In this solitude, having just listened to so strange a story, connected,

as it was, with the great and titled dead, whose monuments were

moldering among the dust and ivy round us, and every incident of which

bore so awfully upon my own mysterious case--in this haunted spot,

darkened by the towering foliage that rose on every side, dense and high

above its noiseless walls--a horror began to steal over me, and my heart

sank as I thought that my friends were, after all, not about to enter

and disturb this triste and ominous scene.

The old General's eyes were fixed on the ground, as he leaned with his

hand upon the basement of a shattered monument.

Under a narrow, arched doorway, surmounted by one of those demoniacal

grotesques in which the cynical and ghastly fancy of old Gothic carving

delights, I saw very gladly the beautiful face and figure of Carmilla

enter the shadowy chapel.

I was just about to rise and speak, and nodded smiling, in answer to her

peculiarly engaging smile; when with a cry, the old man by my side

caught up the woodman's hatchet, and started forward. On seeing him a

brutalized change came over her features. It was an instantaneous and

horrible transformation, as she made a crouching step backwards. Before

I could utter a scream, he struck at her with all his force, but she

dived under his blow, and unscathed, caught him in her tiny grasp by the

wrist. He struggled for a moment to release his arm, but his hand

opened, the axe fell to the ground, and the girl was gone.

He staggered against the wall. His grey hair stood upon his head, and a

moisture shone over his face, as if he were at the point of death.

The frightful scene had passed in a moment. The first thing I recollect

after, is Madame standing before me, and impatiently repeating again and

again, the question, "Where is Mademoiselle Carmilla?"

I answered at length, "I don't know--I can't tell--she went there," and

I pointed to the door through which Madame had just entered; "only a

minute or two since."

"But I have been standing there, in the passage, ever since Mademoiselle

Carmilla entered; and she did not return."

She then began to call "Carmilla," through every door and passage and

from the windows, but no answer came.

"She called herself Carmilla?" asked the General, still agitated.

"Carmilla, yes," I answered.

"Aye," he said; "that is Millarca. That is the same person who long ago

was called Mircalla, Countess Karnstein. Depart from this accursed

ground, my poor child, as quickly as you can. Drive to the clergyman's

house, and stay there till we come. Begone! May you never behold

Carmilla more; you will not find her here."




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