great and humane service thou hast rendered me. Thou hast thus released me from long captivity:—three hundred years bondage within these walls! Here, when my spirit departed, I have been condemned to remain, until some mortal should be found to retaliate upon me, and inflict what I had inflicted upon so many others during my lifetime.
“In times of yore, there once lived a sad infidel within these walls, who alike mocked both priest and layman. Count Hartman was no one’s friend: he observed neither divine nor human laws; violating even the sacred ties of hospitality. No stranger ever arrived here, no mendicant solicited alms, but he was sure to be seized and tormented. I was his barber, said every thing to flatter his foibles, and led the sort of life I chose. Often the pious pilgrim was invited, as he passed the gates, into the castle: a bath was prepared, and, when he expected to refresh himself, I seized him by my master’s orders, shaved him quite bald, and then turned him from the castle with bitter gibes and mockery. The Count used to look out, and enjoy the sport from the castle window, more particularly when a crowd of mischievous boys got round and ridiculed and insulted the poor pilgrim; running and crying out after him, like the malicious little urchins in Scripture:—‘Old baldhead, baldhead!’
“Well, Sir, once a holy pilgrim, just returned
