that near the bed by my side stood a ghastly, pale apparition, wrapt in a shroud, which stretched its cold hand towards me!—The impulse of my first terror made me cry aloud and start back; when, at that moment, I heard something like the report of a violent blow. The apparition vanished, and I saw nothing around me but the usual gloomy darkness. I drew the counterpane over my head, and shivered with horror as I heard the turret clock strike; I counted it—it was the dismal hour of midnight.
“After a little time, however, I regained my courage, and I instantly jumped out of bed in order to convince myself that I had not been deceived by a dream. I lighted two candles, and again narrowly examined the apartment; every thing was as I had left it—not a single bolt withdrawn, neither at the doors nor windows. I was already inclined to ascribe the apparition, plain as it appeared, to a dream, or at least to the excitement of my own imagination, which had been heated by the game-keeper’s stories; when, in order to leave nothing undone, I held the candle to look into my bed—to my utter confusion, there was a beautiful long lock of dark hair lying upon my pillow—this certainly could not have got there in a dream, nor through a delusion of my mind. I took it up, resolving to preserve it carefully, and was just going to write down the whole occurrence of the night, when a distant noise attracted my attention.
“I soon distinguished an alarming confusion, and an opening and shutting of doors; at length it approached my room, and a hasty and loud knocking was made at my door. “Who is there,” I demanded. “Rise directly, Mr. Barmann,” was the answer; “the young lady is dying.” I threw on my clothes as quickly as possible, and hastened to the sick chamber—it was too late—the young girl lay dead before me. Shortly before midnight, they said, she awoke from a deep slumber, and after a few quick gasps instantly expired. Her parents were inconsolable—they themselves now required my professional assistance, particularly the mother, who would absolutely not leave the body, so that they were obliged to employ force to separate her from it. At length she listened to their entreaties, but I was obliged to allow her to cut off a lock of hair of her deceased daughter, as a relic of this beloved child. I was present, and imagine my horror when I observed in the long dark curls, which fell from the head of the corps, the very semblance of my midnight present. The following day I became dangerously ill; and, singular as it may appear, of the very same fever of which my patient had died! Now, Frederick, what have you to say to this matter of fact relation, the truth of which I can attest with my most solemn oath?”
