Transcriber's Note:
1. Page Scan Source: http://books.google.com/books?id=lPUqAAAAMAAJ&dq
Copyright, 1886, by J. B Lippincott Company
Easter had come; the season of light and refreshment for universalnature! Winter, as he departed, had shrouded himself in a veil ofgloomy mist, and spring followed close after fleeing abysmal clouds.She had sent forth the blasts, her messengers, to arouse the earth fromits slumber; they roared above meadow and plain, waved their wingsaround the mighty summits of the mountain ranges, and stirred the seato its depths. There was a savage conflict and turmoil in the air,whence issued, nevertheless, a note as of victory. The blasts werethose of spring, and were instinct with life,--they heralded aresurrection.
The mountains were still half buried in snow, and the ancientstronghold that looked down from their heights upon the valley toweredabove snow-laden pines. It was one of those gray, rock-crowning castlesthat were formerly the terror of the surrounding country, and are nowfor the most part deserted and forgotten, with naught but ruins to tellof ancient splendour. This, however, was not the case in this instance:the Counts von Steinrück carefully preserved the cradle of their racefrom decay, although otherwise they cared very little for the old pile,secluded as it was from the world in the depths of the mountains. Inthe hunting season only, when there was usually an arrival of guests,life and bustle awoke the echoes within its ancient walls.
This year was an exceptional one, however. Guests, it is true, wereassembled here in the early spring, but upon a very solemn occasion.The castle's lord was to be borne to the grave, and with him theyounger branch of the family was extinct in the male succession, for heleft behind him only his widow and a little daughter. Count Steinrückhad died at one of his other estates, his usual dwelling-place, andthere the grand obsequies had been held, before the corpse had beenbrought hither to be interred in the family vault very quietly and inpresence of none save the nearest of kin.
It was one of those stormy days in March when the entire valley isfilled with masses of gray clouds. The dim afternoon light penetratedto the apartment which the dead Count had been wont to occupy duringhis short autumnal visits to the castle. It was a long, rather lowroom, with a single large bow-window, and its arrangement dated fromthe time of the castle's magnificence. The dark wainscoting, the hugeoaken doors, and the gigantic chimney-piece supporting the Steinrückescutcheon, and sustained by pillars, had remained unchanged forcenturies, while the heavy antique furniture, and the old familyportraits on the walls, alike belonged to a long-vanished period oftime. The fire smouldering on the hearth could scarcely give an air ofcomfort to the gloomy room, which, nevertheless, represented a bit of