she and her brother John lived in Robert | and with that Margaret was forced to be conStreet; that they were orphans; that John tented. was a clerk in Mr. Truebury's brewery; and that she worked at her needle at home and abroad, and kept a little shop, which, when she went out by the day, was looked after by a kind girl who lived next door. She added that her father and mother had been well brought up, but had been unfortunate in business, and very sickly. They had found a very kind friend in a lady named Mrs. Meeke, who lived in Adelaide Square; she had a large family, and kept Ellen almost constantly employed in needlework either at home or in "the Square;" and when she went there, she had her meals with Mrs. Meeke and the children, as Mr. Meeke dined at his house of

The fact was, that Ellen was afraid of committing herself before she saw her way a little more clearly; but she had made out a good deal about Margaret which made her hope and even expect that John would consider her case one worth her taking up. Ellen had spoken so frankly of herself to Margaret that Margaret had been rather confidential in return. It appeared that Margaret's father was a small yeoman, who had a cottage somewhere in Essex, and that she had not gone into service but had worked for some large furnishing house in the city; and on one occasion, owing to her own negligence, had come to be unjustly suspected of a very griev ous fault she had not committed, which had occasioned her immediate dismissal without a character. Moreover, her father had been Ellen added that she and her brother had a set against her for some reason, and would lodger, a most excellent man, a city mission-not receive her at home; so that, hopeless ary; it was untold the good he did! the and despairing, she took a poor lodging, and number of thieves he had reclaimed, of drunk-earned a trifle by job-work. When this ards he had persuaded to take the pledge, of persons he had persuaded to attend divine worship and have their children sent to school,

business.

etc., etc.

failed, she sold her clothes, and at last her
Bible;
and as the sack-making would cease
well, which she was likely to do in a day or
as soon as the woman who employed her got

two, starvation stared her in the face.
"So what am I to do ? " she added, deject-
edly.

66

Keep a good heart, and pray to God," said Ellen, and something will be sure to turn up. See if it doesn't."

but still Margaret did feel encouraged, and This was a vague sort of encouragement; went back to her lonely lodging with a lighter heart.

Margaret listened very attentively to Mr. Bolter's praises, but seemed rather relieved to hear that so formidably good a person had gone out for the day. They were now in Robert Street; Ellen unlocked the door of No. 5, and introduced her guest through the shop to the little back parlor, which Margaret thought the picture of comfort. The table was soon spread; the dainty little veal-pie When Mr. Bolter and John returned, being flanked unexpectedly with three or four which was not till after evening service, they baked potatoes, smoking hot, which the good- were tired and hungry enough. Luckily natured Betsy Brick ran in with from the Ellen and Margaret had only eaten half the next door. Betsy was very pretty, with pie, so there was plenty left for them, and the merry fire was soon lighted and the kettle soon boilblue rather a wide mouth, cherry-ing for tea. red lips, and a dimple in her cheek. She gave Margaret a surprised but not rude look, and ran out again as quickly as she had run in.

eyes,

Ellen let them appease their hunger before she troubled them with questions, for which they were duly grateful. At length, when they were completely satisfied, they drew their chairs to the fire, and as soon as she had and begged them to give her some account of cleared away the tea-things, she sat down too, the events of the day.

Oh, yes, I dare say we shall," said Ellen; Forest."

Of the low stye which, when in life, they And "Pie? oh! no-no!" still-while life shal

From Fraser's Magazine.
SCHLOSS-EISHAUSEN;

A MYSTERY.
PART I.

known heirs-to appear and prosecute their rights within a twelvemonth. A similar notice was given with respect to a lady, "of name, rank, and origin totally unknown," but THE privilege enjoyed by painters and long resident with the aforesaid M. de Versay, poets in the days of Horace, is denied them who died at the same place, intestate, on the in an age of criticism. What they may dare 25th of November, 1837. Of her effects, it is no longer what they will; but what the was added, an inventory was taken at the time, general sense of mankind can recognize. The but the judicial notice withheld, "at the choice of subjects may still be free; but the special instance" of De Versay, on his deposmanner of treating them is bound by a rigor-iting the appraised value with the proper auous law, which in practice restricts the flight thorities. For this property claimants were of invention to limits far within the occasional now invited to present themselves, within the range of experience. Those who look closely term already mentioned. Other details, of at nature or life often meet with incidents interest to those whom the information might which, in works of imagination, they would concern, may for the present be omitted; condemn as impossible: and much of what is until something has been told of a long story, singular passes unrepresented, not because it to which the finis, in dry, official prose, was is untrue, but because its truth would not be thus appended. For this "Palace" of Eisallowed. The exceptional, in short, as distin-hausen has for thirty years and more been the guished from the usual,—to which, in nature's depository of many strange things perplexing variety, it is nevertheless a necessary counter-to the curious mind, hitherto concealed by an part, is in a great measure excluded from impenetrable haze of mystery, but now, it is the artist's province; and can only be safely hoped, about to be brought into clear dayexhibited with due attestation, as matter of light. fact.

The sketch I have to present belongs to this class. Its details are authentic. The subject is recent, yet such that a novelist, had fancy in some of its vagaries suggested events and characters like these, would hardly have ventured to introduce them in any work of fiction. In a case so peculiar nothing can be set down which is not actually drawn from the life; no attempt will be made to color or otherwise embellish the circumstances. Those to whom they are new may thus, if so inclined, transport themselves without scruple into the region of the marvellous: and some, it may be, will not regret to find once more, in unexpected forms and amidst the commonplaces of modern society, something akin to the caprice and mystery of a world of fable, which has long since vanished with old times and old stories.

In the summer of 1845 there appeared in German papers, and I believe in the Dutch Handelsblad and Paris Moniteur also, a judicial notice-date June 2nd-from the local court at Hildburghausen (now belonging to Saxe-Meiningen), summoning all who might have claims on the estate of a certain foreigner called M. Vavel de Versay, late of the "Palace" of Eishausen-where he had died on the 8th of April preceding, intestate and without

Eishausen is a straggling village, on the way from Coburg to Hildburghausen, where it falls towards the valley of the Werra, overlooked by the Rhön on one hand and the heights of the Thüringer Wald on the other. Leaving the hamlet at its northern end, you see to the left, not far from the high road, a house of stately appearance, the only considerable building, indeed, in the place. The few travellers who went that way at any time between 1810 and 1845 would be told by the villagers, that yonder stood the "Palace"* (Schloss)—say, to make the description of such an edifice more apt for English ears, the Hall-of Eishausen; that it was there "his Lordship" (der gnädige Herr†) lived—a rich gentleman, and very bounteous to the poor; but who he might be, "no one knew, not even the Duke himself." This was the Vavel de Versay of the notice we have been reading.

He was first heard of in these parts in 1806. There arrived in that year at the Englischer Hof, the principal hotel in Hildburghausen, a foreign gentleman, with a lady, and one manservant. M. Vavel de Versay the stranger

*At some earlier period, perhaps, a residence of the reigning family, it being still Crown property.

Literally gracious Lord or Master; a style given to no one below the rank of baron.

It is probable enough, from what took place later, that the reigning Prince—a kindlynatured man-would not have encouraged any attempt to molest a stranger evidently of the better class, and perhaps in trouble, had such been proposed. But of this there is no evidence; at first he was admitted without scrutiny-in virtue of external appearances only; and after a time his residence became a fait accompli which no one felt called upon disturb. The truth seems to be, that in those days police vigilance-less busy in general than at present, towards well-appointed trav ellers especially-was considerably relaxed in the case of such of them as might be sup posed fugitives-above all, Royalists-of rank; in deference, of course, to the sympathies of the ruling powers. At all events, whether by an accident of the confused times (the clouds at that very moment were gathering near at hand, to burst soon afterwards on the field of Jena) or the voluntary connivance of authorities, "the Count" came and went without molestation, although no pass, certificate, or report was at hand to inform the police from whence or who he might be; and at the period in question not even an inquiry seems to have been made on the subject. It later became known that for some time previously he had been living at different places in the vicinity; but this only transpired casually from parties who had heard of or seen him here and there. The rest of his antecedents was known to himself only; or if to any one else, in part, perhaps, to his confidential servant.

called himself. He had the air and habits | the contrary, kept himself studiously out of of the higher class; dressed well, lived sump- its reach so far as possible. tuously, and paid freely; drove out in a handsome carriage of his own, but neither paid nor received visits; and otherwise seemed to court the strictest retirement. In those days, although the French Revolutionary exodus had long been over, the appearance in obscure German towns of foreigners who had reasons for concealing themselves, was still by no means unusual; and they were generally treated with indulgence, especially if émigrés of rank, as M. de Versay was supposed to be. That he was a count was generally taken for granted letters, it was said, were seen addressed in that style, which I do not find M. de Versay himself ever expressly claimed. However this might be, at Hildburghausen and afterwards the title was attached to his name as a matter of course; indeed, this, or "his Lordship," soon came to be the only description by which he was popularly known; for which reason it may well be adopted here. Hildburghausen at that period was the Residenz or capital of a little separate duchy so-called; one of the least of the small dominions which had divided the inheritance of the Ernestine House of Saxony. A territory some eleven German miles square, with about thirty thousand inhabitants; skirting the Werra on both sides in its descent from the Thüringer Wald; a strip of valley, in fact, bounded on either hand by wooded heights, stony land most of it, and therefore poor; shut up in the very heart of Germany, devoid of commerce or traffic, and altogether, from its site and insignificance, as quiet a corner, perhaps, as you would find throughout the German Empire. This circumstance must not be overlooked in reviewing the incidents to be related in the sequel.

This man was evidently trusted, as well as useful. Probably he was what we should call principal in-door servant (Kammerdiener, groom of chambers)—for brevity's sake say To modern notions of the inquisitiveness of valet, although not exactly the thing. But he German police, it is strange to hear of the Friedrich: who succeeded to the Duchy, as a new comer arriving and remaining at Hild-minor, in 1780. His predecessor was that unlucky burghausen without the least trouble from that quarter. It is ascertained that he showed no passport, produced no letters or other documents of any kind "to authenticate himself." Nor were such formalities superseded, as some fancied, expressly at the instance of either duke or duchess. If he had letters from high quarters recommending him to their protection," it is certain that he never used them, nor applied for favor or notice, directly or indirectly, from the court; but, on

Ernst Friedrich-married to the only (natural) daughter of Prince Eugène-who commanded the contingent of the Empire during the Seven Years' War; and in that capacity shared, with M. de Pompadour's Soubise, the notable defeat at Rossbach in 1757; the most sudden and complete of all Frederic the Great's victories, and perhaps without a parallel, among great battles, since Agincourt, for the utter rout inflicted on a confident enemy by a force inferior in numbers, with little or no loss of its own. It was under this beaten Duke Ernst

that the State reached the climax of insolvency; so that the Emperor had to interfere, and put its revenues to nurse in the hands of a sequestrator:a circumstance not altogether foreign to the present narrative, as will be seen hereafter.

was ready to act as groom and coachman | admitted to speak with the Count was the when needful; indeed, "to make himself gen-"man of business," Counsellor A-, who erally useful." An imposing figure withal;

66

a grave, decorous, laconic man," already in years; "his hair as white as snow," but still hearty and vigorous, with broad shoulders and plump, ruddy face. Above all, discreet in his conversation: he never spoke of his master by name, but always as "his Lordship; " and in other respects demeaned himself as a cautious, important person, decidedly above his station, and not unconscious of it. This was the only servant who had access to the Count's apartments. A cook and errandwoman were engaged; but these did not live in the house, nor were allowed the range of it. The Count would have no strangers, in what capacity soever, admitted to his private apartments, still less to those reserved for his lady.

was merely employed in cashing remittances sent by way of Frankfort,—to a large amount, it was observed by the registrars at the Postoffice, who had advice of the same. To every one else the Count's lodgings were inaccessible; the curtains always drawn, and the barricade at the stair-head never left open. It was said that firearms were kept to punish intruders. Once, indeed, a workman's apprentice, who had by some accident found his way into the premises, was suddenly chased out of them by "his Lordship," pistol in hand, as the lad in his consternation averred. common idle observation of bystanders, even, was offensive to the Count. When he drove out with his lady, the carriage was brought into the courtyard, the gates of which must be closed before they would get in. Nay, when the landlady's children once placed themselves at a window from which the de

The

desiring that such liberties might not be repeated. On the arrival of letters, of which he received and wrote many, the widow was ordered to take them in herself, and after putting them in a basket hung for this purpose on the staircase, to inform the Count by ringing a bell; whereupon he would himself come down for them. The house, it has been said, must be quiet, too, as well as private; doors were not to be violently shut; calling out, even laughing aloud, was prohibited. When the landlady's sons took to playing with foils in their own room on the ground-floor-two below the Count's-he threatened to give notice to quit, "for such disturbance could not be endured." All was silent in his own quarters from morning to night; except when in the general stillness his voice might be heard, reading aloud from books or newspapers, of which latter he took many-all, it was observed, of "legitimist tendencies."

The hotel he soon quitted, for more quiet rooms, hired in the best private house in the town-known now as the "Government build-parture could be seen, he instantly complained, ings"-which, however, he did not long occupy. An alarm of fire in another part of the building having caused some disturbance, he decamped at once, and took the second floor of a villa standing by itself in the suburb. The owner, an old widow lady, was handsomely paid for these lodgings, and enjoined in return to keep them absolutely quiet; to allow of no intruders; and to apprise her tenant of any offer she might have for the purchase of her house. On taking up these quarters, arrangements for a seclusion more complete than heretofore were made without loss of time. A door was placed on the staircase, and the landing enclosed with an effectual screen of boards, so as to insulate the rooms inhabited by the Count from the rest of the house, which had other lodgers. The Count conversed with no one but the landlady; and when she was summoned to his room the door was locked behind her. was understood that she must not present herself uncalled. In such interviews as she had with him, she remarked that the Count, without putting any direct questions, soon contrived to elicit from her, with considerable address, all that she could tell him of the persons of any note in the town; and that he was moreover very inquisitive as to the strangers resident there, or passing through it only. No social purpose, it was plain, dictated such inquiries. The only other person

It

No wonder that people began to think such a mode of life strange; and especially to grow curious about the lady, who kept out of view even more than the Count himself; as she was never to be seen in the room to which the landlady or man of business was admitted; never went out alone, and when abroad was always closely veiled. At first she used to walk out with the Count in this fashion; on which occasions it was remarked that her slim figure, light dress, and lively gestures were those of a