Carmilla | Page 5

night, lying on his back, with his
face full in the light on the moon, had wakened, after a dream of an old
woman clawing him by the cheek, with his features horribly drawn to
one side; and his countenance had never quite recovered its
equilibrium.
"The moon, this night," she said, "is full of idyllic and magnetic
influence--and see, when you look behind you at the front of the
schloss how all its windows flash and twinkle with that silvery splendor,

as if unseen hands had lighted up the rooms to receive fairy guests."
There are indolent styles of the spirits in which, indisposed to talk
ourselves, the talk of others is pleasant to our listless ears; and I gazed
on, pleased with the tinkle of the ladies' conversation.
"I have got into one of my moping moods tonight," said my father, after
a silence, and quoting Shakespeare, whom, by way of keeping up our
English, he used to read aloud, he said:
"'In truth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me: you say it wearies
you; But how I got it--came by it.'
"I forget the rest. But I feel as if some great misfortune were hanging
over us. I suppose the poor General's afflicted letter has had something
to do with it."
At this moment the unwonted sound of carriage wheels and many hoofs
upon the road, arrested our attention.
They seemed to be approaching from the high ground overlooking the
bridge, and very soon the equipage emerged from that point. Two
horsemen first crossed the bridge, then came a carriage drawn by four
horses, and two men rode behind.
It seemed to be the traveling carriage of a person of rank; and we were
all immediately absorbed in watching that very unusual spectacle. It
became, in a few moments, greatly more interesting, for just as the
carriage had passed the summit of the steep bridge, one of the leaders,
taking fright, communicated his panic to the rest, and after a plunge or
two, the whole team broke into a wild gallop together, and dashing
between the horsemen who rode in front, came thundering along the
road towards us with the speed of a hurricane.
The excitement of the scene was made more painful by the clear,
long-drawn screams of a female voice from the carriage window.
We all advanced in curiosity and horror; me rather in silence, the rest

with various ejaculations of terror.
Our suspense did not last long. Just before you reach the castle
drawbridge, on the route they were coming, there stands by the
roadside a magnificent lime tree, on the other stands an ancient stone
cross, at sight of which the horses, now going at a pace that was
perfectly frightful, swerved so as to bring the wheel over the projecting
roots of the tree.
I knew what was coming. I covered my eyes, unable to see it out, and
turned my head away; at the same moment I heard a cry from my lady
friends, who had gone on a little.
Curiosity opened my eyes, and I saw a scene of utter confusion. Two of
the horses were on the ground, the carriage lay upon its side with two
wheels in the air; the men were busy removing the traces, and a lady
with a commanding air and figure had got out, and stood with clasped
hands, raising the handkerchief that was in them every now and then to
her eyes.
Through the carriage door was now lifted a young lady, who appeared
to be lifeless. My dear old father was already beside the elder lady, with
his hat in his hand, evidently tendering his aid and the resources of his
schloss. The lady did not appear to hear him, or to have eyes for
anything but the slender girl who was being placed against the slope of
the bank.
I approached; the young lady was apparently stunned, but she was
certainly not dead. My father, who piqued himself on being something
of a physician, had just had his fingers on her wrist and assured the
lady, who declared herself her mother, that her pulse, though faint and
irregular, was undoubtedly still distinguishable. The lady clasped her
hands and looked upward, as if in a momentary transport of gratitude;
but immediately she broke out again in that theatrical way which is, I
believe, natural to some people.
She was what is called a fine looking woman for her time of life, and
must have been handsome; she was tall, but not thin, and dressed in

black velvet, and looked rather pale, but with a proud and commanding
countenance, though now agitated strangely.
"Who was ever being so born to calamity?" I heard her say, with
clasped hands, as I came