5 May. The Castle.--The gray of the morning has passed, and the
sun is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with
trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and
little are mixed.
I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes.
There are many odd things to put down, and, lest who reads them may
fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down my
dinner exactly.
I dined on what they called "robber steak"--bits of bacon, onion,
and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks, and roasted
over the fire, in simple style of the London cat's meat!
The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not disagreeable.
I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.
When I got on the coach, the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw him talking to the landlady.
They were evidently talking of me, for every now and then they
looked at me, and some of the people who were sitting on the bench
outside the door--came and listened, and then looked at me, most of
them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer
words, for there were many nationalities in the crowd, so I quietly got
my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them out.
I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them were
"Ordog"--Satan, "Pokol"--hell, "stregoica"--witch, "vrolok" and
"vlkoslak"--both mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other
Servian for something that is either werewolf or vampire. (Mem., I must ask the Count about these superstitions.)
When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this
time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross and
pointed two fingers towards me.
With some difficulty, I got a fellow passenger to tell me what they
meant. He would not answer at first, but on learning that I was
English, he explained that it was a charm or guard against the evil
eye.
This was not very pleasant for me, just starting for an unknown
place to meet an unknown man. But everyone seemed so kind-hearted, and
so sorrowful, and so sympathetic that I could not but be touched.
I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of the inn yard
and its crowd of picturesque figures, all crossing themselves, as they
stood round the wide archway, with its background of rich foliage of
oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the
yard.
Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers covered the whole front of
the boxseat,--"gotza" they call them--cracked his big whip over his
four small horses, which ran abreast, and we set off on our journey.
I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of
the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or
rather languages, which my fellow passengers were speaking, I might not
have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green
sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep
hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable
end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit
blossom--apple, plum, pear, cherry. And as we drove by I could see the
green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out
amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran
the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut
out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down
the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we
seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand
then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing
no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in
summertime excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after
the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run
of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are
not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair
them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring in
foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at
loading point.
Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty
slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves.
Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full
upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful
range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and
brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of
jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the
distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed
mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink,
we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of my
companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and
opened up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as
we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us.
"Look! Isten szek!"--"God's seat!"--and he crossed himself reverently.
As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower
behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This was
emphasized by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the
sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and
there we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I
noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many
crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here
and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did
not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender
of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There
were many things new to me. For instance, hay-ricks in the trees, and
here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white
stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves.
Now and again we passed a leiter-wagon--the ordinary peasants's
cart--with its long, snakelike vertebra, calculated to suit the
inequalities of the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group
of homecoming peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks
with their coloured sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their
long staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very
cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness
the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys
which ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through
the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background
of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine
woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great
masses of greyness which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced a
peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts and
grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling sunset
threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the
Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes the
hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses could
only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at
home, but the driver would not hear of it. "No, no," he said. "You must
not walk here. The dogs are too fierce." And then he added, with what
he evidently meant for grim pleasantry--for he looked round to catch
the approving smile of the rest--"And you may have enough of such
matters before you go to sleep." The only stop he would make was a
moment's pause to light his lamps.
When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the
passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as
though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully
with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on
to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of
patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the
hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater. The crazy coach
rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a
stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared
to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each
side and to frown down upon us. We were entering on the Borgo Pass. One
by one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed
upon me with an earnestness which would take no denial. These were
certainly of an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good
faith, with a kindly word, and a blessing, and that same strange
mixture of fear-meaning movements which I had seen outside the hotel at
Bistritz-- the sign of the cross and the guard against the evil eye.
Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned forward, and on each side the
passengers, craning over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the
darkness. It was evident that something very exciting was either
happening or expected, but though I asked each passenger, no one would
give me the slightest explanation. This state of excitement kept on for
some little time. And at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on
the eastern side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the
air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the
mountain range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got
into the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the
conveyance which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected
to see the glare of lamps through the blackness, but all was dark. The
only light was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which the steam
from our hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could see now the
sandy road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a
vehicle. The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed
to mock my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best
do, when the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something
which I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a
tone, I thought it was "An hour less than the time." Then turning to
me, he spoke in German worse than my own.
"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected after all. He
will now come on to Bukovina, and return tomorrow or the next day,
better the next day." Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh
and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up.
Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal
crossing of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove up behind
us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach . I could see from the
flash of our lamps as the rays fell on them, that the horses were
coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a
long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face
from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes,
which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us.
He said to the driver, "You are early tonight, my friend."
The man stammered in reply, "The English Herr was in a hurry."
To which the stranger replied, "That is why, I suppose, you wished
him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend. I know too
much, and my horses are swift."
As he spoke he smiled,and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking
mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory.
One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's
"Lenore".
"Denn die Todten reiten Schnell."
("For the dead travel fast.")
The
strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a
gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time
putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's
luggage," said the driver, and with exceeding alacrity my bags were
handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of
the coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me
with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel. His strength must
have been prodigious.
Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we swept
into the darkness of the pass. As I looked back I saw the steam from
the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,and projected against
it the figures of my late companions crossing themselves. Then the
driver cracked his whip and called to his horses, and off they swept on
their way to Bukovina. As they sank into the darkness I felt a strange
chill, and a lonely feeling come over me. But a cloak was thrown over
my shoulders, and a rug across my knees, and the driver said in
excellent German--
"The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take
all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum brandy of the
country) underneath the seat, if you should require it."
I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know it was there all
the same. I felt a little strangely, and not a little frightened. I
think had there been any alternative I should have taken it, instead of
prosecuting that unknown night journey. The carriage went at a hard
pace straight along, then we made a complete turn and went along
another straight road. It seemed to me that we were simply going over
and over the same ground again, and so I took note of some salient
point, and found that this was so. I would have liked to have asked the
driver what this all meant, but I really feared to do so, for I thought
that, placed as I was, any protest would have had no effect in case
there had been an intention to delay.
By-and-by, however, as I was curious to know how time was passing, I
struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch. It was within a
few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose
the general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent
experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.
Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road,
a long, agonized wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by
another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind
which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which
seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination
could grasp it through the gloom of the night.
At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear, but the
driver spoke to them soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered
and sweated as though after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off
in the distance, from the mountains on each side of us began a louder
and a sharper howling, that of wolves, which affected both the horses
and myself in the same way. For I was minded to jump from the caleche
and run, whilst they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver
had to use all his great strength to keep them from bolting. In a few
minutes, however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, and the
horses so far became quiet that the driver was able to descend and to
stand before them.
He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their ears,
as I have heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary effect,
for under his caresses they became quite manageable again, though they
still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking his reins,
started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the far side or
the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which ran sharply to
the right.
Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over
the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel. And again great
frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in
shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled
through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as we
swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery snow
began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered with a
white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs,
though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the
wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on
us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my
fear. The driver, however, was not in the least disturbed. He kept
turning his head to left and right, but I could not see anything
through the darkness.
Suddenly, away on our left I saw a fain flickering blue flame. The
driver saw it at the same moment. He at once checked the horses, and,
jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know
what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer. But
while I wondered, the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a
word took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have
fallen asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be
repeated endlessly, and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful
nightmare. Once the flame appeared so near the road, that even in the
darkness around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly
to where the blue flame arose, it must have been very faint, for it did
not seem to illumine the place around it at all, and gathering a few
stones, formed them into some device.
Once there appeared a strange optical effect. When he stood between
me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly
flicker all the same. This startled me, but as the effect was only
momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me straining through the
darkness. Then for a time there were no blue flames, and we sped
onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the wolves around us, as
though they were following in a moving circle.
At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than
he had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble
worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see
any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether.
But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared
behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light
I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red
tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred
times more terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when
they howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is
only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he
can understand their true import.
All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had
some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and
looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see.
But the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side, and they
had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for
it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through
the ring and to aid his approach, I shouted and beat the side of the
caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from the side, so as
to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know
not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and
looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept
his long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the
wolves fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed
across the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness.
When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and
the wolves disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a
dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time
seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete
darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon.
We kept on ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but
in the main always ascending. Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact
that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the
courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came
no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line
against the sky.
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