found a strange key in the door, but it was bolted, a measure Franz adopted on the ghost’s departure. He knocked with such violence, that Franz leaped up at the noise, thinking, at first, that the spectre was coming on another visit. But hearing it was mine host’s voice entreating him to give some sign, Franz rose and opened the door.
“Mercy!” cried the landlord, lifting up his hands with feigned surprise and terror, “then old Red Cloak has been here,” (for the spectre went by that name,) “and the tradition is really true. How did he look? what said he? and more than all, what did he do?”
Frank, aware of mine host’s roguery, replied, “How should he look? as a man in a red cloak does; what he did is evident to any one; and I shall always take care to remember his words. ‘Kind stranger,’ he said, ‘trust not the landlord who dwells opposite, he knew too well what would happen to you. But leave him to me, I will reward him. I am going to leave the castle, and will take up my quarters at his inn—I will pinch and plague him to the end of his life; unless, indeed, he consent to receive you in his house, and treat you handsomely, until your hair and beard be again full grown.’”
Our poor host trembled sadly at hearing this threat; he crossed himself, and protested that he would be glad to give Franz the run of his house as long as he pleased. He forthwith conducted his guest to the inn, and waited upon him, with the utmost obsequiousness, himself.
Our hero obtained great reputation as an exorcist, for the spectre was no longer to be heard at the castle. He often went to sleep there, and a young fellow, who had courage to accompany him, returned without a shaven head. The owner of the castle, hearing that the spectre had disappeared, sent orders, with great alacrity, to have the stranger most hospitably treated, who had delivered his property from such a disagreeable house-steward.
By the approach of autumn, Franz’s brown locks began to cover his temples again; and he grew anxious to proceed home. His thoughts were busied with conjectures about the friend whom he was to meet upon the bridge—the author of his future fortunes. Being prepared for his departure, the landlord presented him with a fine horse, and a well-filled purse, sent by the owner of the castle as some token of his gratitude for the service he had received. Thus Franz was enabled to re-enter his native city on horseback, quite in as good circumstances as those in which he had left it the year before. He sought out his old quarters in the narrow street, where he continued to live very retired, and contented himself with making inquiries after his beloved Mela, who, he learnt, was still single, and enjoying very good health. At present this was sufficient for him; as he would not presume to
