Sperver set out, carrying the body of LieverlÉ in his cloak. I had refused to follow him, for I felt that duty compelled me to remain near this unhappy woman, and I could not have abandoned her without violating my conscience. Moreover, I am obliged to confess I was curious to examine more closely this mysterious being, and hardly had Sperver disappeared in the darkness of the defile before I began climbing the path to the cavern. A strange sight awaited me there. Upon a large fur cloak with green facings lay the old woman in a long purple robe, with a golden arrow stuck through her gray hair, her withered hands clutching her breast.

Time will never efface the image of this woman from my mind. Her vulture-like face, distorted by the last agonies of death, her staring eyes and half-opened mouth, were appalling to look upon. Such might have been the last hour of the terrible Queen FrÉdÉgonde. The Baron, on his knees beside her, tried to restore her to animation, but at the first glance it was evident to me that the unfortunate creature was dying, and it was not without a sentiment of profound pity that I kneeled to raise her arm.

"Leave her alone! How dare you touch her?" cried the young man bitterly.

"I am a doctor, monsieur."

"Ah, pardon me!"

He was deathly pale, and his lips trembled nervously. After a moment, he asked:

"What is your opinion, monsieur?"

"It is over. She is dead."

Without replying, he leaned back against the wall of the cavern, his forehead resting in his hands, and staring straight before him, motionless as marble. I sat near the fire, watching the flames as they climbed to the arched top of the cave, casting their vivid reflections upon the rigid features of the Black Plague.

We had been sitting thus for a full hour without stirring, when suddenly lifting his head, the Baron said to me:

"Monsieur, all this confounds me. Here is my mother,—for twenty-six years I thought I knew her, and now a whole world of mystery and horror opens itself before my eyes. You are a doctor; tell me if you have ever known anything like it before."

"Monsieur," I replied, "the Count of Nideck is afflicted with a malady that bears a striking resemblance to that of which your mother has been the victim. If you have confidence enough in me to relate to me the facts which you yourself must have witnessed, I will gladly tell you what I know of the matter, for this exchange may be the means of saving my patient."

As I began to speak the Baron started, and exclaimed:

"What? the Count of Nideck visited thus? This is more than a coincidence."

And without further parley he informed me that the Baroness Zimmer, belonging to one of the noblest families in Saxony, and being a blood relation of the Count of Nideck (to whom he should have made himself known had not circumstances required that he should maintain the strictest secrecy as to his identity), had been accustomed for many years to make a journey into Italy towards Christmas, accompanied by an old man servant, who alone possessed her entire confidence; that this man, being at the point of death, had desired a private interview with her son, and that at the last hour, tormented no doubt by remorse, he had told the young man that his mother's journey into Italy was only a pretext to furnish her a means of making an excursion into the Black Forest, of the object of which he himself was in ignorance, but which must have been of some fearful nature, since the Baroness invariably returned haggard, in rags, and almost dead, and that it required weeks of rest to repair the terrible fatigues of these few days.

This is what the old servant had related to the young Baron, thinking that in so doing he was only fulfilling his duty. The son, wishing to learn the truth of his story, whatever the cost to himself, had this very year verified the incomprehensible fact by following his mother first to Baden, and then pursuing her step by step into the gorges of the Black Forest. The tracks which Sebalt had discovered on the Altenberg were his.

When the Baron had finished his confidence, I thought that I ought no longer to conceal from him the singular influence which the advent of the old woman exercised upon the Count's health, nor indeed any of the attendant circumstances, and accordingly, I imparted to him even the slightest details.

The Baron was amazed by the coincidence of these facts; the mysterious attraction which these two beings exercised over one another without knowing it, the ghastly drama which they had enacted without consciousness, the acquaintance which the old woman had shown with the Castle and its most secret passages, without ever having seen them before; the costume which she had discovered in which to carry out the murder in pantomime, and which could only have been discovered in some mysterious retreat which magnetic clairvoyance had revealed to her.

When I had ended the recital of my experiences, the Baron relapsed into his former gloomy silence, nor did he again rouse from it while I remained near him. I fancied I could read in his face and attitude the one wish to distance himself forever from the scene of this bitter revelation.

While we were still sitting, each one buried in his own reflections, the darkness of night began to fade. An owl, far off in the shadows, sounded the retreat of darkness with its strange note, like the gurgling of liquid from a bottle. Presently we heard a whinnying in the depths of the defile, and then, in the first rays of dawn, we saw a sledge approaching, driven by the Baron's servant. It was covered with straw, and upon it rested a litter, on which we laid the body of the old woman.

I mounted my horse, who did not seem sorry to stretch his legs again, having stood half the night in the snow, and I accompanied the sledge as far as the outlet of the glen. There, having gravely saluted one another for the last time, they proceeded in the direction of Hirschland, and I on my way towards the Castle of Nideck.

At nine o'clock I was again in Odile's presence.

"The Plague is dead!" I cried, "and the spell is raised forever from the Castle. Henceforth we may look for the olden days at Nideck."

And I related the extraordinary experiences of the last twenty-four hours, exulting in our victory over the hag. When I had finished, and recalled to my now happy love her promise of the day before, Odile dropped her eyes, flushed charmingly, and returned the pressure of my hand with averted head.

After some precious moments passed in the indulgence of our new-found happiness, I proceeded to the Count's chamber. I found him in a very satisfactory condition. He was naturally in a state of complete exhaustion after the terrible crises that he had been through, but was entirely himself, and the fever had disappeared the evening before. Everything pointed towards a speedy recovery.

"Monsieur," I said, as he greeted me with a warm grasp of my hand, "your restored health is assured, and it is but the matter of a few days when you will be able to indulge in your favorite pastime again."

"I believe you, monsieur! I feel that myself as I have never done before, and I am bound that you shall remain at Nideck and accompany me on my first boar hunt."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, monsieur," I replied. "Though an entire novice in the art, I shall doubtless gain much by employing my powers of observation."

"And furthermore," continued the Count, "your reward for this greatest of all services which you have performed for me shall be whatever you may require that lies within my gift!"

"Monsieur," I replied, bowing low, "your generosity overwhelms me. However, we will discuss the matter of compensation at a future time, when your strength will better admit of it. At present let me say that the existing state of affairs is an ample reward for anything I may have been able to accomplish in your behalf." And meanwhile I wondered if the Count realized the significance of his promise as I reflected upon the recompense I was presently to seek at his hands.

As his malady left him, I found the master of Nideck a changed man. His features, which had at first aroused only a sentiment of repugnance in me, slowly resumed their natural expression, and became dignified and even handsome. His generosity and kindness exceeded anything I had before experienced, and everything that Knapwurst had declared in his master's favor was realized to the utmost. From liking I grew to loving him, as I felt indeed I must have done if only as the author of Odile's being.

The fortnight that followed was one of rejoicing throughout Nideck. The Count gained with wonderful rapidity, and for a week past he had moved about the Castle with a buoyancy and contentment of demeanor which only Odile and the old steward could recall having seen in him long years before, ere the dead witch had yet entwined him in the meshes of her baneful spell.

Even the grim, melancholy Sebalt had become grotesquely gay, and he discontinued his matinal post on the Altenberg, feeling, no doubt, that he had contributed not a little to his master's recovery. As for Sperver, he was radiant, and he would come to my chamber late at night, after I had left Odile, and as we sat over our bottles we would discuss for the fiftieth time the circumstances of my stay within the Castle.

During the earlier stages of the Count's convalescence I repaired each morning to his chamber, where I invariably found Odile arrived before me, and as the Count was fond of reading, which served to wear away the period of his enforced inactivity, Odile and I would share for hours together the reading of "Garin the Lorrainer," which was one of his favorite romances.

The extent of my contentment may be imagined. Whenever I glanced up from my book as it became necessary to turn a page, I invariably met Odile's eyes fastened upon my face, and speaking the whole language of love and contentment, and when she in turn assumed the reading, I found myself lost in a world of reverie and speculation as I continued to study her beautiful face, which was always a revelation to me, no matter how long it remained before my gaze.

Oh, the delight of all this! How I pity you crabbed misanthropes who know not the richness of a loving woman's endearments!

I had determined, with Odile's sanction, to broach the subject of our betrothal to the Count as soon as his health would permit it.

Meanwhile, our hours at table were spent in laying plans for our future. I was sanguine of success in my avowal, for added to the Count's desire of seeing his line perpetuated,—which lay nearest his heart,—I knew that he felt, though how deservedly I leave it to the reader to determine, that I had been instrumental in restoring him to health. These considerations, combined with his invariable desire to secure to his daughter her slightest wish or whim, I believed would be sufficient to ensure the consummation of my desire. Moreover, with my beloved champion beside me, I felt strong enough to overcome the opposition of the universe.

But the future still held something in store, and as it often happens when we fancy ourselves beyond the reach of an adverse Fate, we may in reality be standing within the shadows of the Valley of Darkness.