The Ghost-Seer; or the Apparitionist; and Sport of Destiny. Friedrich von Schiller

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The Ghost-Seer; or the Apparitionist; and Sport of Destiny - Friedrich von Schiller

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was silent. Not a breath was to be heard, and the queen stood with her eyes fixed on the ground in deep abstraction. On a sudden she started from her reverie with the fury of one inspired, and looked wildly around her. “A king is among us,” she exclaimed, taking her crown from her head, and laying it at the feet of the prince. Every one present cast their eyes upon him, and doubted for some time whether there was any meaning in this farce; so much were they deceived by the impressive seriousness of the actress. This silence was at length broken by a general clapping of hands, as a mark of approbation. I looked at the prince. I noticed that he appeared not a little disconcerted, and endeavored to escape the inquisitive glances of the spectators. He threw money to the players, and hastened to extricate himself from the crowd.

      We had advanced but a few steps when a venerable barefooted friar, pressing through the crowd, placed himself in the prince’s path. “My lord,” said he, “give the holy Virgin part of your gold. You will want her prayers.” He uttered these words in a tone of voice which startled us extremely, and then disappeared in the throng.

      In the meantime our company had increased. An English lord, whom the prince had seen before at Nice, some merchants of Leghorn, a German prebendary, a French abbe with some ladies, and a Russian officer, attached themselves to our party. The physiognomy of the latter had something so uncommon as to attract our particular attention. Never in my life did I see such various features and so little expression; so much attractive benevolence and such forbidding coldness in the same face. Each passion seemed by turns to have exercised its ravages on it, and to have successively abandoned it. Nothing remained but the calm, piercing look of a person deeply skilled in the knowledge of mankind; but it was a look that abashed every one on whom it was directed. This extraordinary man followed us at a distance, and seemed apparently to take but little interest in what was passing.

      We came to a booth where there was a lottery. The ladies bought shares. We followed their example, and the prince himself purchased a ticket. He won a snuffbox. As he opened it I saw him turn pale and start back. It contained his lost key.

      “How is this?” said he to me, as we were left for a moment alone. “A superior power attends me, omniscience surrounds me. An invisible being, whom I cannot escape, watches over my steps. I must seek for the Armenian, and obtain an explanation from him.”

      The sun was setting when we arrived at the pleasurehouse, where a supper had been prepared for us. The prince’s name had augmented our company to sixteen. Besides the above-mentioned persons there was a virtuoso from Rome, several Swiss gentlemen, and an adventurer from Palermo in regimentals, who gave himself out for a captain. We resolved to spend the evening where we were, and to return home by torchlight. The conversation at table was lively. The prince could not forbear relating his adventure of the key, which excited general astonishment. A warm dispute on the subject presently took place. Most of the company positively maintained that the pretended occult sciences were nothing better than juggling tricks. The French abbe, who had drank rather too much wine, challenged the whole tribe of ghosts, the English lord uttered blasphemies, and the musician made a cross to exorcise the devil. Some few of the company, amongst whom was the prince, contended that opinions respecting such matters ought to be kept to oneself. In the meantime the Russian officer discoursed with the ladies, and did not seem to pay attention to any part of conversation. In the heat of the dispute no one observed that the Sicilian had left the room. In less than half an hour he returned wrapped in a cloak, and placed himself behind the chair of the Frenchman. “A few moments ago,” said he, “you had the temerity to challenge the whole tribe of ghosts. Would you wish to make a trial with one of them?”

      “I will,” answered the abbe, “if you will take upon yourself to introduce one.”

      “That I am ready to do,” replied the Sicilian, turning to us, “as soon as these ladies and gentlemen have left us.”

      “Why only then?” exclaimed the Englishman. “A courageous ghost will surely not be afraid of a cheerful company.”

      “I would not answer for the consequences,” said the Sicilian.

      “For heaven’s sake, no!” cried the ladies, starting affrighted from their chairs.

      “Call your ghost,” said the abbe, in a tone of defiance, “but warn him beforehand that there are sharp-pointed weapons here.” At the same time he asked one of the company for a sword.

      “If you preserve the same intention in his presence,” answered the Sicilian, coolly, “you may then act as you please.” He then turned towards the prince: “Your highness,” said he, “asserts that your key has been in the hands of a stranger; can you conjecture in whose?”

      “No”

      “Have you no suspicion?”

      “It certainly occurred to me that” —

      “Should you know the person if you saw him?”

      “Undoubtedly.”

      The Sicilian, throwing back his cloak, took out a looking-glass and held it before the prince. “Is this the man?”

      The prince drew back with affright.

      “Whom have you seen?” I inquired.

      “The Armenian.”

      The Sicilian concealed his looking-glass under his cloak.

      “Is it the person whom you thought of?” demanded the whole company.

      “The same.”

      A sudden change manifested itself on every face; no more laughter was to be heard. All eyes were fixed with curiosity on the Sicilian.

      “Monsieur l’Abbe! The matter grows serious,” said the Englishman. “I advise you to think of beating a retreat.”

      “The fellow is in league with the devil,” exclaimed the Frenchman, and rushed out of the house. The ladies ran shrieking from the room. The virtuoso followed them. The German prebendary was snoring in a chair. The Russian officer continued sitting in his place as before, perfectly indifferent to what was passing.

      “Perhaps your attention was only to raise a laugh at the expense of that boaster,” said the prince, after they were gone, “or would you indeed fulfil your promise to us?”

      “It is true,” replied the Sicilian; “I was but jesting with the abbe. I took him at his word, because I knew very well that the coward would not suffer me to proceed to extremities. The matter itself is, however, too serious to serve merely as a jest.”

      “You grant, then, that it is in your power?”

      The sorcerer maintained a long silence, and kept his look fixed steadily on the prince, as if to examine him.

      “It is!” answered he at last.

      The prince’s curiosity was now raised to the highest pitch. A fondness for the marvellous had ever been his prevailing weakness. His improved understanding and a proper course of reading had for some time dissipated every idea of this kind; but the appearance of the Armenian had revived them. He stepped aside with the Sicilian, and I heard them in very earnest conversation.

      “You see in me,” said the prince, “a man who burns with impatience to be convinced on this momentous subject. I would embrace as a benefactor, I would cherish as my best friend him who could dissipate my doubts and remove the veil from my eyes. Would you render me this important service?”

      “What is your request!” inquired the Sicilian,

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