man, I have to acquit myself of a debt towards thee. Dost thou remember our stay at R—sitten?"
This unexpected question threw me into inexpressible confusion. The old man perceived it, and continued without giving me time to seek for an answer.
"Cousin," said he, "thou wouldst have given thyself up without my aid, to a passion which might have plunged thee into an abyss of misfortune, if I had not withdrawn thee from R—sitten. There exists, concerning the master of that castle, a mysterious story, with which thy imprudence was near mixing thee. Now that the danger is past, listen to me; I wish, before death separates us, to reveal to thee strange facts. Perhaps thou wilt find, some day, occasion to profit by it."
And here is what the great uncle related to me, speaking of himself in the third person.
During a stormy night of 176–, the inhabitants of the manor of R—sitten were suddenly awakened by a shock like an earthquake. All the servants of this gloomy domain ran frightened through the rooms, to seek the cause of this event; but they found no vestige of destruction. All had returned to the secular calm, in which reposed the ancient family residence of R—sitten. Meanwhile, the old major-domo, Daniel, having gone up alone to the knight's hall, where baron Roderick, of R—sitten, retired every night after his labors in alchemy, to which he abandoned himself ardently, was seized with horror at the sight of a sorrowful spectacle. Between the door of Roderick's room and the door of another apartment, was a third door conducting to the summit of the castle-keep, into a pavilion that the baron had constructed for his experiments. Daniel having opened this door, a gust of wind extinguished his lamp; some bricks became detached from the wall, and fell into the gulf with a hoarse reverberation. Daniel fell upon his knees, exclaiming,
"Merciful heaven! our good master perished by a terrible death!"
