“Remain here till your hair is grown again; then return to your own country; and at that period of the year when the days and nights are of equal length, go on the bridge which crosses the Weser, and there remain till a friend, whom you shall there meet, shall tell you what you ought to do to get possession of terrestrial wealth. When you are rolling in riches and prosperity, remember me; and on every anniversary of the day on which you released me from the heavy maledictions which overwhelmed me, cause a mass to be said for the repose of my soul. Adieu! I must now leave you.”
Thus saying, the phantom vanished, and left his liberator perfectly astonished at the strange history he had just related. For a considerable time Francis remained immoveable, and reasoned within himself as to the reality of what he had seen; for he could not help fancying still that it was only a dream; but his closely shaved head soon convinced him that the event had actually taken place. He got into bed again, and slept soundly until mid-day.
The malicious inn-keeper had been on the watch from the dawn of day for the appearance of the traveller, in order that he might enjoy a laugh at his expense, and express his surprise at the night’s adventure. But after waiting till his patience was nearly exhausted, and finding it approached to noon, he began to apprehend that the spirit had either strangled the stranger, or that he had died of fright. He therefore called his servants together, and ran with them to the castle, passing through every room till they reached the one in which he had observed the light the over-night; there he found a strange key in the door, which was still bolted; for Francis had drawn the bolts after the ghost had vanished. The landlord, who was all anxiety, knocked loudly; and Francis on waking, at first thought that it was the phantom come to pay him another visit; but at length recognising the landlord’s voice, he got up and opened the door.
The landlord, affecting the utmost possible astonishment, clasped his hands, and exclaimed, “Great God and all the saints! then the red cloak has actually been here and shaved you completely? I now see that the story is but too well founded. But pray relate to me all the particulars; tell me what the spirit was like; how he came thus to shave you; and what he said to you?”
Francis, having sense enough to discover his roguery, answered him by saying: “The spirit resembled a man wearing a red cloak; you know full well how he performed the operation; and his conversation I perfectly remember;—listen attentively:—‘Stranger,’ said he to me, ‘do not trust to a certain inn-keeper, who has a figure of malice for his sign; the rogue well knew what would happen to you.—Adieu! I now quit this abode, as my time is come; and in future no spirit will make its appearance here. I am now to be transformed into a night-mare, and shall constantly torment and haunt this said inn-keeper, unless he does penance for his villainy, by lodging, feeding, and furnishing you with every thing needful, till your hair shall grow again, and fall in ringlets over your shoulders.”
At these words, the landlord was seized with a violent trembling: he crossed himself and vowed to the Virgin Mary, that he would take care of the young stranger, lodge him, and give him every thing he required free of cost. He then conducted him to his house, and faithfully fulfilled what he promised.
The spirit being no longer heard or seen, Francis was naturally looked on as a conjurer. He several times passed a night in the castle; and one evening a courageous villager accompanied him, and returned without having lost his hair. The lord of the castle, hearing that the formidable Red Cloak was no longer to be seen, was quite delighted; and gave orders that the stranger who had delivered him from this spirit should be well taken care of.
Early in the month of September, Francis’s hair began to form into ringlets, and he prepared to depart; for all his thoughts were directed towards the bridge over the Weser, where he hoped, according to the barber’s predictions, to find the friend who would point out to him the way to make his fortune.
When Francis took leave of the landlord, the latter presented him with a handsome horse well appointed, and loaded with a large cloak-bag on the back of the saddle, and gave him at the same time a sufficient sum of money to complete his journey. This was a present from the lord of the castle, expressive of his thanks for having his castle again rendered habitable.
Francis arrived at his native place in high spirits. He returned to his lodging in the little street, where he lived very retired, contenting himself for the present with secret information respecting Meta. All the tidings he thus gained were of a satisfactory nature; but he would neither visit her, nor make her acquainted with his return, till his fate was decided.