MIRACLES AND SPIRITS.
Late in the afternoon of the same day a travelling-carriage drove up before the hotel "King of Portugal," in the Burgstrasse, with two large black trunks strapped upon it behind the footman's box, and the postilion, sitting by the coachman, playing the beautiful and popular air, "Es ritten drei Reuter cum Thore hinaus!"Count St. Julien descended the stairs, followed by the host, and nodded in a lofty manner to the two waiters and hostler awaiting him at the entrance, who returned it by a profound bow, at the same time not failing to see the white hand extended with the trinkgeld.
The host himself closed the carriage door, and the count departed amid the merry peals of the postilion, the former gazing after him with the satisfaction of one who has made a good bargain. The servants watched it, too, until it had disappeared around the corner of the next street.
At this instant the quivering tones of a post-horn were heard, and an open caleche appeared and stopped before the hotel with two large black travelling-trunks upon it, and the postilion upon the box blowing the popular air, "Es ritten drei Reuter zum Thore hinaus!"The host observed the empty carriage with a smile, but the servants asked themselves astonished what it meant, and as they turned and saw Count St. Julien descending the stairs, they were startled. He offered them the usual trinkgeld, entered the carriage, and rolled away with a commanding nod.
The host seemed speechless with astonishment, and stood as if rooted to the spot. The servants stared after the carriage until it turned the corner; when just then a post-horn was heard playing the agreeable melody of "Drei Reuter," and a travelling-carriage with two large black trunks drove up to the door.
The servants turned pale, looking shyly toward the stairs. Slowly and with great dignity Count St. Julien descended, greeting them with a gentlemanly nod as he passed, and, extending his white hand with a trinkgeld, mounted his carriage, and drove away.
The host stood as if stunned, outside the door, looking right and left with unspeakable terror. The servants tremblingly fixed their eyes upon the stairs, no longer possessing the power to move, but heard the post-horn, and the carriage which drove up to the door the third time. Slowly and proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the same cold, grave face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered peruke, the curls of which overshadowed the brow and cheeks. He wore exactly the same dark-brown cloak over the black velvet dress. The white hand, with broad lace wrist-ruffles, reached them also a trinkgeld.
This time the fellows had scarcely self-possession sufficient to take the present, for every thing swam before their eyes, and their hearts one moment almost ceased to beat, and then palpitated with the feverish rapidity of terror.
"I would run away," murmured the chief waiter, as Count St. Julien for the fourth time drove away, "if my feet were not riveted to the floor.""If I could move mine I would have gone long ago," groaned the second waiter, the clear drops standing upon his forehead. "It is witchcraft! Oh, Heaven! they are coming again, playing the 'Drei Reuter.'"The count descended the stairs for the fifth time, whispered to the hostler, who was quite engrossed counting his money, handed the trinkgeld to the pale fellows by the door, and mounted his carriage, driving away amid the merry peals of the post-horn.
"Julius," murmured the steward, softly, "give my hair a good pulling, that I may awake from this horrible dream.""I cannot," he whimpered, "my hands and feet are lame. I cannot move.""I will," said the hostler, courageously stretching forth his hand, and pulling it so vigorously that the steward was fully convinced of the reality of things.
Again the post-horn sounded the "Drei Reuter;" again the carriage stopped before the door, and the count descended, giving to every one a gift like the "Maedchen aus der Fremde," and for the sixth time rolled away.
"We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!" groaned the steward.
"I cannot abide it any longer--I shall die!" said the second waiter.
"I do not mind it," said the hostler, as he jingled the money; "if they are ghosts from hell, the eight groschen do not come from there, for they are quite cool. See how--Ah, there comes the count again!"For the seventh time he passed down the stairway, by the servants, who wore no longer standing but kneeling, which the count received as a proof of their profound respect, and slipped the money into their hands.
"Praise God, all good spirits!" murmured the head waiter; but neither the count nor the money seemed to be moved by the pious exhortation, for he quietly entered his carriage, and the eight groschen lay in the servant's hand, at which the hostler remarked that he would stand there all night if the count would only continually pass by with groschen. It pleased the count to descend the stairs yet twice more, divide the trinkgeld, and mount his carriage. As he drove away the ninth time, it appeared as if the Drei Reuter were determined to drive out of the gate and forsake the hotel "King of Portugal." The host waited awhile, and talked with the neighbors, who, roused by the continual blast of the post-horn, were curious to know how it happened that so many guests were departing by extra posts. Whereupon the host, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, his eyes glaring, and shrugging his shoulders, declared that there had been but one gentleman at the hotel, but nine times he had seen him drive away, and the devil must have a hand in the matter!
Shaking his head, he returned to the hotel, and found the servants busily counting their money, occasionally casting covetous looks toward the stairs, as if they hoped the count would again descend.
Exactly as Cagliostro had foretold, Minister Herzberg did not return from Sans-Souci until late in the evening, and then found Wilhelmine's letter in his cabinet.
