Hans Dundermann, at the earnest entreaty of his old housekeeper, whom I shall here name Malchen, not because she was so christened, but simply out of solicitude for the jaw-bones of those who might attempt to pronounce her ponderous title were it fully given, retired to his bed at an early hour that evening. It has already been stated that he desired no intimacy with spirits, and especially with such as disappeared so unexpectedly; but his endeavors to banish from his mind the request of the stranger were unavailing, and the tempting promise which accompanied it would not permit him to close his eyes in sleep. Impelled by an irresistible anxiety to secure the imagined treasure, he arose from his bed, and walked up and down the room in great agitation until within a few minutes of midnight. His love of gold, however, at last succeeded in conquering his fears, so, seizing a German bible, which had evidently grown antiquated by neglect amid dust and cobwebs, and cautiously placing it in his capacious pocket, for he had often heard that whilst he had so good a book about his person no evil spirit could harm him, he repaired to the appointed spot. Here he had for some time been intently peering into the dark wood, when suddenly he heard a strange noise behind him, and upon turning he obtained a full view of the stranger, who had taken the precaution to provide against the prevailing darkness by a lantern, the red rays of which only gave to everything around a more gloomy appearance. Hans involuntarily startled and most heartily wished himself in his bed again, but it was now too late. Gazing supplicatingly into the pale face of the spirit, for he was fully persuaded that he stood in the presence of a veritable spirit, he commenced imploringly inquiring about his personal safety and the prospect of securing the treasure. His appeal, however, failed to draw a word of consolation or encouragement from his supernatural companion who simply indicated by a sign that silence had to be observed, and pointing into the uninviting wood signified to him to move on. Tremblingly the miser proceeded, frequently staring wildly around. Whether it was all imagination, or a fancy which had some substance for its basis, he certainly thought, upon passing several large trees, he saw odd figures behind them. However this may have been, a death-like silence was maintained, nor did Hans seem inclined to break it after his first rebuff. At length they arrived at a small old building, which, though it was not many miles from his residence, he had never before seen. All now surrounding him was dark and strange, and he gazed upon the structure with mingled emotions the like of which he had never before experienced. Whilst endeavoring to collect his wandering wits during this momentary halt at the antiquated building, an unearthly howl was suddenly set up around it, which so frightened him that he at once attempted to test what virtue there was in his heels. Alas! poor Hans! His knees knocked together and his frame shook so violently, he could not move. He was as much a prisoner to his terror as the chained criminal in his cell. It was now that the solicitous advice of his faithful Malchen came rushing upon his memory, and he deplored the folly which had caused him to disobey it. His regrets however, it is believed, were more owing to the wealth he had left behind him than to his having disregarded her good advice, for he began to apprehend that he should never see it more. During this interval of his great consternation, the spirit had remained perfectly calm and composed; and after the noise had entirely subsided it again exhorted him to silence, and softly whispered into his ears that the place was surrounded and protected by numerous imps of the devil who had been commissioned to guard the treasure. Though many before Hans’ time may have been in equally close contact with some of Satan’s extensive brood and felt no fear, and although he had spent nearly all his days in executing to their master an indisputable title to himself, he found no consolation in what the spirit had told him. If he was inclined to render service to Lucifer he preferred doing so at a more convenient distance from him.

Without any visible intervention of the spirit, at least such is the testimony of Hans Dundermann, an opening into the cellar of the building now appeared. Here he was bidden to enter, which he did more through fear than inclination, attended by his mysterious guide. The red glare reflected by the lantern, gave the place a very solemn and haunted appearance, and made the old walls resemble more the neglected ruins of some venerable edifice, than what they purported to be. They had evidently been built when masonic skill was in its infancy and when huge, substantial clumsiness was the fashion. He surveyed the cavern, for such it appeared to him, with wild respect, confident that this had once been the retreat of the Englishman whose memory had so long been perpetuated in the traditions of the village. What was next to befall him, now that he was entirely at the mercy and in the power of the spirit, he could not divine. He was carefully watching its movements as it walked around the cellar, cautiously treading the damp ground, until it came to a stand, and beckoned him to approach. Here, then, he ascertained, was hidden the treasure which had so much engrossed his attention, and caused him so many perplexing thoughts. His fears now yielded to the first flushes occasioned by the almost certain assurance of securing the hoarded gold. Thus animated by the promising prospect before him; his recent regrets were entirely forgotten, and he felt pleased and proud that he had left his bed for so bold and profitable an adventure. His anxious anticipations, however, were not to be so easily gratified as he had at first imagined. The wealth he coveted was still a considerable distance under ground, but this, to him, appeared but a trifling obstacle. He had often handled the pick and spade for a paltry price per diem; and now, that a great reward was to be the issue, he could use them to advantage. The requisite utensils were soon supplied by the spirit, and Hans squandered no time in commencing vigorous operations. Though a veritable Dutchman, he entirely lost the Dutchman’s slowness upon this memorable occasion. He relied more upon energetic effort for success than upon tedious perseverance and plodding patience, and the soft earth was made to fly in every direction. The excitement of the employment soon brought back his usual complexion, and gave his plump face a greasy and shining appearance; when off went hat and coat, and every other article of apparel which generally encumbers a Dutchman whilst at labor. He was now too intently engaged to pay any attention to the spirit, which made its exit from the cellar unnoticed and unheeded.

For some time all continued quiet, not a sound being heard beyond the noise occasioned by himself. He was making rapid progress and congratulating himself upon soon reaching the expected bounty, when his pleasant reflections were suddenly disturbed by another terrible and unearthly howl, much resembling that which had before so greatly excited his fears. In its hollow re-echoes through the cellar it was rendered even more terrific. The spade dropped from his hand, and turning round in his bewilderment, he now first discovered that the spirit had abandoned him. Although he had previously most heartily desired it to leave him and permit him to find his way home again, he now regarded its disappearance as ominous of ill. Alone, with nothing but a credulous and excited imagination for his guide, he was made the victim of a thousand unpleasant impulses, and realized all the dread horrors of unrestrained fear. His face became deathly pale and big drops of cold perspiration stood upon it, whilst his hair rose on end and his eyes dilated and literally sparkled. For a time, as he stood the impersonation of terror, he was unable to comprehend his position, but with returning reason he applied himself to diligent search for the opening through which he had entered. Every nook and corner was quickly examined, but no means of escape were discoverable. Although that awful howl subsided almost simultaneously with his dropping of the spade, he could not approach the spot where he had been digging for the treasure without hearing it again. Had not the spirit told him that the place was guarded by the imps of the devil, and how could he be expected to withstand them? Had not Frederick Metzel been carried off, notwithstanding his resistance, and never heard of more? Oh, Malchen, this for neglecting your anxious and wholesome advice! All these reflections, and ten thousand others no more comforting in their nature, passed rapidly through his mind. The thoughts of a life-time were now crowded into a few of his minutes, and a volume could not give a faithful transcript of the many marvelous stories that spontaneously rushed through his brain. When the devil seemed determined to prevent Luther from prosecuting his work, the Reformer seized an ink-stand and hurled it at his head. Though the missile had little effect upon the object at which it was aimed, being simply dashed to pieces against the wall, upon which the black marks are said still to remain, the tormentor nevertheless vanished. Hans could not deal thus summarily with the great adversary, who happened to have no small claim upon his miserly soul, ready for settlement at any moment. Debtors, and especially those indebted to Satan, are obliged to be more courteous. He was therefore compelled to yield to an influence which his more devotional countryman had only overcome with great difficulty. All ideas of obtaining the treasure were accordingly abandoned, and imprisoned as he was, his first great care was to effect his release. How this was to be accomplished he knew not, as he more slowly and carefully re-examined the old walls, with lantern in hand, escaping only the place where he had so faithfully dug for the hidden wealth. That he could not think of approaching, for he now distinctly and unmistakeably saw a half grown imp seated upon the fresh earth he had thrown up, who was eyeing him in no very complacent manner. Hans has since described him as the very image of a picture in one of his German books, which he had often contemplated with feelings of melancholy dread, and which had equally often puzzled his brain by the thoughts invariably suggested to his mind whenever he beheld it. He never could divine the real policy of tolerating the existence of such hideous monsters; and, perhaps more influenced by personal considerations than feelings of charity for mankind in general, he had frequently most heartily wished their utter extermination and the total annihilation of their constantly increasing kingdom. The puny devil before Hans’ eyes was undoubtedly a legitimate offshoot of the parent stock. He had a large two-pronged fork in his right hand, and in his left he held one end of a strong chain, whilst the other was fastened to his body, so that its great bulk had to trail upon the ground. His long tail, pointed like an arrow, and erected several feet above his head, appeared even more formidable than the fork. His posture much resembled that of an old man, seated upon a low stool, his stiff legs drawn up towards his body. He was almost entirely covered with rough, brown hair, and the bristles upon his head pointed in every direction. There was a fiery glitter in his eyes, and the expression of his countenance, according to Hans’ description, could be handsomely counterfeited by compounding together the faces of a grinning monkey and a fat Dutchman.

At last, fortunately, Hans Dundermann thought he discovered a prospect of delivery from his torments. Not possessing the magic power of the spiritual guide that had led him into this horrible prison, the walls could not be expected to part at his simple bidding, and he therefore wisely determined to test the virtue of more natural means. Seizing the spade, he made a number of vigorous thrusts against the substantial masonry, which, though it resisted his efforts for a considerable time, was eventually compelled to yield him a passage, through which he could escape. Thanks! he was now once more in the open air and breathed again! The devils set up another howl, as if in exultation, and several seemed to be slyly approaching him; but Hans, relying upon his nether limbs, which appeared to have derived strength for the occasion, hurried off with remarkable rapidity. Not content, however, with having prevented him from obtaining the treasure, the whole pack of imps now followed close upon his heels, crying his name at the top of their voices, but this only increased his speed the more. No obstacle seemed a hindrance to him. Dark as it was, he scaled the rocks, and stones, and stumps, in his leaps, as on he flew, leaving those in pursuit far behind. There was no manifestation of the tardy Dutchman in that chase, as he pursued his course for miles, not knowing whither it led and feeling little inclination to pause and consider. When, at last, he came to a stand, lo! the veritable spirit which had enticed him into the wood stood at his side and was calmly gazing upon him. Hans shut his eyes, but it was still there. Drawing in his breath, he bolted in another direction with a speed that outdistanced even this supernatural vision, but led him far from his home. Hatless and coatless, he eventually seated himself upon the earth, determined to await the approach of day. Though he knew not in what locality he was, nor how, lost in the wood, he should find the village again, he was yet consoled by the reflection that he was free from the clutches of satan and his imps. The terrors of Karl Keiser’s son had been nothing in comparison to those he had endured.

When morning dawned,—and never had Hans Dundermann more welcomed the approach of day,—he betook himself to the difficult task of searching for his home. His venerable housekeeper had been thrown into great consternation upon discovering his absence. Not knowing whither he had gone, or what had become of him, her fears at once made her conclude that he had shared the sad fate of Frederick Metzel, and been carried off by the spirit during the night, as a terrible punishment for having neglected to meet it as he had been requested. She now reproached herself for having obtruded her advice upon him, but to make amends, she told the matter to her neighbors, and search was immediately commenced for the lost. He was not discovered until the succeeding day, and when brought to his residence to the great delight of Malchen, gave a narration of his adventures which alike astonished the credulous and amused the doubting.

Those who heard it at once determined to investigate the matter, and, if possible, obtain the treasure and make a general distribution of it amongst themselves. Hans now had the entire neighborhood at his heels, many fully believing his entire tale and looking anxiously for a portion of the spoils; others following from sheer impulse, not knowing what to think or say; whilst others still were led on by curiosity to see the end of what they simply believed to be a foolish vagary of a distempered brain. He was but a sorry guide, however, and after vainly searching for the old building to which he had been led by the spirit, he gave it as his settled conviction that the imps must have removed it, leaving no trace behind that it had once existed, lest they might experience too much difficulty in preserving the wealth it contained. The conclusion was a wise one, and if it taught nothing more, it at least illustrated the remark of a learned Genoese, that “miser’s worship no God but money, and will deny even the very faith they profess rather than fail in schemes to augment their treasures.” However faithful servants of satan they may be, he knows that they would betray even him to gratify their desire, and understands them too well not to place his possessions beyond their wily clutches, in which he is certainly more judicious than many mortals.

T. D.

REMARKS

The succeeding essay was read before the Association, and appears, from the following prefatory remarks, to have been the production of one of its committees.—Editor.