There once lived in the monastery at Heisterbach a kindly monk, of great learning and simple manners. He had studied for many years that he might settle some doubts that troubled him. He had observed that people grow tired of even the best of things. They desire to behold new scenes, to hear new music, and to taste new dishes.
In the beautiful land of Switzerland is a little town named Zurich. Not far from here is the larger city of Strasburg. The people of Zurich had long looked with envy on the larger city and wanted to become a part of it. At last they decided to send an appeal to the magistrates. This they did, but the great magistrate of Strasburg bluntly refused the honor of such a union.
There was once, we are told, a fine tract of land where now roll the waves of the Zuyder Zee. On the very spot where now the fishermen anchor their boats and fish, there stood a beautiful city. It was protected from the sea by great dykes.
Count Ludwig was the only son of the Prince Palatine. He lived with his father in the castle at Stahleck. The young count had heard many marvelous tales of the beautiful Lorelei and he determined to go in search of her.
On the high hill above the Rhine still stand the ruins of an old Castle. Here Kuno Von Sayne once lived. Kuno was a very proud young man for he was a member of a very noble family. He had fallen in love with the beautiful daughter of the surly old Lord of Faulkenstein. At last he succeeded in winning the love of the maiden, but of her father he had great fear.
A baron’s lovely daughter is stolen away by a specter bridegroom, to the despair of her loving family.
The other evening in an old castle the conversation turned upon apparitions, each one of the party telling a story. As the accounts grew more horrible the young ladies drew closer together.
“Have you ever had an adventure with a ghost?” said they to me. “Do you not know a story to make us shiver? Come, tell us something.”
“I am quite willing to do so,” I replied. “I will tell you of an incident that happened to myself.”
He took an all-possessing, burning fancy to her from the first. She was neither young nor pretty, so far as he could see—but she was wrapped round with mystery. That was the key of it all; she was noticeable in spite of herself. Her face at the window, sunset after sunset; her eyes, gazing out mournfully through the dusty panes, hypnotized the lawyer.
When the Devil comes for the soul of a rich farmer, only the promise of a poor neighbor and the wits of a passing soldier can save him.
“Mary, Mary…” the half-heard whisper woke her in the darkness before dawn.
Darkness. How appropriate. These days, it seemed as if her whole life was in darkness.
