sharply out and, owing to his thin protruding chin and pointed gray beard curving forward, formed an oddly sickle-like outline. He must have possessed also remarkable vitality, for he did not seem to grow older in any perceptible measure through all the long years I served him; at most the peculiar sickle moon-like shape of his features seemed to grow sharper and thinner in the course of time.
In the village curious gossiping went round about him. The peasants said he did not get wet in the rain, and so on, and that whenever he passed their cottages in the long sleeping hours of the night, all the clocks would stop.
I never troubled about such idle talk. I also believe it is not a very wonderful thing, if similarly at times all the metal objects in the castle—knives, scissors, and the like—became magnetic for some days, so as to attract steel pens, nails and similar objects. At least so his lordship readily explained these matters to me, when once I ventured to ask him about them. The place, said he, was built on volcanic soil; besides such incidents were connected with the full moon. Altogether the Count had an extraordinarily high opinion of the moon; so I conclude from the following occurrences.
I must preface by saying that every summer, exactly on the 21st of July, but always only for twenty-four hours, we received the visit of an uncommonly strange guest—the same Dr. Haselmayer of whom I shall have to say much more later on.
When his lordship spoke of him, he always called him 'the red Tanjur.' Why, I have never been able to understand, for the honourable doctor was not only not red-haired at all, but had not a single hair on his
