Siebach was unusually brilliant and amusing at dinner. He kept us at table long after our usual hour, and when we at last got away to our rooms there was barely time to let the castle become quiet, and get back to the study, before twelve o'clock. However, we accomplished the feat, seated ourselves near together, blew out the candle, and waited for the ghost to move.
For some time everything was silent. Then, all at once, the room became strangely illuminated. One after another the chairs, and tables, and pictures grew out of the gloom, lit up with a pale, peculiar light. And at last the curtain was drawn aside—the horse shook himself, and snorted—the armour rattled—and the Stone Rider rode slowly out into the middle of the room.
The supernatural radiance streamed from him—it issued from the closed bars of his helmet, from the steel breastplate, from the joints of the rusted gorget. It seemed to grow brighter every moment, till, almost dazzled, I turned my attention to the horse.
I did not at first notice the stain on his side which Auberthal had observed. But as I looked at him, I saw that a dark stream began to trickle down the whiteness of the marble. It dripped from a great dent in the breastplate of the Rider—dripped slowly and steadily over the horse's neck, and rolled down to the floor.
For a few moments the rider remained motionless; then struck his spurs into the marble flanks of his steed, and they moved away. The light went with them through the open door, and Auberthal sprang up and rushed after them.
I saw the Stone Rider turn in his saddle and look back as we raced after him; and a flash of flame seemed to shoot out from between the helmet-bars. On they went—clattering, clashing, rattling through the stone passages, and we after them. They reached the staircase—the Rider rose in his stirrups and urged the horse up. The pace was too fast—the horse slipped, plunged—and finally recovered himself, just as an ordinary horse might do, and halted.
But the Rider's balance was destroyed. He swayed in the high saddle—his arms went wildly into the air—and he crashed forward, and fell, with a horrible rattling sound, at our feet. The clasps that fastened the gorget and breastplate burst—the helmet rolled away—and on the pavement before us lay a skeleton!
For a time we were too stunned to speak. Then Auberthal uttered an exclamation of horror and looked up.
Half way up the staircase stood Siebach von Salitz. His face was ghastly white—his eyes were widened with an expression of awful terror—his hands were stretched out as though grasping the air. He stood motionless for some moments, staring into vacancy; then his rigid expression relaxed, his arms dropped to his sides, and he came down the stairs.
"What has happened?" he enquired.