Carmilla - Joseph Le Fanu

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he Project Gutenberg EBook of Carmilla, by J. SheridanFanu

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tle: Carmilla

uthor: J. Sheridan LeFanu

elease Date: November 7, 2003 [EBook #10007]Date last updated: December 1, 2004]

nguage: English

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ot improbably, some of the profoundest rcana of our dual existence, and itstermediates."

was anxious on discovering this paper, toopen the correspondence commenced by

octor Hesselius, so many years before,ith a person so clever and careful as hisformant seems to have been. Much to my gret, however, I found that she had died the interval.

he, probably, could have added litt le to the

arrative which she communicates in thellowing pages, with, so far as I can

ronounce, such conscientious particularity .



I

An Early Frightn Styria, we, though by no meansagnificent people, inhabit a castle, or

chloss. A small income, in that part of theorld, goes a great way. Eight or nineundred a year does wonders. Scantily

nough ours would have answered amongealthy people at home. My father isnglish, and I bear an English name,though I never saw England. But here, in

his lonely and primitive place, whereverything is so marvelously cheap, I reallyon't see how ever so much more moneyould at all materially add to our comforts,r even luxuries.

y father was in the Austrian service, andetired upon a pension and his patrimony,nd purchased this feudal residence, and the

mall estate on which it stands, a bargain.

othing can be more picturesque or solitary.stands on a slight eminence in a forest.

he road, very old and narrow, passes inont of its drawbridge, never raised in myme, and its moat, stocked with perch, and

ailed over by many swans, and floating ons surface white fleets of water lilies.



ver all this the schloss shows its many-indowed front; its towers, and its Gothichapel.

he forest opens in an irregular and verycturesque glade before its gate, and at the

ght a steep Gothic bridge carries the roadver a stream that winds in deep shadowhrough the wood. I have said that this is aery lonely place. Judge whether I say truth.ooking from the hall door towards the road,he forest in which our castle stands extends

fteen miles to the right, and twelve to theft. The nearest inhabited village is abouteven of your English miles to the left. Theearest inhabited schloss of any historicssociations, is that of old Generalpielsdorf, nearly twenty miles away to theght.

have said "the nearest inhabited village,"ecause there is , only three miles westward,hat is to say in the direction of Generalpielsdorf's schloss, a ruined village, with itsuaint little church, now roofless, in thesle of which are the moldering tombs of

he proud family of Karnstein, now extinct,ho once owned the equally desolatehateau which, in the thick of the forest,verlooks the silent ruins of the town.

especting the cause of the desertion of thisriking and melancholy spot, there is agend which I shall relate to you anotherme.



must tell you now, how very small is thearty who constitute the inhabitants of ourastle. I don't include servants, or thoseependents who occupy rooms in theuildings attached to the schloss. Listen,

nd wonder! My father, who is the kindestan on earth, but growing old; and I, at theate of my story, only nineteen. Eight yearsave passed since then.

and my father constituted the family at thechloss. My mother, a Styrian lady, died in

y infancy, but I had a good-naturedoverness, who had been with me from, Iight almost say, my infancy. I could not

emember the time when her fat, benignantce was not a familiar picture in myemory.

his was Madame Perrodon, a native of erne, whose care and good nature now inart supplied to me the loss of my mother,hom I do not even remember, so early Ist her. She made a third at our litt le dinnerarty. There was a fourth, Mademoiselle De

afontaine, a lady such as you term, Ielieve, a "finishing governess." She spokerench and German, Madame Perrodonrench and broken English, to which myther and I added English, which, partly to

revent its becoming a lost language amongs, and partly from patriotic motives, we

poke every day. The consequence was aabel, at which stran ers used to lau h, and



hich I shall make no attempt to reproduce this narrative. And there were two or

hree young lady friends besides, prettyearly of my own age, who were occasionalsitors, for longer or shorter terms; and

hese visits I sometimes returned.

hese were our regular social resources; butf course there were chance visits fromneighbors" of only five or six leaguesstance. My life was, notwithstanding,ther a solitary one, I can assure you.

y gouvernantes had just so much controlver me as you might conjecture such sageersons would have in the case of a ratherpoiled girl, whose only parent allowed herretty nearly her own way in everything.

he first occurrence in my existence, which

roduced a terrible impression upon myind, which, in fact, never has been effaced,as one of the very earliest incidents of myfe which I can recollect. Some people willhink it so trifling that it should not beecorded here. You will see, however, by-

nd-by, why I mention it. The nursery, as itas called, though I had it all to myself,as a large room in the upper story of theastle, with a steep oak roof. I can't haveeen more than six years old, when oneght I awoke, and looking round the roomom my bed, failed to see the nursery maid.

either was my nurse there; and I thoughtyself alone. I was not frightened, for I was



ne of those happy children who areudiously kept in ignorance of ghost stories,

f fairy tales, and of all such lore as makess cover up our heads when the door cracksuddenly, or the flicker of an expiring candleakes the shadow of a bedpost dance upon

he wall, nearer to our faces. I was vexednd insulted at finding myself, as Ionceived, neglected, and I began tohimper, preparatory to a hearty bout of

oaring; when to my surprise, I saw aolemn, but very pretty face looking at meom the side of the bed. It was that of a

oung lady who was kneeling, with herands under the coverlet. I looked at herith a kind of pleased wonder, and ceasedhimpering. She caressed me with herands, and lay down beside me on the bed,nd drew me towards her, smiling; I felt

mmediately delightfully soothed, and fellsleep again. I was wakened by a sensations if two needles ran into my breast veryeep at the same moment, and I criedudly. The lady started back, with her eyesxed on me, and then slipped down uponhe floor, and, as I thought, hid herself

nder the bed.

was now for the first time frightened, and Ielled with all my might and main. Nurse,ursery maid, housekeeper, all came running, and hearing my story, they made light of , soothing me all they could meanwhile.

ut, child as I was, I could perceive thatheir faces were pale with an unwonted look



f anxiety, and I saw them look under theed, and about the room, and peep underbles and pluck open cupboards; and the

ousekeeper whispered to the nurse: "Layour hand along that hollow in the bed;omeone did lie there, so sure as you did

ot; the place is stil l warm."

remember the nursery maid petting me,nd all three examining my chest, where Iold them I felt the puncture, andronouncing that there was no sign visiblehat any such thing had happened to me.

he housekeeper and the two other servantsho were in charge of the nursery, remainedtting up all night; and from that time aervant always sat up in the nursery until Ias about fourteen.

was very nervous for a long time after this.doctor was called in, he was pallid andderly. How well I remember his long

aturnine face, slightly pitted with smallpox,nd his chestnut wig. For a good while,very second day, he came and gave me

edicine, which of course I hated.

he morning after I saw this apparition Ias in a state of terror, and could not bear

o be left alone, daylight though it was, formoment.

remember my father coming up andanding at the bedside, and talking



heerfully, and asking the nurse a number of uestions, and laughing very heartily at onef the answers; and patting me on thehoulder, and kiss ing me, and telling me noto be frightened, that it was nothing but aream and could not hurt me.

ut I was not comforted, for I knew the visitf the strange woman was not a dream; andwas awfully frightened.

was a l itt le consoled by the nursery maid'sssuring me that it was she who had come

nd looked at me, and lain down beside me the bed, and that I must have been half-reaming not to have known her face. Buthis, though supported by the nurse, did notuite sat isfy me.

remembered, in the course of that day, a

enerable old man, in a black cassock,oming into the room with the nurse andousekeeper, and talking a little to them,nd very kindly to me; his face was veryweet and gentle, and he told me they wereoing to pray, and joined my hands

ogether, and desired me to say, softly,hile they were praying, "Lord hear all goodrayers for us, for Jesus' sake." I think theseere the very words, for I often repeated

hem to myself, and my nurse used for yearso make me say them in my prayers.

remembered so well the thoughtful sweetce of that white-haired old man, in his



ack cassock, as he stood in that rude,fty, brown room, with the clumsy furnituref a fashion three hundred years old aboutm, and the scanty light entering its

hadowy atmosphere through the smallttice. He kneeled, and the three women

ith him, and he prayed aloud with anarnest quavering voice for, what appearedo me, a long time. I forget all my lifereceding that event, and for some t imefter it is all obscure also, but the scenes Iave just described stand out vivid as theolated pictures of the phantasmagoria

urrounded by darkness.



II

A Guest

am now going to tell you something sorange that it will require all your faith iny veracity to believe my story. It is not

nly true, nevertheless, but truth of which Iave been an eyewitness.

was a sweet summer evening, and myther asked me, as he sometimes did, toke a little ramble with him along that

eautiful forest vista which I haveentioned as lying in front of the schloss.

General Spielsdorf cannot come to us sooon as I had hoped," said my father, as weursued our walk.

e was to have paid us a visit of someeeks, and we had expected his arrival nextay. He was to have brought with him aoung lady, his niece and ward,ademoiselle Rheinfeldt, whom I had nevereen, but whom I had heard described as aery charming girl, and in whose society I

ad promised myself many happy days. Ias more disappointed than a young lady



ving in a town, or a bustling neighborhoodan possibly imagine. This visit, and the newcquaintance it promised, had furnished myay dream for many weeks.

And how soon does he come?" I asked.

Not till autumn. Not for two months, I dareay," he answered. "And I am very glad now,ear, that you never knew Mademoiselleheinfeldt."

And why?" I asked, both mortified and

urious.

Because the poor young lady is dead," heeplied. "I quite forgot I had not told you,ut you were not in the room when Iceived the General's letter this evening."

was very much shocked. General Spielsdorf ad mentioned in his first letter, six oreven weeks before, that she was not soell as he would wish her, but there wasothing to suggest the remotest suspicion of anger.

Here is the General's letter," he said,anding it to me. "I am afraid he is in greatffliction; the letter appears to me to haveeen written very nearly in distraction."

e sat down on a rude bench, under a group

f magnificent lime trees. The sun wasetting with all its melancholy splendorehind the s lvan horizon and the stream



hat flows beside our home, and passesnder the steep old bridge I haveentioned, wound through many a group of oble trees, almost at our feet, reflecting ins current the fading crimson of the sky.eneral Spielsdorf's letter was so

xtraordinary, so vehement, and in someaces so self-contradictory, that I read it

wice over--the second time aloud to myther--and was still unable to account for it,

xcept by supposing that grief had unsettleds mind.

said "I have lost my darling daughter, fors such I loved her. During the last days of ear Bertha's il lness I was not able to writeo you.

efore then I had no idea of her danger. I

ave lost her, and now learn all , too late.he died in the peace of innocence, and inhe glorious hope of a blessed futurity. Theend who betrayed our infatuated hospitalityas done it all. I thought I was receivingto my house innocence, gaiety, a charming

ompanion for my lost Bertha. Heavens!

hat a fool have I been!

thank God my child died without auspicion of the cause of her sufferings. She

gone without so much as conjecturing theature of her illness, and the accursedassion of the agent of all this misery. I

evote my remaining days to tracking andxtin uishin a monster. I am told I ma



ope to accomplish my righteous anderciful purpose. At present there is scarcelygleam of light to guide me. I curse my

onceited incredulity, my despicableffectat ion of superiority, my blindness, mybstinacy--all--too late. I cannot write or

lk collectedly now. I am distracted. Sooon as I shall have a little recovered, Iean to devote myself for a t ime to enquiry,hich may possibly lead me as far asenna. Some time in the autumn, twoonths hence, or earlier if I live, I will see

ou--that is, if you permit me; I will then

ell you all that I scarce dare put upon paperow. Farewell. Pray for me, dear friend."

n these terms ended this strange letter.hough I had never seen Bertha Rheinfeldty eyes filled with tears at the sudden

telligence; I was startled, as well asrofoundly disappointed.

he sun had now set, and it was twilight byhe time I had returned the General's lettero my father.

was a soft clear evening, and we loitered,peculating upon the possible meanings of he violent and incoherent sentences which Iad just been reading. We had nearly a mileo walk before reaching the road that passeshe schloss in front, and by that time theoon was shining brilliantly. At the

rawbridge we met Madame Perrodon andademoiselle De Lafontaine, who had come



ut, without their bonnets, to enjoy thexquisite moonlight.

e heard their voices gabbling in animatedalogue as we approached. We joined them

t the drawbridge, and turned about to

dmire with them the beautiful scene.

he glade through which we had just walkedy before us. At our left the narrow roadound away under clumps of lordly trees,nd was lost to sight amid the thickeningrest. At the right the same road crosses

he steep and picturesque bridge, near whichands a ruined tower which once guarded

hat pass; and beyond the bridge an abruptminence rises, covered with trees, andhowing in the shadows some grey ivy-ustered rocks.

ver the sward and low grounds a thin filmf mist was stealing like smoke, marking thestances with a transparent veil; and herend there we could see the river faintlyashing in the moonlight.

o softer, sweeter scene could be imagined.he news I had just heard made itelancholy; but nothing could disturb its

haracter of profound serenity, and thenchanted glory and vagueness of therospect.

y father, who enjoyed the picturesque, andstood looking in silence over the expanse



eneath us. The two good governesses,anding a litt le way behind us, discoursed

pon the scene, and were eloquent upon theoon.

adame Perrodon was fat, middle-aged, and

mantic, and talked and sighed poetically.ademoiselle De Lafontaine--in right of herther who was a German, assumed to be

sychological, metaphysical, and somethingf a mystic--now declared that when theoon shone with a light so intense it wasell known that it indicated a special

piritual activity. The effect of the full moon such a state of brilliancy was manifold. It

cted on dreams, it acted on lunacy, it actedn nervous people, it had marvelous physicalfluences connected with life. Mademoisellelated that her cousin, who was mate of a

erchant ship, having taken a nap on deckn such a night, lying on his back, with hisce full in the l ight on the moon, hadakened, after a dream of an old womanawing him by the cheek, with his featuresorribly drawn to one s ide; and hisountenance had never quite recovered its

quilibrium.

The moon, this night," she said, "is full of yllic and magnetic influence--and see,hen you look behind you at the front of thechloss how all its windows flash andwinkle with that silvery splendor, as if

nseen hands had lighted up the rooms toeceive fairy guests."



here are indolent styles of the spirits inhich, indisposed to talk ourselves, the talkf others is pleasant to our listless ears;nd I gazed on, pleased with the tinkle of he ladies' conversation.

have got into one of my moping moodsonight," said my father, after a s ilence, anduoting Shakespeare, whom, by way of eeping up our English, he used to readoud, he said:

In truth I know not why I am so sad.wearies me: you say it wearies you;ut how I got it--came by it.'

forget the rest. But I feel as if some greatisfortune were hanging over us. I suppose

he poor General's afflicted letter has had

omething to do with it."

t this moment the unwonted sound of arriage wheels and many hoofs upon theoad, arrested our attention.

hey seemed to be approaching from the

gh ground overlooking the bridge, and veryoon the equipage emerged from that point.wo horsemen first crossed the bridge, thename a carriage drawn by four horses, andwo men rode behind.

seemed to be the traveling carriage of a

erson of rank; and we were all immediatelybsorbed in watchin that ver unusual



pectacle. It became, in a few moments,reatly more interesting, for just as thearriage had passed the summit of the steepridge, one of the leaders, taking fright,ommunicated his panic to the rest, andfter a plunge or two, the whole team broke

to a wild gallop together, and dashingetween the horsemen who rode in front,ame thundering along the road towards usith the speed of a hurricane.

he excitement of the scene was made moreainful by the clear, long-drawn screams of a

male voice from the carriage window.

e all advanced in curios ity and horror; meather in silence, the rest with variousaculations of terror.

ur suspense did not last long. Just before

ou reach the castle drawbridge, on theoute they were coming, there stands by theadside a magnificent lime tree, on the

ther stands an ancient stone cross, at sightf which the horses, now going at a pacehat was perfectly frightful, swerved so as to

ring the wheel over the projecting roots of he tree.

knew what was coming. I covered my eyes,nable to see it out, and turned my headway; at the same moment I heard a cryom my lady friends, who had gone on a

ttle.



uriosity opened my eyes, and I saw a scenef utter confusion. Two of the horses weren the ground, the carriage lay upon its sideith two wheels in the air; the men wereusy removing the traces, and a lady with aommanding air and figure had got out, and

ood with clasped hands, raising theandkerchief that was in them every nownd then to her eyes.

hrough the carriage door was now lifted aoung lady, who appeared to be l ifeless. Myear old father was already beside the elder

dy, with his hat in his hand, evidentlyendering his aid and the resources of hischloss. The lady did not appear to hearm, or to have eyes for anything but theender girl who was being placed against

he slope of the bank.

approached; the young lady was apparentlyunned, but she was certainly not dead. Myther, who piqued himself on being

omething of a physician, had just had hisngers on her wrist and assured the lady,ho declared herself her mother, that her

ulse, though faint and irregular, wasndoubtedly still distinguishable. The ladyasped her hands and looked upward, as if a momentary transport of gratitude; but

mmediately she broke out again in thatheatrical way which is, I believe, natural toome people.

he was what is called a fine looking woman



r her time of life, and must have beenandsome; she was tall, but not thin, andressed in black velvet, and looked ratherale, but with a proud and commandingountenance, though now agitated strangely.

Who was ever being so born to calamity?" Ieard her say, with clasped hands, as Iame up. "Here am I, on a journey of lifend death, in prosecuting which to lose anour is possibly to lose all. My child will notave recovered sufficiently to resume heroute for who can say how long. I must leave

er: I cannot, dare not, delay. How far on,r, can you tell, is the nearest village? Iust leave her there; and shall not see my

arling, or even hear of her till my return,hree months hence."

plucked my father by the coat, andhispered earnestly in his ear: "Oh! papa,ray ask her to let her stay with us--it woulde so delightful. Do, pray."

f Madame will entrust her child to the caref my daughter, and of her good

ouvernante, Madame Perrodon, and permiter to remain as our guest, under my charge,ntil her return, it will confer a distinctionnd an obligation upon us, and we shalleat her with all the care and devotionhich so sacred a trust deserves."

cannot do that, sir, it would be to taskour kindness and chivalry too cruelly," said



ightly to my father, and withdrew two orhree steps with him out of hearing; andlked to him with a fixed and stern

ountenance, not at all like that with whichhe had hitherto spoken.

was filled with wonder that my father didot seem to perceive the change, and alsonspeakably curious to learn what it coulde that she was speaking, almost in his ear,ith so much earnestness and rapidity.

wo or three minutes at most I think she

mained thus employed, then she turned,nd a few steps brought her to where heraughter lay, supported by Madameerrodon. She kneeled beside her for aoment and whispered, as Madame

upposed, a little benediction in her ear;hen hastily kissing her she stepped into herarriage, the door was closed, the footmen stately liveries jumped up behind, the

utriders spurred on, the post ilions crackedheir whips, the horses plunged and brokeuddenly into a furious canter thathreatened soon again to become a gallop,

nd the carriage whirled away, followed athe same rapid pace by the two horsemen ine rear.



III

We Compare Notes

e followed the cortege with our eyes untilwas swiftly lost to sight in the mistyood; and the very sound of the hoofs and

he wheels died away in the silent night air.

othing remained to assure us that thedventure had not been an illusion of aoment but the young lady, who just at thatoment opened her eyes. I could not see,r her face was turned from me, but she

aised her head, evidently looking about her,nd I heard a very sweet voice askomplainingly, "Where is mamma?"

ur good Madame Perrodon answeredenderly, and added some comfortablessurances.

then heard her ask:

Where am I? What is this place?" and afterhat she said, "I don't see the carriage; andatska, where is she?"

adame answered all her questions in so fars she understood them; and gradually the



oung lady remembered how theisadventure came about, and was glad toear that no one in, or in attendance on, thearriage was hurt; and on learning that heramma had left her here, t ill her return in

bout three months, she wept.

was going to add my consolations to thosef Madame Perrodon when Mademoiselle Deafontaine placed her hand upon my arm,aying:

Don't approach, one at a t ime is as much as

he can at present converse with; a veryttle excitement would possibly overpowerer now."

s soon as she is comfortably in bed, Ihought, I will run up to her room and seeer.

y father in the meantime had sent aervant on horseback for the physician, whoved about two leagues away; and aedroom was being prepared for the youngdy's reception.

he stranger now rose, and leaning onadame's arm, walked slowly over therawbridge and into the castle gate.

n the hall, servants waited to receive her,nd she was conducted forthwith to her

om. The room we usually sat in as ourrawing room is long, having four windows,



hat looked over the moat and drawbridge,pon the forest scene I have just described.

is furnished in old carved oak, with largearved cabinets, and the chairs areushioned with crimson Utrecht velvet. The

alls are covered with tapestry, andurrounded with great gold frames, thegures being as large as life, in ancient andery curious costume, and the subjectspresented are hunting, hawking, and

enerally festive. It is not too stately to bextremely comfortable; and here we had our

ea, for with his usual patriotic leanings hesisted that the national beverage shouldake its appearance regularly with our

offee and chocolate.

e sat here this night, and with candlesghted, were talking over the adventure of he evening.

adame Perrodon and Mademoiselle Deafontaine were both of our party. The youngranger had hardly lain down in her bedhen she sank into a deep sleep; and those

dies had left her in the care of a servant.

How do you like our guest?" I asked, asoon as Madame entered. "Tell me all abouter?"

like her extremely," answered Madame,

he is, I almost think, the prettiest creatureever saw; about your age, and so gentle



nd nice."

She is absolutely beautiful," threw inademoiselle, who had peeped for aoment into the stranger's room.

And such a sweet voice!" added Madameerrodon.

Did you remark a woman in the carriage,fter it was set up again, who did not getut," inquired Mademoiselle, "but onlyoked from the window?"

No, we had not seen her."

hen she described a hideous black woman,ith a sort of colored turban on her head,nd who was gazing all the t ime from thearriage window, nodding and grinning

erisively towards the ladies, with gleamingyes and large white eyeballs, and her teethet as if in fury.

Did you remark what an ill-looking pack of en the servants were?" asked Madame.

Yes," said my father, who had just come in,ugly, hang-dog looking fellows as ever Ieheld in my life. I hope they mayn't rob theoor lady in the forest. They are clevergues, however; they got everything toghts in a minute."

dare say they are worn out with too longaveling," said Madame.



Besides looking wicked, their faces were sorangely lean, and dark, and sullen. I am

ery curious, I own; but I dare say the youngdy will tell you all about it tomorrow, if shesufficiently recovered."

don't think she will," said my father, withmysterious smile, and a little nod of his

ead, as if he knew more about it than heared to tell us.

his made us all the more inquisitive as to

hat had passed between him and the lady the black velvet, in the brief but earnestterview that had immediately preceded her

eparture.

e were scarcely alone, when I entreatedm to tell me. He did not need much

ressing.

There is no particular reason why I shouldot tell you. She expressed a reluctance toouble us with the care of her daughter,aying she was in delicate health, andervous, but not subject to any kind of eizure--she volunteered that--nor to anyusion; being, in fact, perfectly sane."

How very odd to say all that!" Iterpolated. "It was so unnecessary."

At all events it was said," he laughed, "ands you wish to know all that passed, whichas indeed ver little I tell ou. She then



aid, 'I am making a long journey of vital mportance--she emphasized the word--rapidnd secret; I shall return for my child inhree months; in the meantime, she will belent as to who we are, whence we come,nd whither we are traveling.' That is all she

aid. She spoke very pure French. When sheaid the word 'secret,' she paused for a feweconds, looking sternly, her eyes fixed onine. I fancy she makes a great point of

hat. You saw how quickly she was gone. Iope I have not done a very foolish thing, inking charge of the young lady."

or my part, I was delighted. I was longingo see and talk to her; and only wait ing tillhe doctor should give me leave. You, whove in towns, can have no idea how great anvent the introduction of a new friend is, in

uch a solitude as surrounded us.

he doctor did not arrive till nearly oneclock; but I could no more have gone to myed and slept, than I could have overtaken,n foot, the carriage in which the princess inack velvet had driven away.

hen the physician came down to therawing room, it was to report very favorablypon his patient. She was now sitting up,er pulse quite regular, apparently perfectlyell. She had sustained no injury, and thettle shock to her nerves had passed away

uite harmlessly. There could be no harmertainl in m seein her if we both wished



; and, with this permission I sent,rthwith, to know whether she would allowe to visit her for a few minutes in her

oom.

he servant returned immediately to say

hat she desired nothing more.

ou may be sure I was not long in availingyself of this permission.

ur visitor lay in one of the handsomestoms in the schloss. It was, perhaps, a

ttle stately. There was a somber piece of pestry opposite the foot of the bed,

epresenting Cleopatra with the asps to herosom; and other solemn classic scenesere displayed, a little faded, upon thether walls. But there was gold carving, andch and varied color enough in the other

ecorations of the room, to more thandeem the gloom of the old tapestry.

here were candles at the bedside. She wastt ing up; her slender pretty figurenveloped in the soft silk dressing gown,

mbroidered with flowers, and lined withhick quilted silk, which her mother hadhrown over her feet as she lay upon theround.

hat was it that, as I reached the bedsidend had just begun my little greeting, struck

e dumb in a moment, and made me recoilstep or two from before her? I will tell you.



saw the very face which had visited me iny childhood at night, which remained soxed in my memory, and on which I had foro many years so often ruminated withorror, when no one suspected of what I washinking.

was pretty, even beautiful; and when Irst beheld it , wore the same melancholyxpression.

ut this almost instantly lighted into arange fixed smile of recognition.

here was a silence of fully a minute, andhen at length she spoke; I could not.

How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Twelveears ago, I saw your face in a dream, and itas haunted me ever since."

Wonderful indeed!" I repeated, overcomingith an effort the horror that had for a timeuspended my utterances. "Twelve yearsgo, in vision or reality, I certainly saw you.could not forget your face. It has remained

efore my eyes ever since."

er smile had softened. Whatever I hadncied strange in it, was gone, and it and

er dimpling cheeks were now delightfullyretty and intelligent.

felt reassured, and continued more in theein which hos italit indicated, to bid her



elcome, and to tell her how much pleasureer accidental arrival had given us all, andspecially what a happiness it was to me.

took her hand as I spoke. I was a litt lehy, as lonely people are, but the situation

ade me eloquent, and even bold. Sheressed my hand, she laid hers upon it, ander eyes glowed, as, looking hastily intoine, she smiled again, and blushed.

he answered my welcome very prettily. Iat down beside her, still wondering; and

he said:

must tell you my vision about you; it is soery strange that you and I should have had,ach of the other so vivid a dream, that eachhould have seen, I you and you me, lookings we do now, when of course we both were

ere children. I was a child, about six yearsd, and I awoke from a confused andoubled dream, and found myself in a room,nlike my nursery, wainscoted clumsily inome dark wood, and with cupboards andedsteads, and chairs, and benches placed

bout it . The beds were, I thought, allmpty, and the room itself without anyoneut myself in it; and I, after looking aboute for some time, and admiring especially

n iron candlestick with two branches, whichshould certainly know again, crept underne of the beds to reach the window; but as

got from under the bed, I heard someonerying; and looking up, while I was still upon



y knees, I saw you--most assuredly you--s I see you now; a beautiful young lady,ith golden hair and large blue eyes, andps--your lips--you as you are here.

Your looks won me; I climbed on the bed

nd put my arms about you, and I think weoth fell asleep. I was aroused by a scream;ou were sitting up screaming. I wasightened, and slipped down upon theround, and, it seemed to me, lostonsciousness for a moment; and when Iame to myself, I was again in my nursery at

ome. Your face I have never forgottennce. I could not be misled by mere

esemblance. You are the lady whom I sawhen."

was now my turn to relate myorresponding vision, which I did, to thendisguised wonder of my new acquaintance.

don't know which should be most afraid of he other," she said, again smiling--"If youere less pretty I think I should be veryuch afraid of you, but being as you are,

nd you and I both so young, I feel only thathave made your acquaintance twelve yearsgo, and have already a right to yourtimacy; at all events it does seem as if weere destined, from our earliest childhood,

o be friends. I wonder whether you feel asrangely drawn towards me as I do to you;

have never had a friend--shall I find oneow?" She sighed, and her fine dark eyes



azed passionately on me.

ow the truth is, I felt rather unaccountablyowards the beautiful stranger. I did feel, ashe said, "drawn towards her," but there wasso something of repulsion. In this

mbiguous feeling, however, the sense of ttraction immensely prevailed. Sheterested and won me; she was so beautiful

nd so indescribably engaging.

perceived now something of languor andxhaustion stealing over her, and hastened

o bid her good night.

The doctor thinks," I added, "that you oughto have a maid to sit up with you tonight;ne of ours is waiting, and you will find hervery useful and quiet creature."

How kind of you, but I could not sleep, Iever could with an attendant in the room. Ihan't require any assistance--and, shall Ionfess my weakness, I am haunted with arror of robbers. Our house was robbed

nce, and two servants murdered, so I

ways lock my door. It has become a habit--nd you look so kind I know you will forgivee. I see there is a key in the lock."

he held me close in her pretty arms for aoment and whispered in my ear, "Goodght, darling, it is very hard to part with

ou, but good night; tomorrow, but notarly, I shall see you again."



he sank back on the pillow with a sigh, ander fine eyes followed me with a fond andelancholy gaze, and she murmured again

Good night, dear friend."

oung people like, and even love, on

mpulse. I was flattered by the evident,hough as yet undeserved, fondness shehowed me. I liked the confidence withhich she at once received me. She wasetermined that we should be very neariends.

ext day came and we met again. I waselighted with my companion; that is to say, many respects.

er looks lost nothing in daylight--she wasertainly the most beautiful creature I had

ver seen, and the unpleasant remembrancef the face presented in my early dream, hadst the effect of the first unexpected

ecognition.

he confessed that she had experienced amilar shock on seeing me, and precisely

he same faint antipathy that had mingledith my admiration of her. We now laughed

ogether over our momentary horrors.



, and spread it out and play with it.eavens! If I had but known all!

said there were particulars which did notease me. I have told you that her

onfidence won me the first night I saw her;

ut I found that she exercised with respecto herself, her mother, her history,verything in fact connected with her life,ans, and people, an ever wakeful reserve. Iare say I was unreasonable, perhaps I wasrong; I dare say I ought to have respected

he solemn injunction laid upon my father by

he stately lady in black velvet. But curiositya restless and unscrupulous passion, and

o one girl can endure, with patience, thaters should be baffled by another. Whatarm could it do anyone to te ll me what I sordently desired to know? Had she no trust

my good sense or honor? W hy would sheot bel ieve me when I assured her, soolemnly, that I would not divulge oneyllable of what she told me to any mortalreathing.

here was a coldness, it seemed to me,

eyond her years, in her smiling melancholyersistent refusal to afford me the least rayf light.

cannot say we quarreled upon this point,r she would not quarrel upon any. It was,

f course, very unfair of me to press her,

ery ill-bred, but I really could not help it;nd I might just as well have let it alone.



hat she did tell me amounted, in mynconscionable estimation--to nothing.

was all summed up in three very vaguesclosures:

rst--Her name was Carmilla.

econd--Her family was very ancient andoble.

hird--Her home lay in the direction of theest.

he would not tell me the name of hermily, nor their armorial bearings, nor theame of their estate, nor even that of theountry they lived in.

ou are not to suppose that I worried hercessantly on these subjects. I watched

pportunity, and rather insinuated thanrged my inquiries. Once or twice, indeed, Id attack her more directly. But no matterhat my tactics, utter failure was invariably

he result. Reproaches and caresses were all

st upon her. But I must add this, that hervasion was conducted with so pretty aelancholy and deprecation, with so many,

nd even passionate declarations of herking for me, and trust in my honor, andith so many promises that I should at lastnow all, that I could not find it in my heart

ng to be offended with her.



he used to place her pretty arms about myeck, draw me to her, and laying her cheeko mine, murmur with her lips near my ear,Dearest, your little heart is wounded; thinke not cruel because I obey the irresist iblew of my strength and weakness; if your

ear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleedsith yours. In the rapture of my enormousumiliation I live in your warm life, and youhall die--die, sweetly die--into mine. Iannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, inour turn, will draw near to others, and learnhe rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love;

o, for a while, seek to know no more of mend mine, but trust me with all your lovingpirit."

nd when she had spoken such a rhapsody,he would press me more closely in her

embling embrace, and her lips in softsses gently glow upon my cheek.

er agitations and her language werenintelligible to me.

rom these foolish embraces, which were not

f very frequent occurrence, I must allow, Ised to wish to extricate myself; but mynergies seemed to fail me. Her murmuredords sounded like a lullaby in my ear, andoothed my resistance into a trance, fromhich I only seemed to recover myself whenhe withdrew her arms.

n these mysterious moods I did not like



er. I experienced a strange tumultuousxcitement that was pleasurable, ever andnon, mingled with a vague sense of fearnd disgust. I had no distinct thoughtsbout her while such scenes lasted, but Ias conscious of a love growing into

doration, and also of abhorrence. This Inow is paradox, but I can make no otherttempt to explain the feeling.

now write, after an interval of more thanen years, with a trembling hand, with aonfused and horrible recollection of certain

ccurrences and situations, in the ordealhrough which I was unconsciously passing;hough with a vivid and very sharpemembrance of the main current of myory.

ut, I suspect, in all lives there are certainmotional scenes, those in which ourassions have been most wildly and terriblyused, that are of all others the most

aguely and dimly remembered.

ometimes after an hour of apathy, my

range and beautiful companion would takey hand and hold it with a fond pressure,newed again and again; blushing soft ly,

azing in my face with languid and burningyes, and breathing so fast that her dressse and fell with the tumultuous

espiration. It was like the ardor of a lover;

embarrassed me; it was hateful and yetver-powering; and with gloating eyes she



rew me to her, and her hot lips traveledong my cheek in kisses; and she wouldhisper, almost in sobs, "You are mine, youhall be mine, you and I are one for ever."hen she had thrown herself back in herhair, with her small hands over her eyes,

aving me trembling.

Are we related," I used to ask; "what canou mean by all this? I remind you perhapsf someone whom you love; but you mustot, I hate it; I don't know you--I don't knowyself when you look so and talk so."

he used to sigh at my vehemence, thenrn away and drop my hand.

especting these very extraordinaryanifestat ions I strove in vain to form any

atisfactory theory--I could not refer them to

ffectation or trick. It was unmistakably theomentary breaking out of suppressedstinct and emotion. Was she,otwithstanding her mother's volunteeredenial, subject to brief visitat ions of sanity; or was there here a disguise and a

omance? I had read in old storybooks of uch things. What if a boyish lover hadund his way into the house, and sought to

rosecute his suit in masquerade, with thessistance of a clever old adventuress. Buthere were many things against thisypothesis, highly interesting as it was to

y vanity.



could boast of no little attentions such asasculine gallantry delights to offer.etween these passionate moments thereere long intervals of commonplace, of aiety, of brooding melancholy, duringhich, except that I detected her eyes so

ll of melancholy fire, following me, atmes I might have been as nothing to her.xcept in these brief periods of mysteriousxcitement her ways were girlish; and thereas always a languor about her, quitecompatible with a masculine system in aate of health.

n some respects her habits were odd.erhaps not so singular in the opinion of aown lady like you, as they appeared to usustic people. She used to come down veryte, generally not t ill one o'clock, she would

hen take a cup of chocolate, but eatothing; we then went out for a walk, whichas a mere saunter, and she seemed,most immediately, exhausted, and eitherturned to the schloss or sat on one of the

enches that were placed, here and there,mong the trees. This was a bodily languor

which her mind did not sympathize. Sheas always an animated talker, and verytelligent.

he sometimes alluded for a moment to herwn home, or mentioned an adventure ortuation, or an early recollection, which

dicated a people of strange manners, andescribed customs of which we knew



othing. I gathered from these chance hintsat her native country was much moremote than I had at first fancied.

s we sat thus one afternoon under theees a funeral passed us by. It was that of

pretty young girl, whom I had often seen,he daughter of one of the rangers of therest. The poor man was walking behind the

offin of his darling; she was his only child,nd he looked quite heartbroken.

easants walking two-and-two came behind,

hey were s inging a funeral hymn.

rose to mark my respect as they passed,nd joined in the hymn they were veryweetly singing.

y companion shook me a little roughly, and

turned surprised.

he said brusquely, "Don't you perceive howscordant that is?"

think it very sweet, on the contrary," Inswered, vexed at the interruption, andery uncomfortable, lest the people whoomposed the little procession shouldbserve and resent what was passing.

resumed, therefore, instantly, and wasgain interrupted. "You pierce my ears," said

armilla, almost angrily, and stopping herars with her tiny fingers. "Besides, how canou tell that our reli ion and mine are the



ose; hold my hand; press it hard-hard-arder."

e had moved a l itt le back, and had comeo another seat.

he sat down. Her face underwent a changehat alarmed and even terrified me for aoment. It darkened, and became horribly

vid; her teeth and hands were clenched,nd she frowned and compressed her lips,hile she stared down upon the ground ater feet, and trembled all over with a

ontinued shudder as irrepressible as ague.l her energies seemed strained to suppressfit, with which she was then breathlesslygging; and at length a low convulsive cry

f suffering broke from her, and graduallyhe hysteria subsided. "There! That comes of rangling people with hymns!" she said atst. "Hold me, hold me still. It is passingway."

nd so gradually it did; and perhaps toss ipate the somber impression which the

pectacle had left upon me, she became

nusually animated and chatty; and so weot home.

his was the first time I had seen herxhibit any definable symptoms of thatelicacy of health which her mother hadpoken of. It was the first time, also, I had

een her exhibit anything like temper.



oth passed away like a summer cloud; andever but once afterwards did I witness oner part a momentary sign of anger. I willell you how it happened.

he and I were looking out of one of the

ng drawing room windows, when therentered the courtyard, over the drawbridge,figure of a wanderer whom I knew veryell. He used to visit the schloss generally

wice a year.

was the figure of a hunchback, with the

harp lean features that generallyccompany deformity. He wore a pointedack beard, and he was smiling from ear toar, showing his white fangs. He wasressed in buff, black, and scarlet, androssed with more straps and belts than Iould count, from which hung all manner of hings. Behind, he carried a magic lantern,nd two boxes, which I well knew, in one of hich was a salamander, and in the other aandrake. These monsters used to make myther laugh. They were compounded of

arts of monkeys, parrots, squirrels, fish,

nd hedgehogs, dried and stitched togetherith great neatness and startling effect. Head a fiddle, a box of conjuring apparatus, aair of foils and masks attached to his belt,everal other mysterious cases danglingbout him, and a black staff with copperrrules in his hand. His companion was a

ough spare dog, that followed at his heels,ut stopped short, suspiciously at the



rawbridge, and in a litt le while began toowl dismally.

n the meantime, the mountebank, standing the midst of the courtyard, raised hisrotesque hat, and made us a very

eremonious bow, paying his complimentsery volubly in execrable French, and Germanot much better.

hen, disengaging his fiddle, he began tocrape a lively air to which he sang with aerry discord, dancing with ludicrous airs

nd activity, that made me laugh, in spite of he dog's howling.

hen he advanced to the window with manymiles and salutations, and his hat in hisft hand, his fiddle under his arm, and withfluency that never took breath, he gabbled

long advertisement of all hisccomplishments, and the resources of thearious arts which he placed at our service,nd the curiosities and entertainments whichwas in his power, at our bidding, tosplay.

W ill your ladyships be pleased to buy anmulet against the oupire, which is goingke the wolf, I hear, through these woods,"e said dropping his hat on the pavement.They are dying of it right and left and here

a charm that never fails; only pinned to

he pillow, and you may laugh in his face."



hese charms consisted of oblong slips of ellum, with cabalistic ciphers and diagramspon them.

armilla instantly purchased one, and so did

e was looking up, and we were smilingown upon him, amused; at least, I cannswer for myself. His piercing black eye, ase looked up in our faces, seemed to detectomething that fixed for a moment hisuriosity,

n an instant he unrolled a leather case, fullf all manner of odd little steel instruments.

See here, my lady," he said, displaying it,nd addressing me, "I profess, among otherhings less useful, the art of dentistry.

ague take the dog!" he interpolated.Silence, beast! He howls so that yourdyships can scarcely hear a word. Youroble friend, the young lady at your right,as the sharpest tooth,--long, thin, pointed,ke an awl, like a needle; ha, ha! W ith my

harp and long sight, as I look up, I haveeen it dist inctly; now if it happens to hurthe young lady, and I think it must, here am

here are my file, my punch, my nippers; Iill make it round and blunt, if her ladyshipeases; no longer the tooth of a fish, but of beautiful young lady as she is. Hey? Is the

oung lady displeased? Have I been tooold? Have I offended her?"



he young lady, indeed, looked very angry ashe drew back from the window.

How dares that mountebank insult us so?here is your father? I shall demand redressom him. My father would have had the

retch tied up to the pump, and floggedith a cart whip, and burnt to the bonesith the cattle brand!"

he retired from the window a step or two,nd sat down, and had hardly lost sight of he offender, when her wrath subsided asuddenly as it had risen, and she graduallycovered her usual tone, and seemed torget the l itt le hunchback and his follies.

y father was out of spirits that evening. Onoming in he told us that there had been

nother case very similar to the two fatalnes which had lately occurred. The sister of young peasant on his estate, only a mile

way, was very ill, had been, as sheescribed it, attacked very nearly in theame way, and was now slowly but steadilynking.

All this," said my father, "is strictlyferable to natural causes. These poor

eople infect one another with theiruperstitions, and so repeat in imaginationhe images of terror that have infested theireighbors."

But that ver circumstance fri htens one



orribly," said Carmilla.

How so?" inquired my father.

am so afraid of fancying I see such things;think it would be as bad as reality."

We are in God's hands: nothing can happenithout his permission, and all will end wellr those who love him. He is our faithful

reator; He has made us all, and will takeare of us."

Creator! Nature!" said the young lady innswer to my gentle father. "And thissease that invades the country is natural.ature. All things proceed from Nature--don'they? All things in the heaven, in the earth,nd under the earth, act and live as Naturerdains? I think so."

The doctor said he would come here today,"aid my father, after a s ilence. "I want tonow what he thinks about it, and what hehinks we had better do."

Doctors never did me any good," saidarmilla.

Then you have been ill?" I asked.

More i ll than ever you were," she answered.

Long ago?"

Yes, a long time. I suffered from this very



ness; but I forget all but my pain andeakness, and they were not so bad as areuffered in other diseases."

You were very young then?"

dare say, let us talk no more of it. Youould not wound a friend?"

he looked languidly in my eyes, and passeder arm round my waist lovingly, and led meut of the room. My father was busy overome papers near the window.

Why does your papa like to frighten us?"aid the pretty girl with a sigh and a litt lehudder.

He doesn't, dear Carmilla, it is the veryrthest thing from his mind."

Are you afraid, dearest?"

should be very much if I fancied there wasny real danger of my being attacked ashose poor people were."

You are afraid to die?"

Yes, every one is."

But to die as lovers may--to die together,o that they may live together.

irls are caterpillars while they live in theorld, to be finally butterflies when the



ummer comes; but in the meantime therere grubs and larvae, don't you see--eachith their peculiar propensities, necessitiesnd structure. So says Monsieur Buffon, ins big book, in the next room."

ater in the day the doctor came, and wasoseted with papa for some t ime.

e was a skilful man, of sixty and upwards,e wore powder, and shaved his pale face asmooth as a pumpkin. He and papa emergedom the room together, and I heard papa

ugh, and say as they came out:

Well, I do wonder at a wise man like you.hat do you say to hippogriffs and

ragons?"

he doctor was smiling, and made answer,

haking his head--

Nevertheless life and death are mysteriousates, and we know little of the resources

f either."

nd so they walked on, and I heard no more.did not then know what the doctor hadeen broaching, but I think I guess it now.



V

Wonderful Likeness

his evening there arrived from Gratz therave, dark-faced son of the picture cleaner,ith a horse and cart laden with two largeacking cases, having many pictures in each.was a journey of ten leagues, and

henever a messenger arrived at the schlossom our little capital of Gratz, we used torowd about him in the hall, to hear theews.

his arrival created in our secluded quartersuite a sensation. The cases remained in theall, and the messenger was taken charge of y the servants till he had eaten his supper.hen with assistants, and armed withammer, ripping chisel, and turnscrew, heet us in the hall, where we had assembled

o witness the unpacking of the cases.

armilla sat looking listlessly on, while onefter the other the old pictures, nearly allortraits, which had undergone the processf renovation, were brought to light. Myother was of an old Hungarian family, and

ost of these pictures, which were about toe restored to their places, had come to us



rough her.

y father had a list in his hand, from whiche read, as the artist rummaged out theorresponding numbers. I don't know thathe pictures were very good, but they were,

ndoubtedly, very old, and some of themery curious also. They had, for the mostart, the merit of being now seen by me, Iay say, for the first time; for the smoke

nd dust of time had all but obliteratedhem.

There is a picture that I have not seen yet,"aid my father. "In one corner, at the top of , is the name, as well as I could read,

Marcia Karnstein,' and the date '1698'; and Im curious to see how it has turned out."

remembered it; it was a small picture,

bout a foot and a half high, and nearlyquare, without a frame; but it was soackened by age that I could not make itut.

he artist now produced it, with evident

ride. It was quite beautiful; it wasartling; it seemed to live. It was the effigyf Carmilla!

Carmilla, dear, here is an absolute miracle.ere you are, living, smiling, ready to speak, this picture. Isn't it beautiful, Papa? And

ee, even the little mole on her throat."



y father laughed, and said "Certainly it is aonderful likeness," but he looked away,nd to my surprise seemed but litt le strucky it, and went on talking to the pictureeaner, who was also something of anrtist, and discoursed with intelligence about

e portraits or other works, which his artad just brought into light and color, while Ias more and more lost in wonder the morelooked at the picture.

W ill you let me hang this picture in myoom, papa?" I asked.

Certainly, dear," said he, smiling, "I'm veryad you think it so like.

must be prettier even than I thought it, if is."

he young lady did not acknowledge thisretty speech, did not seem to hear it. Sheas leaning back in her seat, her fine eyesnder their long lashes gazing on me inontemplation, and she smiled in a kind of pture.

And now you can read quite plainly theame that is written in the corner.

is not Marcia; it looks as if it was done inold. The name is Mircalla, Countessarnstein, and this is a little coronet over

nd underneath A.D.

698. I am descended from the Karnsteins



hat is , mamma was."

Ah!" said the lady, languidly, "so am I, Iink, a very long descent, very ancient. Are

here any Karnsteins living now?"

None who bear the name, I believe. Themily were ruined, I believe, in some civilars, long ago, but the ruins of the castlere only about three miles away."

How interesting!" she said, languidly. "Butee what beautiful moonlight!" She glanced

hrough the hall door, which stood a littlepen. "Suppose you take a l itt le rambleund the court, and look down at the road

nd river."

t is so like the night you came to us," Iaid.

he s ighed; smiling.

he rose, and each with her arm about thether's waist, we walked out upon theavement.

n silence, slowly we walked down to therawbridge, where the beautiful landscapepened before us.

And so you were thinking of the night Iame here?" she almost whispered.

Are you glad I came?"



Delighted, dear Carmilla," I answered.

And you asked for the picture you think likee, to hang in your room," she murmuredith a sigh, as she drew her arm closerbout my waist, and let her pretty head sink

pon my shoulder. "How romantic you are,armilla," I said. "Whenever you tell me yourory, it will be made up chiefly of some one

reat romance."

he kissed me silently.

am sure, Carmilla, you have been in love;hat there is, at this moment, an affair of he heart going on."

have been in love with no one, and neverhall," she whispered, "unless it should beith you."

ow beautiful she looked in the moonlight!

hy and strange was the look with which sheuickly hid her face in my neck and hair, withumultuous sighs, that seemed almost toob, and pressed in mine a hand thatembled.

er soft cheek was glowing against mine.Darling, darling," she murmured, "I live inou; and you would die for me, I love youo."

started from her.



ut, dear child, I am quite well again. Therenothing ever wrong with me, but a litt le

eakness.

eople say I am languid; I am incapable of xertion; I can scarcely walk as far as a child

f three years old: and every now and thenhe litt le strength I have falters, and Iecome as you have just seen me. But afterl I am very easily set up again; in aoment I am perfectly myself. See how Iave recovered."

o, indeed, she had; and she and I talked areat deal, and very animated she was; andhe remainder of that evening passedithout any recurrence of what I called herfatuations. I mean her crazy talk andoks, which embarrassed, and evenightened me.

ut there occurred that night an event whichave my thoughts quite a new turn, andeemed to startle even Carmilla's languidature into momentary energy.



VI

Very Strange Agony

hen we got into the drawing room, andad sat down to our coffee and chocolate,though Carmilla did not take any, she

eemed quite herself again, and Madame,nd Mademoiselle De Lafontaine, joined us,nd made a little card party, in the course of hich papa came in for what he called his

dish of tea."

hen the game was over he sat down

eside Carmilla on the sofa, and asked her,litt le anxiously, whether she had heardom her mother since her arrival.

he answered "No."

e then asked whether she knew where a

tter would reach her at present.

cannot tell," she answered ambiguously,but I have been thinking of leaving you; youave been already too hospitable and toond to me. I have given you an infinity of ouble, and I should wish to take a carriage

omorrow, and post in pursuit of her; I knowhere I shall ultimately find her, although I



are not yet tell you."

But you must not dream of any such thing,"xclaimed my father, to my great relief. "Wean't afford to lose you so, and I won'tonsent to your leaving us, except under the

are of your mother, who was so good as toonsent to your remaining with us t ill shehould herself return. I should be quiteappy if I knew that you heard from her: buthis evening the accounts of the progress of he mysterious disease that has invaded oureighborhood, grow even more alarming; and

y beautiful guest, I do feel theesponsibility, unaided by advice from yourother, very much. But I shall do my best;

nd one thing is certain, that you must nothink of leaving us without her dist inctrection to that effect. We should suffer too

uch in parting from you to consent to itasily."

Thank you, sir, a thousand times for yourospitality," she answered, smilingashfully. "You have al l been too kind toe; I have seldom been so happy in all my

fe before, as in your beautiful chateau,nder your care, and in the society of yourear daughter."

o he gallantly, in his old-fashioned way,ssed her hand, smiling and pleased at herttle speech.

accompanied Carmilla as usual to her



om, and sat and chatted with her whilehe was preparing for bed.

Do you think," I said at length, "that youill ever confide fully in me?"

he turned round smiling, but made nonswer, only continued to smile on me.

You won't answer that?" I said. "You can'tnswer pleasantly; I ought not to havesked you."

You were quite right to ask me that, ornything. You do not know how dear you areo me, or you could not think any confidenceoo great to look for.

ut I am under vows, no nun half so awfully,nd I dare not tell my story yet, even to

ou. The time is very near when you shallnow everything. You wil l think me cruel,ery selfish, but love is always selfish; theore ardent the more selfish. How jealous I

m you cannot know. You must come withe, loving me, to death; or else hate me

nd still come with me. and hating mehrough death and after. There is no suchord as indifference in my apathetic nature."

Now, Carmilla, you are going to talk yourild nonsense again," I said hast ily.

Not I, silly little fool as I am, and full of hims and fancies; for your sake I'll talk likesa e. Were ou ever at a ball?"



No; how you do run on. What is it l ike? Howharming it must be."

almost forget, it is years ago."

laughed.

You are not so old. Your first ball can hardlye forgotten yet."

remember everything about it--with anffort. I see it all, as divers see what is

oing on above them, through a medium,ense, rippling, but transparent. Thereccurred that night what has confused thecture, and made its colours faint. I was allut assassinated in my bed, wounded here,"he touched her breast, "and never was theame since."

Were you near dying?"

Yes, very--a cruel love--strange love, thatould have taken my life. Love wil l have itsacrifices. No sacrifice without blood. Let uso to sleep now; I feel so lazy. How can Iet up just now and lock my door?"

he was lying with her tiny hands buried iner rich wavy hair, under her cheek, her litt leead upon the pillow, and her glittering eyesllowed me wherever I moved, with a kind

f shy smile that I could not decipher.

bid her good night, and crept from the



om with an uncomfortable sensation.

often wondered whether our pretty guestver said her prayers. I certainly had nevereen her upon her knees. In the morning sheever came down until long after our family

rayers were over, and at night she neverft the drawing room to attend our brief vening prayers in the hall.

it had not been that it had casually comeut in one of our careless talks that she hadeen baptised, I should have doubted her

eing a Christian. Religion was a subject onhich I had never heard her speak a word. If had known the world better, this particulareglect or antipathy would not have so muchurprised me.

he precautions of nervous people are

fectious, and persons of a l ikeemperament are pretty sure, after a time,o imitate them. I had adopted Carmilla'sabit of locking her bedroom door, havingken into my head all her whimsical alarms

bout midnight invaders and prowling

ssassins. I had also adopted her precautionf making a brief search through her room,o satisfy herself that no lurking assassin orbber was "ensconced."

hese wise measures taken, I got into myed and fell asleep. A light was burning in

y room. This was an old habit, of very earlyate, and which nothin could have tem ted



VII

escending

would be vain my attempting to tell youe horror with which, even now, I recall the

ccurrence of that night. It was no suchansitory terror as a dream leaves behind it.seemed to deepen by time, and

ommunicated itself to the room and theery furniture that had encompassed thepparition.

could not bear next day to be alone for a

oment. I should have told papa, but forwo opposite reasons. At one time I thoughte would laugh at my story, and I could notear its being treated as a jest; and atnother I thought he might fancy that I hadeen attacked by the mysterious complainthich had invaded our neighborhood. I had

yself no misgiving of the kind, and as head been rather an invalid for some time, Ias afraid of alarming him.

was comfortable enough with my good-atured companions, Madame Perrodon, andhe vivacious Mademoiselle Lafontaine. They

oth perceived that I was out of spirits andervous, and at length I told them what lay



o heavy at my heart.

ademoiselle laughed, but I fancied thatadame Perrodon looked anxious.

By-the-by," said Mademoiselle, laughing,

he long lime tree walk, behind Carmilla'sedroom window, is haunted!"

Nonsense!" exclaimed Madame, whorobably thought the theme ratheropportune, "and who tells that story, myear?"

Martin says that he came up twice, whenhe old yard gate was being repaired, beforeunrise, and twice saw the same femalegure walking down the l ime tree avenue."

So he well might, as long as there are cows

o milk in the river fields," said Madame.

daresay; but Martin chooses to beightened, and never did I see fool moreightened."

You must not say a word about it to

armilla, because she can see down thatalk from her room window," I interposed,nd she is, if possible, a greater coward

han I."

armilla came down rather later than usualhat day.

was so frightened last night," she said, so



oon as were together, "and I am sure Ihould have seen something dreadful if itad not been for that charm I bought fromhe poor little hunchback whom I called suchard names. I had a dream of somethingack coming round my bed, and I awoke in a

erfect horror, and I really thought, for someeconds, I saw a dark figure near thehimneypiece, but I felt under my pillow fory charm, and the moment my fingers

ouched it, the figure disappeared, and I feltuite certain, only that I had it by me, thatomething frightful would have made its

ppearance, and, perhaps, thrott led me, asdid those poor people we heard of.

Well, listen to me," I began, and recountedy adventure, at the recital of which she

ppeared horrified.

And had you the charm near you?" shesked, earnest ly.

No, I had dropped it into a china vase inhe drawing room, but I shall certainly take

with me tonight, as you have so much

ith in it."

t this distance of time I cannot tell you, orven understand, how I overcame my horroro effectually as to lie alone in my room thatght. I remember distinctly that I pinned

he charm to my pillow. I fell asleep almost

mmediately, and slept even more soundlyhan usual all night.



ext night I passed as well. My sleep waselightfully deep and dreamless.

ut I wakened with a sense of lassitude andelancholy, which, however, did not exceeddegree that was almost luxurious.

Well, I told you so," said Carmilla, when Iescribed my quiet sleep, "I had suchelightful sleep myself last night; I pinnedhe charm to the breast of my nightdress. Itas too far away the night before. I amuite sure it was all fancy, except thereams. I used to think that evil spiritsade dreams, but our doctor told me it is no

uch thing. Only a fever passing by, or somether malady, as they often do, he said,nocks at the door, and not being able toet in, passes on, with that alarm."

And what do you think the charm is?" said

t has been fumigated or immersed in somerug, and is an antidote against thealaria," she answered.

Then it acts only on the body?"

Certainly; you don't suppose that evilpirits are frightened by bits of ribbon, orhe perfumes of a druggist's shop? No, theseomplaints, wandering in the air, begin by

ying the nerves, and so infect the brain,ut before the can seize u on ou, the



ntidote repels them. That I am sure is whathe charm has done for us. It is nothingagical, it is simply natural.

should have been happier if I could haveuite agreed with Carmilla, but I did my

est, and the impression was a little losings force.

or some nights I slept profoundly; but stillvery morning I felt the same lassitude, andlanguor weighed upon me all day. I feltyself a changed girl. A strange melancholy

as stealing over me, a melancholy that Iould not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of eath began to open, and an idea that I wasowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow,ot unwelcome, possess ion of me. If it wasad, the tone of mind which this inducedas also sweet.

hatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in.

would not admit that I was il l, I would notonsent to tell my papa, or to have the

octor sent for.

armilla became more devoted to me thanver, and her strange paroxysms of languiddoration more frequent. She used to gloatn me with increasing ardor the more myrength and spirits waned. This always

hocked me like a momentary glare of sanity.



ithout knowing it, I was now in a prettydvanced stage of the strangest illnessnder which mortal ever suffered. There wasn unaccountable fascination in its earlierymptoms that more than reconciled me tohe incapacitating effect of that stage of the

alady. This fascination increased for ame, until it reached a certain point, whenradually a sense of the horrible mingledself with it, deepening, as you shall hear,ntil it discolored and perverted the wholeate of my life.

he first change I experienced was rathergreeable. It was very near the turning pointom which began the descent of Avernus.

ertain vague and strange sensations visitede in my sleep. The prevailing one was of

hat pleasant, peculiar cold thrill which weel in bathing, when we move against theurrent of a river. This was soonccompanied by dreams that seemedterminable, and were so vague that I couldever recollect their scenery and persons, orny one connected portion of their action.

ut they left an awful impression, and aense of exhaustion, as if I had passedhrough a long period of great mentalxertion and danger.

fter all these dreams there remained onaking a remembrance of having been in a

ace very nearly dark, and of having spokeno eo le whom I could not see; and



he doorway, and so stared into the room.

e called her by name; but there was stillo reply. We looked round the room.verything was undisturbed. It was exactly the state in which I had left it on bidding

er good night. But Carmilla was gone.



VIII

earch

t sight of the room, perfectly undisturbedxcept for our violent entrance, we began toool a l itt le, and soon recovered our sensesufficiently to dismiss the men. It had struckademoiselle that possibly Carmilla hadeen wakened by the uproar at her door, and her first panic had jumped from her bed,

nd hid herself in a press, or behind aurtain, from which she could not, of course,merge until the majordomo and his

yrmidons had withdrawn. We nowcommenced our search, and began to call

er name again.

was all to no purpose. Our perplexity andgitation increased. We examined theindows, but they were secured. I implored

f Carmilla, if she had concealed herself, toay this cruel trick no longer--to come outnd to end our anxieties. It was all useless.was by this time convinced that she wasot in the room, nor in the dressing room,he door of which was still locked on thisde. She could not have passed it. I wastterly puzzled. Had Carmilla discovered onef those secret passages which the old



thers to the spot who might at once relievey father's anxiety.

Dear Carmilla, what has become of you allhis time? We have been in agonies of nxiety about you," I exclaimed. "Where

ave you been? How did you come back?"

Last night has been a night of wonders,"he said.

For mercy's sake, explain all you can."

t was past two last night," she said, "whenwent to sleep as usual in my bed, with myoors locked, that of the dressing room, andhat opening upon the gallery. My sleep wasninterrupted, and, so far as I know,reamless; but I woke just now on the sofa the dressing room there, and I found the

oor between the rooms open, and the otheroor forced. How could all this haveappened without my being wakened? Itust have been accompanied with a greateal of noise, and I am particularly easilyakened; and how could I have been carried

ut of my bed without my sleep having beenterrupted, I whom the slightest stirartles?"

y this time, Madame, Mademoiselle, myther, and a number of the servants were in

he room. Carmilla was, of course,

verwhelmed with inquiries, congratulations,nd welcomes. She had but one story to tell,



nd seemed the least able of all the party touggest any way of accounting for what hadappened.

y father took a turn up and down the room,hinking. I saw Carmilla's eye follow him for

moment with a sly, dark glance.

hen my father had sent the servants away,ademoiselle having gone in search of attle bottle of valerian and salvolatile, andhere being no one now in the room witharmilla, except my father, Madame, and

yself, he came to her thoughtfully, tooker hand very kindly, led her to the sofa, andat down beside her.

Will you forgive me, my dear, if I risk aonjecture, and ask a question?"

Who can have a better right?" she said.Ask what you please, and I will tell youverything. But my story is s imply one of ewilderment and darkness. I knowbsolutely nothing. Put any question youease, but you know, of course, the

mitations mamma has placed me under."

Perfectly, my dear child. I need notpproach the topics on which she desires ourlence. Now, the marvel of last nightonsists in your having been removed fromour bed and your room, without being

akened, and this removal having occurredpparently while the windows were still



IX

he Doctor

s Carmilla would not hear of an attendanteeping in her room, my father arranged

hat a servant should sleep outside her door,o that she would not attempt to makenother such excursion without beingrrested at her own door.

hat night passed quietly; and next morningarly, the doctor, whom my father had sentr without tell ing me a word about it,

rrived to see me.

adame accompanied me to the library; andhere the grave little doctor, with white hairnd spectacles, whom I mentioned before,as waiting to receive me.

told him my story, and as I proceeded herew graver and graver.

e were standing, he and I, in the recess of ne of the windows, facing one another.hen my statement was over, he leanedith his shoulders against the wall, and with

s eyes fixed on me earnest ly, with anterest in which was a dash of horror.



adame, we shan't trouble you, the doctorays, at present."

ccordingly I approached, for the first time attle alarmed; for, although I felt very weak,did not feel i ll; and strength, one always

ncies, is a thing that may be picked uphen we please.

y father held out his hand to me, as I drewear, but he was looking at the doctor, ande said:

t certainly is very odd; I don't understandquite. Laura, come here, dear; now attend

o Doctor Spielsberg, and recollect yourself."

You mentioned a sensation like that of twoeedles piercing the skin, somewhere aboutour neck, on the night when you

xperienced your first horrible dream. Ishere still any soreness?"

None at all," I answered.

Can you indicate with your finger about theoint at which you think this occurred?"

Very little below my throat--here," Inswered.

wore a morning dress, which covered theace I pointed to.

Now you can satisfy yourself," said theoctor. "You won't mind your papa's lowering



ncied, perhaps luckily for my nerves, thathe arrangement was prescribed simply toecure a companion, who would prevent myking too much exercise, or eating unripeuit, or doing any of the fifty foolish things

o which young people are supposed to be

rone.

bout half an hour after my father came in--e had a letter in his hand--and said:

This letter had been delayed; it is fromeneral Spielsdorf. He might have been here

esterday, he may not come till tomorrow ore may be here today."

e put the open letter into my hand; but hed not look pleased, as he used when auest, especially one so much loved as theeneral, was coming.

n the contrary, he looked as if he wishedm at the bottom of the Red Sea. Thereas plainly something on his mind which hed not choose to divulge.

Papa, darling, will you tell me this?" said I,uddenly laying my hand on his arm, andoking, I am sure, imploringly in his face.

Perhaps," he answered, smoothing my hairaressingly over my eyes.

Does the doctor think me very ill?"

No, dear; he thinks, if right steps are taken,



ou will be quite well again, at least, on thegh road to a complete recovery, in a day or

wo," he answered, a little dryly. "I wish ourood friend, the General, had chosen anyther time; that is, I wish you had beenerfectly well to receive him."

But do tell me, papa," I insisted, "whatoes he think is the matter with me?"

Nothing; you must not plague me withuestions," he answered, with more irritationhan I ever remember him to have displayed

efore; and seeing that I looked wounded, Iuppose, he kissed me, and added, "Youhall know all about it in a day or two; that, all that I know. In the meantime you areot to trouble your head about it ."

e turned and left the room, but came back

efore I had done wondering and puzzlingver the oddity of all this; it was merely toay that he was going to Karnstein, and hadrdered the carriage to be ready at twelve,nd that I and Madame should accompanym; he was going to see the priest who

ved near those picturesque grounds, uponusiness, and as Carmilla had never seenhem, she could follow, when she cameown, with Mademoiselle, who would bringaterials for what you call a picnic, whichight be laid for us in the ruined castle.

t twelve o'clock, accordingly, I was ready,nd not lon after, m father, Madame and I



et out upon our projected drive.

assing the drawbridge we turn to the right,nd follow the road over the steep Gothicridge, westward, to reach the desertedllage and ruined castle of Karnstein.

o sylvan drive can be fancied prettier. Theround breaks into gentle hills and hollows,l clothed with beautiful wood, totallyestitute of the comparative formality whichrtificial planting and early culture andruning impart.

he irregularities of the ground often leadhe road out of its course, and cause it toind beautifully round the s ides of brokenollows and the steeper sides of the hills,mong variet ies of ground almostexhaustible.

urning one of these points, we suddenlyncountered our old friend, the General,ding towards us, attended by a mountedervant. His portmanteaus were following inhired wagon, such as we term a cart.

he General dismounted as we pulled up,nd, after the usual greetings, was easilyersuaded to accept the vacant seat in thearriage and send his horse on with hiservant to the schloss.



aw my father, at this point, glance at theeneral, with, as I thought, a markeduspicion of his sanity.

he General did not see it , luckily. He wasoking gloomily and curiously into the

ades and vistas of the woods that werepening before us.

You are going to the Ruins of Karnstein?"e said. "Yes, it is a lucky coincidence; doou know I was going to ask you to bring mehere to inspect them. I have a special

bject in exploring. There is a ruined chapel,n't there, with a great many tombs of thatxtinct family?"

So there are--highly interesting," said myther. "I hope you are thinking of claiming

he title and estates?"

y father said this gaily, but the General didot recollect the laugh, or even the smile,hich courtesy exacts for a friend's joke; on

he contrary, he looked grave and evenerce, ruminating on a matter that stirred

s anger and horror.

Something very different," he said, gruffly.mean to unearth some of those fine

eople. I hope, by God's blessing, toccomplish a pious sacrilege here, which willl ieve our earth of certain monsters, and

nable honest people to sleep in their bedsithout being assailed by murderers. I have



onceal them. He said:

We have been very old friends; I knew youould feel for me, childless as I am. She hadecome an object of very near interest toe, and repaid my care by an affection that

heered my home and made my life happy.hat is all gone. The years that remain toe on earth may not be very long; but byod's mercy I hope to accomplish a service

o mankind before I die, and to subserve theengeance of Heaven upon the fiends whoave murdered my poor child in the spring of

er hopes and beauty!"

You said, just now, that you intendedlating everything as it occurred," said myther. "Pray do; I assure you that it is notere curiosity that prompts me."

y this t ime we had reached the point athich the Drunstall road, by which theeneral had come, diverges from the roadhich we were traveling to Karnstein.

How far is it to the ruins?" inquired the

eneral, looking anxiously forward.

About half a league," answered my father.Pray let us hear the story you were so goods to promise."



s Paris itself had never witnessed. Anduch music--music, you know, is myeakness--such ravishing music! The fineststrumental band, perhaps, in the world,nd the finest singers who could be collectedom all the great operas in Europe. As you

andered through these fantasticallyuminated grounds, the moon-lighted

hateau throwing a rosy light from its longws of windows, you would suddenly hear

hese ravishing voices stealing from thelence of some grove, or rising from boatspon the lake. I felt myself, as I looked and

stened, carried back into the romance andoetry of my early youth.

When the fireworks were ended, and theall beginning, we returned to the nobleuite of rooms that were thrown open to the

ancers. A masked ball, you know, is aeautiful sight; but so brilliant a spectaclef the kind I never saw before.

t was a very aristocratic assembly. I wasyself almost the only 'nobody' present.

My dear child was looking quite beautiful.he wore no mask. Her excitement andelight added an unspeakable charm to heratures, always lovely. I remarked a youngdy, dressed magnificently, but wearing aask, who appeared to me to be observingy ward with extraordinary interest. I had

een her, earlier in the evening, in the greatall, and again, for a few minutes, walking



ear us, on the terrace under the castleindows, similarly employed. A lady, alsoasked, richly and gravely dressed, and withstately air, like a person of rank,

ccompanied her as a chaperon.

ad the young lady not worn a mask, Iould, of course, have been much moreertain upon the question whether she waseally watching my poor darling.

am now well assured that she was.

We were now in one of the salons. My poorear child had been dancing, and was restinglittle in one of the chairs near the door; Ias standing near. The two ladies I haveentioned had approached and the younger

ook the chair next my ward; while herompanion stood beside me, and for a little

me addressed herself, in a low tone, to herharge.

Availing herself of the privilege of her mask,he turned to me, and in the tone of an oldiend, and calling me by my name, opened a

onversation with me, which piqued myuriosity a good deal. She referred to manycenes where she had met me--at Court, andt distinguished houses. She alluded to littlecidents which I had long ceased to think

f, but which, I found, had only lain inbeyance in my memory, for they instantly

arted into life at her touch.



became more and more curious toscertain who she was, every moment. Shearried my attempts to discover very adroit lynd pleasantly. The knowledge she showedf many passages in my life seemed to mel but unaccountable; and she appeared to

ke a not unnatural pleasure in foiling myuriosity, and in seeing me flounder in myager perplexity, from one conjecture tonother.

n the meantime the young lady, whom herother called by the odd name of Millarca,

hen she once or twice addressed her, had,ith the same ease and grace, got intoonversation with my ward.

She introduced herself by saying that herother was a very old acquaintance of mine.he spoke of the agreeable audacity which aask rendered practicable; she talked like aiend; she admired her dress, andsinuated very prettily her admiration of hereauty. She amused her with laughingriticisms upon the people who crowded theallroom, and laughed at my poor child's fun.

he was very witty and lively when sheeased, and after a time they had grown

ery good friends, and the young strangerwered her mask, displaying a remarkablyeautiful face. I had never seen it before,either had my dear child. But though it wasew to us, the features were so engaging,

s well as lovely, that it was impossible noto feel the attraction powerfully. My poor girl



d so. I never saw anyone more taken withnother at first sight, unless, indeed, it washe stranger herself, who seemed quite toave lost her heart to her.

n the meantime, availing myself of the

cense of a masquerade, I put not a fewuestions to the elder lady.

You have puzzled me utterly,' I said,ughing. 'Is that not enough?

on't you, now, consent to stand on equal

erms, and do me the kindness to removeour mask?'

Can any request be more unreasonable?'he replied. 'Ask a lady to yield andvantage! Beside, how do you know youhould recognize me? Years make changes.'

As you see,' I said, with a bow, and, Iuppose, a rather melancholy litt le laugh.

As philosophers tell us,' she said; 'and howo you know that a s ight of my face wouldelp you?'

I should take chance for that,' I answered.t is vain trying to make yourself out an oldoman; your figure betrays you.'

Years, nevertheless, have passed since Iaw you, rather since you saw me, for that ishat I am considering. Millarca, there, is myaughter; I cannot then be young, even in



he opinion of people whom time has taughto be indulgent, and I may not like to beompared with what you remember me.

ou have no mask to remove. You can offere nothing in exchange.'

My petition is to your pity, to remove it.'

And mine to yours, to let it stay where it,' she replied.

Well, then, at least you will tell me

hether you are French or German; youpeak both languages so perfectly.'

I don't think I shall tell you that, General;ou intend a surprise, and are meditatinghe particular point of attack.'

At all events, you won't deny this,' I said,hat being honored by your permission toonverse, I ought to know how to addressou. Shall I say Madame la Comtesse?'

She laughed, and she would, no doubt,ave met me with another evasion--if,

deed, I can treat any occurrence in anterview every circumstance of which wasrearranged, as I now believe, with therofoundest cunning, as liable to beodified by accident.

As to that,' she began; but she wasterrupted, almost as she opened her lips,y a gentleman, dressed in black, who



oked particularly elegant andstinguished, with this drawback, that hisce was the most deadly pale I ever saw,

xcept in death. He was in no masquerade-- the plain evening dress of a gentleman;

nd he said, without a smile, but with a

ourtly and unusually low bow:--

W ill Madame la Comtesse permit me to sayvery few words which may interest her?'

The lady turned quickly to him, and toucheder lip in token of silence; she then said to

e, 'Keep my place for me, General; I shalleturn when I have said a few words.'

And with this injunction, playfully given,he walked a little aside with the gentleman black, and talked for some minutes,

pparently very earnestly. They then walked

way slowly together in the crowd, and I losthem for some minutes.

spent the interval in cudgeling my brainsr a conjecture as to the identity of the ladyho seemed to remember me so kindly, and

was thinking of turning about and joining the conversation between my pretty wardnd the Countess's daughter, and tryinghether, by the time she returned, I mightot have a surprise in store for her, byaving her name, title, chateau, and estatest my fingers' ends. But at this moment she

eturned, accompanied by the pale man inack, who said:



I shall return and inform Madame laomtesse when her carriage is at the door.'

He withdrew with a bow."



XII

Petition

Then we are to lose Madame la Comtesse,ut I hope only for a few hours,' I said, withlow bow.

It may be that only, or it may be a feweeks. It was very unlucky his speaking toe just now as he did. Do you now knowe?'

assured her I did not.

You shall know me,' she said, 'but not atresent. We are older and better friendshan, perhaps, you suspect. I cannot yeteclare myself. I shall in three weeks passour beautiful schloss, about which I haveeen making enquiries. I shall then look in

pon you for an hour or two, and renew aiendship which I never think of without a

housand pleasant recollections. Thisoment a piece of news has reached me likethunderbolt. I must set out now, andavel by a devious route, nearly a hundrediles, with all the dispatch I can possibly

ake. My perplexities multiply. I am onlyeterred by the compulsory reserve I practice



o beautiful that I relented. I was sorry Iad for a moment repented of myospitality, and I determined to make hermends for the unavowed churlishness of myeception.

The young lady, replacing her mask, joinedy ward in persuading me to return to therounds, where the concert was soon to benewed. We did so, and walked up and

own the terrace that lies under the cast leindows.

illarca became very intimate with us, andmused us with lively descriptions andories of most of the great people whom we

aw upon the terrace. I liked her more andore every minute. Her gossip without being-natured, was extremely diverting to me,

ho had been so long out of the great world.thought what life she would give to ourometimes lonely evenings at home.

This ball was not over until the morning sunad almost reached the horizon. It pleasedhe Grand Duke to dance ti ll then, so loyal

eople could not go away, or think of bed.

We had just got through a crowded saloon,hen my ward asked me what had becomef Millarca. I thought she had been by herde, and she fancied she was by mine. Thect was, we had lost her.

All m efforts to find her were vain. I feared



hat she had mistaken, in the confusion of aomentary separation from us, other peopler her new friends, and had, possibly,

ursued and lost them in the extensiverounds which were thrown open to us.

Now, in its full force, I recognized a newlly in my having undertaken the charge of young lady without so much as knowing

er name; and fettered as I was byromises, of the reasons for imposing whichknew nothing, I could not even point myquiries by saying that the missing young

dy was the daughter of the Countess whoad taken her departure a few hours before.

Morning broke. It was clear daylight before Iave up my search. It was not t ill near twoclock next day that we heard anything of y missing charge.

At about that t ime a servant knocked at myece's door, to say that he had been

arnestly requested by a young lady, whoppeared to be in great distress, to makeut where she could find the General Baron

pielsdorf and the young lady his daughter, whose charge she had been left by herother.

There could be no doubt, notwithstandinghe slight inaccuracy, that our young friendad turned up; and so she had. Would to

eaven we had lost her!



n the midst of my perplexities, an anxietyf a far more urgent kind presented itself.

My dear child began to lose her looks andealth, and that in a manner so mysterious,

nd even horrible, that I became thoroughlyightened.

She was at first visited by appall ingreams; then, as she fancied, by a specter,ometimes resembling Millarca, sometimes the shape of a beast, indistinctly seen,

alking round the foot of her bed, from sideo side.

astly came sensations. One, notnpleasant, but very peculiar, she said,sembled the flow of an icy stream against

er breast. At a later time, she felt

omething like a pair of large needles pierceer, a little below the throat, with a veryharp pain. A few nights after, followed aradual and convulsive sense of rangulation; then came unconsciousness."

could hear distinctly every word the kindd General was saying, because by thisme we were driving upon the short grasshat spreads on either side of the road asou approach the roofless village which hadot shown the smoke of a chimney for morehan half a century.

ou ma uess how stran el I felt as I



eard my own symptoms so exactlyescribed in those which had beenxperienced by the poor girl who, but for theatastrophe which followed, would haveeen at that moment a visitor at my father'shateau. You may suppose, also, how I felt

s I heard him detail habits and mysteriouseculiarities which were, in fact, those of oureautiful guest, Carmilla!

vista opened in the forest; we were on audden under the chimneys and gables of he ruined village, and the towers and

attlements of the dismantled castle, roundhich gigantic trees are grouped, overhungs from a s light eminence.

n a frightened dream I got down from thearriage, and in silence, for we had eachbundant matter for thinking; we soonounted the ascent, and were among the

pacious chambers, winding stairs, and darkorridors of the castle.

And this was once the palatial residence of he Karnsteins!" said the old General at

ngth, as from a great window he lookedut across the village, and saw the wide,ndulating expanse of forest. "It was a badmily, and here its bloodstained annalsere written," he continued. "It is hard that

hey should, after death, continue to plaguehe human race with their atrocious lusts.

hat is the chapel of the Karnsteins, downhere."



How came the village to be deserted?"sked the General.

t was troubled by revenants, s ir; severalere tracked to their graves, there detectedy the usual tests, and extinguished in the

sual way, by decapitation, by the stake,nd by burning; but not until many of thellagers were killed.

But after all these proceedings according tow," he continued--"so many graves

pened, and so many vampires deprived of

heir horrible animation--the village was notelieved. But a Moravian nobleman, whoappened to be traveling this way, heardow matters were, and being skilled--asany people are in his country--in such

ffairs, he offered to deliver the village froms tormentor. He did so thus: There being aright moon that night, he ascended, shortlyfter sunset, the towers of the chapel here,om whence he could dist inctly see thehurchyard beneath him; you can see it fromhat window. From this point he watchedntil he saw the vampire come out of his

rave, and place near it the l inen clothes inhich he had been folded, and then glideway towards the village to plague itshabitants.

The stranger, having seen all this, cameown from the steeple, took the linen

rappings of the vampire, and carried themp to the top of the tower, which he again



ounted. When the vampire returned froms prowlings and missed his clothes, he

ried furiously to the Moravian, whom he sawt the summit of the tower, and who, ineply, beckoned him to ascend and takehem. Whereupon the vampire, accepting his

vitation, began to climb the steeple, ando soon as he had reached the battlements,he Moravian, with a stroke of his sword,ove his skull in twain, hurling him down toe churchyard, whither, descending by theinding stairs, the stranger followed and cuts head off, and next day delivered it and

he body to the villagers, who duly impalednd burnt them.

This Moravian nobleman had authority fromhe then head of the family to remove theomb of Mircalla, Countess Karnstein, which

e did effectually, so that in a litt le while itste was quite forgotten."

Can you point out where it stood?" askedhe General, eagerly.

he forester shook his head, and smiled.

Not a soul living could tell you that now,"e said; "besides, they say her body wasemoved; but no one is sure of that either."

aving thus spoken, as t ime pressed, heropped his axe and departed, leaving us to

ear the remainder of the General's strangeory.



onjuror, and not a doctor.'

Pardon me,' said the old physician fromratz, looking displeased, 'I shall state mywn view of the case in my own way anotherme. I grieve, Monsieur le General, that by

y skill and science I can be of no use.

efore I go I shall do myself the honor touggest something to you.'

He seemed thoughtful, and sat down at able and began to write.

rofoundly disappointed, I made my bow,nd as I turned to go, the other doctorointed over his shoulder to his companionho was writing, and then, with a shrug,gnificantly touched his forehead.

This consultation, then, left me preciselyhere I was. I walked out into the grounds,l but distracted. The doctor from Gratz, in

en or fifteen minutes, overtook me. Hepologized for having followed me, but saidhat he could not conscientiously take hisave without a few words more. He told me

hat he could not be mistaken; no naturalsease exhibited the same symptoms; and

hat death was already very near. Thereemained, however, a day, or possibly two,f life. If the fatal seizure were at oncerrested, with great care and skill her

rength might possibly return. But all hungow upon the confines of the irrevocable.



was monstrous enough to have consignedm to a madhouse. He said that the patientas suffering from the visits of a vampire!he punctures which she described as havingccurred near the throat, were, he insisted,he insertion of those two long, thin, and

harp teeth which, it is well known, areeculiar to vampires; and there could be nooubt, he added, as to the well-definedresence of the small livid mark which alloncurred in describing as that induced byhe demon's lips, and every symptomescribed by the sufferer was in exact

onformity with those recorded in every casef a similar visitation.

Being myself wholly skeptical as to thexistence of any such portent as theampire, the supernatural theory of the good

octor furnished, in my opinion, but anotherstance of learning and intelligence oddlyssociated with some one hallucination. Ias so miserable, however, that, rather thany nothing, I acted upon the instructions of

he letter.

concealed myself in the dark dressingom, that opened upon the poor patient'som, in which a candle was burning, andatched there til l she was fast asleep. Iood at the door, peeping through the small

revice, my sword laid on the table besidee, as my directions prescribed, until, a

ttle after one, I saw a large black object,ery ill-defined, crawl, as it seemed to me,



ver the foot of the bed, and swiftly spreadself up to the poor girl's throat, where itwelled, in a moment, into a great,alpitating mass.

For a few moments I had stood petrified. I

ow sprang forward, with my sword in myand. The black creature suddenly contractedowards the foot of the bed, glided over it,nd, standing on the floor about a yardelow the foot of the bed, with a glare of kulking ferocity and horror fixed on me, Iaw Millarca. Speculating I know not what, I

ruck at her instantly with my sword; but Iaw her standing near the door, unscathed.orrified, I pursued, and struck again. Sheas gone; and my sword flew to shiversgainst the door.

can't describe to you all that passed onhat horrible night. The whole house was upnd stirring. The specter Millarca was gone.ut her victim was sinking fast, and beforehe morning dawned, she died."

he old General was agitated. We did not

peak to him. My father walked to somettle distance, and began reading thescriptions on the tombstones; and thus

ccupied, he strolled into the door of a s idehapel to prosecute his researches. Theeneral leaned against the wall, dried hisyes, and sighed heavily. I was relieved on

earing the voices of Carmilla and Madame,ho were at that moment approaching. The



oices died away.

n this solitude, having just listened to sorange a story, connected, as it was, with

he great and titled dead, whose monumentsere moldering among the dust and ivy

ound us, and every incident of which boreo awfully upon my own mysterious case--inhis haunted spot, darkened by the toweringliage that rose on every side, dense andgh above its noiseless walls--a horroregan to steal over me, and my heart sanks I thought that my friends were, after all,

ot about to enter and disturb this triste andminous scene.

he old General's eyes were fixed on theround, as he leaned with his hand upon theasement of a shattered monument.

nder a narrow, arched doorway, surmountedy one of those demoniacal grotesques inhich the cynical and ghastly fancy of oldothic carving delights, I saw very gladly theeautiful face and figure of Carmilla enterhe shadowy chapel.

was just about to rise and speak, andodded smiling, in answer to her peculiarlyngaging smile; when with a cry, the oldan by my side caught up the woodman'satchet, and started forward. On seeing himbrutalized change came over her features.

was an instantaneous and horribleansformation, as she made a crouching



Carmilla, yes," I answered.

Aye," he said; "that is Millarca. That is theame person who long ago was calledircalla, Countess Karnstein. Depart fromis accursed ground, my poor child, as

uickly as you can. Drive to the clergyman'souse, and stay there till we come. Begone!ay you never behold Carmilla more; youill not find her here."



XV

rdeal and Execution

s he spoke one of the strangest lookingen I ever beheld entered the chapel at the

oor through which Carmilla had made herntrance and her exit. He was tall, narrow-hested, stooping, with high shoulders, andressed in black. His face was brown andried in with deep furrows; he wore anddly-shaped hat with a broad leaf. His hair,ng and grizzled, hung on his shoulders. Heore a pair of gold spectacles, and walked

owly, with an odd shambling gait, with hisce sometimes turned up to the sky, and

ometimes bowed down towards the ground,eemed to wear a perpetual smile; his longhin arms were swinging, and his lank hands, old black gloves ever so much too wide for

hem, waving and gesticulating in utter

bstraction.

The very man!" exclaimed the General,dvancing with manifest delight. "My deararon, how happy I am to see you, I had noope of meeting you so soon." He signed toy father, who had by this time returned,

nd leading the fantast ic old gentleman,hom he called the Baron to meet him. He



troduced him formally, and they at oncentered into earnest conversation. Theranger took a roll of paper from his pocket,

nd spread it on the worn surface of a tombhat stood by. He had a pencil case in hisngers, with which he traced imaginary lines

om point to point on the paper, which fromheir often glancing from it, together, atertain points of the building, I concluded toe a plan of the chapel. He accompanied,hat I may term, his lecture, with occasional

eadings from a dirty little book, whoseellow leaves were closely written over.

hey sauntered together down the sidesle, opposite to the spot where I wasanding, conversing as they went; then

hey began measuring distances by paces,nd finally they all stood together, facing a

ece of the sidewall, which they began toxamine with great minuteness; pulling off he ivy that clung over it, and rapping theaster with the ends of their st icks,

craping here, and knocking there. At lengthhey ascertained the existence of a broadarble tablet, with letters carved in relief

pon it.

ith the assistance of the woodman, whooon returned, a monumental inscription,nd carved escutcheon, were disclosed. Theyroved to be those of the long lostonument of Mircalla, Countess Karnstein.

he old General, though not I fear given to



he praying mood, raised his hands and eyeso heaven, in mute thanksgiving for someoments.

Tomorrow," I heard him say; "theommissioner will be here, and the

nquisition will be held according to law."

hen turning to the old man with the goldpectacles, whom I have described, he shookm warmly by both hands and said:

Baron, how can I thank you? How can we all

hank you? You will have delivered thisgion from a plague that has scourged itshabitants for more than a century. Theorrible enemy, thank God, is at lastacked."

y father led the stranger aside, and the

eneral followed. I know that he had ledhem out of hearing, that he might relate myase, and I saw them glance often quickly ate, as the discussion proceeded.

y father came to me, kissed me again andgain, and leading me from the chapel, said:

t is time to return, but before we go home,e must add to our party the good priest,ho lives but a little way from this; andersuade him to accompany us to thechloss."

n this quest we were successful: and I wasad bein uns eakabl fati ued when we



human test imony, taken with every carend solemnity, judicially, beforeommissions innumerable, each consisting of any members, all chosen for integrity andtelligence, and constituting reports more

oluminous perhaps than exist upon any one

ther class of cases, is worth anything, it isfficult to deny, or even to doubt the

xistence of such a phenomenon as theampire.

or my part I have heard no theory by whicho explain what I myself have witnessed and

xperienced, other than that supplied by thencient and well-attested belief of theountry.

he next day the formal proceedings tookace in the Chapel of Karnstein.

he grave of the Countess Mircalla waspened; and the General and my fathercognized each his perfidious and beautiful

uest, in the face now disclosed to view.he features, though a hundred and fiftyears had passed since her funeral, were

nted with the warmth of life. Her eyes werepen; no cadaverous smell exhaled from theoffin. The two medical men, one officiallyresent, the other on the part of theromoter of the inquiry, attested thearvelous fact that there was a faint but

ppreciable respiration, and a corresponding

ction of the heart. The l imbs were perfectlyexible, the flesh elast ic; and the leaden



offin floated with blood, in which to a depthf seven inches, the body lay immersed.

ere then, were all the admitted signs androofs of vampirism. The body, therefore, inccordance with the ancient practice, was

ised, and a sharp stake driven through theeart of the vampire, who uttered a piercinghriek at the moment, in all respects such asight escape from a l iving person in the last

gony. Then the head was struck off, and aorrent of blood flowed from the severedeck. The body and head was next placed on

pile of wood, and reduced to ashes, whichere thrown upon the river and borne away,nd that territory has never since beenagued by the visits of a vampire.

y father has a copy of the report of themperial Commission, with the signatures of l who were present at these proceedings,ttached in verification of the statement. Itfrom this official paper that I have

ummarized my account of this last shockingcene.



XVI

onclusion

write all this you suppose with composure.ut far from it; I cannot think of it withoutgitation. Nothing but your earnest desire soepeatedly expressed, could have inducede to sit down to a task that has unstrungy nerves for months to come, andinduced a shadow of the unspeakable

orror which years after my deliveranceontinued to make my days and nightsreadful, and solitude insupportably terrific.

et me add a word or two about that quaintaron Vordenburg, to whose curious lore weere indebted for the discovery of theountess Mircalla's grave.

e had taken up his abode in Gratz, where,

ving upon a mere pittance, which was allhat remained to him of the once princelystates of his family, in Upper Styria, heevoted himself to the minute and laboriousvestigation of the marvelously

uthenticated tradition of Vampirism. He hadt his fingers' ends all the great and little

orks upon the subject.



ill exercise inexhaustible patience andratagem, for access to a particular objectay be obstructed in a hundred ways. It willever desist until it has satiated its pass ion,nd drained the very life of its covetedctim. But it will, in these cases, husband

nd protract its murderous enjoyment withhe refinement of an epicure, and heighten ity the gradual approaches of an artfulourtship. In these cases it seems to yearnr something like sympathy and consent. In

rdinary ones it goes direct to its object,verpowers with violence, and strangles and

xhausts often at a single feast.

he vampire is, apparently, subject, inertain situations, to special conditions. Inhe particular instance of which I have givenou a relation, Mircalla seemed to be limited

o a name which, if not her real one, shouldt least reproduce, without the omission orddition of a single letter, those, as we say,nagrammatically, which compose it.

armilla did this; so did Millarca.

y father related to the Baron Vordenburg,ho remained with us for two or three weeksfter the expulsion of Carmilla, the storybout the Moravian nobleman and theampire at Karnstein churchyard, and thene asked the Baron how he had discoveredhe exact position of the long-concealed

omb of the Countess Mircalla? The Baron'srotesque features puckered up into a



ysterious smile; he looked down, stillmiling on his worn spectacle case andmbled with it. Then looking up, he said:

have many journals, and other papers,ritten by that remarkable man; the most

urious among them is one treating of thesit of which you speak, to Karnstein. Theadition, of course, discolors and distorts attle. He might have been termed aoravian nobleman, for he had changed hisbode to that territory, and was, beside, aoble. But he was, in truth, a native of

pper Styria. It is enough to say that in veryarly youth he had been a passionate andvored lover of the beautiful Mircalla,ountess Karnstein. Her early death plungedm into inconsolable grief. It is the nature

f vampires to increase and multiply, but

ccording to an ascertained and ghostly law.

Assume, at starting, a territory perfectlyee from that pest. How does it begin, andow does it multiply itself? I will tell you. Aerson, more or less wicked, puts an end tomself. A suicide, under certain

rcumstances, becomes a vampire. Thatpecter visits living people in their slumbers;hey die, and almost invariably, in the grave,evelop into vampires. This happened in thease of the beautiful Mircalla, who wasaunted by one of those demons. Myncestor, Vordenburg, whose tit le I still

ear, soon discovered this, and in the coursef the studies to which he devoted himself,



arned a great deal more.

Among other things, he concluded thatuspicion of vampirism would probably fall,ooner or later, upon the dead Countess,ho in life had been his idol. He conceived a

orror, be she what she might, of heremains being profaned by the outrage of aosthumous execution. He has left a curiousaper to prove that the vampire, on itsxpulsion from its amphibious existence, isrojected into a far more horrible life; ande resolved to save his once beloved Mircalla

om this.

He adopted the stratagem of a journeyere, a pretended removal of her remains,nd a real obliteration of her monument.hen age had stolen upon him, and from

he vale of years, he looked back on thecenes he was leaving, he considered, in afferent spirit, what he had done, and aorror took possession of him. He made theacings and notes which have guided me to

he very spot, and drew up a confession of he deception that he had practiced. If he

ad intended any further action in thisatter, death prevented him; and the hand

f a remote descendant has, too late forany, directed the pursuit to the lair of theeast."

e talked a little more, and among other

hings he said was this:



One sign of the vampire is the power of theand. The slender hand of Mircalla closedke a vice of steel on the General's wristhen he raised the hatchet to strike. But itsower is not confined to its grasp; it leavesnumbness in the limb it seizes, which is

owly, if ever, recovered from."

he following Spring my father took me aour through Italy. We remained away forore than a year. It was long before the

error of recent events subsided; and to thisour the image of Carmilla returns to

emory with ambiguous alternations--ometimes the playful, languid, beautifulrl; sometimes the writhing fiend I saw ine ruined church; and often from a reverie I

ave started, fancying I heard the light stepf Carmilla at the drawing room door.

ther books by J. Sheridan LeFanu

he Cock and Anchororlogh O'Brienhe House by the Churchyardncle Silasheckmatearmillahe Wyvern Mysteryuy Deverellhost Stories and Tales of Mysteryhe Chronicles of Golden Friars

n a Glass Darklyhe Purcell Papers



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Carmilla - Joseph Le Fanu

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Transcript of Carmilla - Joseph Le Fanu