When they had reached the portal, whose deep archway
was dimly lighted by a cresset, the stranger paused, and
addressed the baron in a hollow tone of voice, which the vaulted
roof rendered still more sepulchral.
"Now that we are a lone," said he, "I will impart to you the
reason of my going. I have a solemn, an indispensable
engagement----"
"Why," said the baron, "cannot you send some one in your place?"
"It admits of no substitute--I must attend it in person; I must
away to Wurtzburg cathedral----"
"Ay," said the baron, plucking up spirit, "but not until
to-morrow--to-morrow you shall take your bride there."
"No! no!" replied the stranger, with tenfold solemnity, "my
engagement is with no bride--the worms! the worms expect me! I am
a dead man--I have been slain by robbers--my body lies at
Wurtzburg--at midnight I am to be buried--the grave is waiting
for me--I must keep my appointment!"
He sprang on his black charger, dashed over the drawbridge, and
the clattering of his horse's hoofs was lost in the whistling of
the night blast.
The baron returned to the hall in the utmost consternation, and
related what had passed. Two ladies fainted outright, others
sickened at the idea of having banqueted with a spectre.
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