them of their mother's promise to tell them the story of the family of Wallerstätten that evening. They had already placed their mother's knitting-basket on the table in preparation of what was to come, because they knew that she would not tell them a story without knitting at the same time.
Smilingly the mother approached. "Everything is ready, I see, so I can begin right away."
"Yes, and right from the start, please; from the place where the ghost first comes in."
The mother looked questioningly at Kurt. "It seems to me, Kurt, that you still hope to find out about this ghost, whatever I may say to the contrary. I shall tell you, though, how people first began to talk about a ghost in Wildenstein. The origin of these rumors goes back many, many years."
"There is a picture in the castle," the mother began to relate, "which I often looked at as a child and which made a deep impression upon me. It represents a pilgrim who wanders restlessly about far countries, despite his snow-white hair, which is blowing about his head, and despite his looking old and weather-beaten. It is supposed to be the picture of the ancestor of the family of Wallerstätten. The family name is thought to have been different at that time.
"This ancestor is said to have been a man extremely susceptible to violent outbreaks. In his passion he was supposed to have committed many evil deeds, on account of which his poor wife could not console herself. Praying for him, she lay whole days on her knees in the chapel. She died suddenly, however, and this shocked the baron so mightily that he could not remain in the castle. In order to find peace for his restless soul he became a repentant pilgrim. So he took the emblem of a pilgrim into his coat of arms and called himself Wallerstätten. Leaving his estate and his sons, he nevermore returned.
"Later on two of his descendants lived in the castle. Both were well loved and respected, because they did a great deal to have the land cultivated for a long distance around and as a result all the farmers became rich. But both had inherited the violent temper of their ancestor, and the truth is that there always were members in the family with that fatal characteristic. Nobody knew what happened between the brothers, but one morning one of them was found dead on the floor of the big fencing-hall. All that the castle guard knew about it was that his two masters had settled a dispute with a duel. The other brother had immediately disappeared, but was brought back dead to the castle a few days afterwards.
"Climbing up a high mountain, he had fallen down a precipice and had been found dead. These events threw all the neighborhood into great consternation.
"That is when the rumors first spread that the restless spirit of the brother murderer was seen wandering about the castle. All this happened many years before my father and your grandfather moved into Nolla as Rector. The rumor had somewhat faded then and all that we children heard about it was that my father was very positive in denying all such reports that reached his ears. Your grandfather was the closest friend of the master of Wallerstätten, whom everybody called the Baron. I can only remember seeing him once for a moment, but he made an unusual impression upon me. I remember him very vividly as a very tall man going with rapid steps through the courtyard and mounting a horse, which was trying to rear. He died before I was five years old, and I have often heard my father say to my mother that it was a great misfortune for the two sons to have lost their father. I felt so sorry for them that I would often stop in the middle of play to ask her, 'Oh, mother, can nobody help them?' To comfort me she would tell me that God alone could help. For a long time I prayed every night before going to sleep: 'Dear God, please help them in their trouble!' Both were always very kind and friendly with me. I was up at the castle a great deal, because the Baroness Maximiliana of Wallerstätten was my godmother. My father instructed the two sons and acted as helper and adviser to the Baroness in many things. He went up to her every morning, holding me by one hand and Philip by the other. My brother had lessons together with the boys, who were one year apart in age, while Philip was just between them. Bruno, the elder—"
"I was named after him, mother, wasn't I?" Bruno interrupted here.