Mystery of the Haunted Castle ebook

Contents

Mystery of the Haunted Castle

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

I

Along the portrait gallery situated on the ground floor of a magnificent stately edifice of an ancient castle bordering to the north on thick infinite primeval forest, the eastern wing overlooking vast – surging at present through fierce thunderstorm raging over the district – welter of roaring sea -waves shooting high up in the air, estate lying away from other mansions – sauntered a strange figure. Bushy ringlets of his silver-grey wig flowed down on his shoulders, dark green doublet was buttoned up to his neck. Black leather shoes and white stockings completed his attire. Although the chamber’s floor was tiled with resonant oriental sheeny mosaic generally reverberating even the faintest sound the man moved about the hall quite noiselessly, not a rustle was heard as – in the depth of night – he strolled along the gallery scrutinising portraits of the ancestry – lack of any illumination whatever – darkness only occasionally dissipated by streaks of lightning penetrating through the grated windows – did not seem to inconvenience him.

One of the portraits in particular riveted the visitor’s gaze. For a long while he stood quite still in front of a painting mounted in a richly gilded frame staring intently at the image of a young knight with a fine head of fair wavy hair and glowing black eyes, then turned away and approached the fireplace the mantelshelf of which exhibited a long range of miniature statuettes and sculptures representing medieval knights and warriors. One of the figurines must have aroused his repugnance as he swiftly reached for it and, – his eyes flashing fire – knocked it over wresting the sword out of the cavalier’s hand almost smashing it to shivers against the marble plate of the mantelshelf. He took a step back narrowly scanning the statuettes, a look of rancour written in his face. Then he whipped round and – setting ajar the heavy oak door – hastened out of the gallery, crossed the castle’s rampant shrubby garden still glinting with dew-drops after the recent storm and made his way towards the forest looming in the distance. As he was crossing the gate his haughty figure all at once seemed to melt away and vanish from sight as if the earth had split open and engulfed him.

Far off in the horizon a glaring blaze of a rainbow flooded the overcast sky.

The day was breaking.

X X X X X X

A young maid aged about 19 with brown eyes and dark hair pinned up in a chignon tiptoed into the dim bedroom and halted for an instant gazing at the girl lying in a huge fringed four-poster, still fast asleep although the other household members had already been up since early morning.

Hesitantly the maid approached the window and drew aside heavy curtains letting sunshine into the room. The sleeping girl blinked and stretched her arms lazily.

— Oh, dear! Anna! What made you wake me up so early? Is anything wrong?

— It’s ten o’clock, Miss.

— Really? Oh, no, it can’t be! – Ellen sat up in the bed and looked at her watch. – Goodness, it’s stopped – she murmured. – the battery must be dead. I didn’t realize it was that late.

— I can hear the countess coming. – said the maid. – Shall I serve breakfast in here, Miss?

— No, thank you, Anna. I’ll go downstairs to the dining-room.

— As you wish, Miss.

Countess Loretti knocked on the door then opened it wide stepping aside to make way for the maid who was just leaving the young lady’s chamber.

— Ellen?

— Come in, mother.

The countess was a tall black-haired, statuesque woman with a very sweet countenance and large dark eyes. She cast her daughter a concerned glance.

— I thought you would be ready by now. Don’t forget lord Danvall has announced his arrival for midday. He must be received with due decorum.

— Quite right, Mum. – smiled Ellen. – but you needn’t remind me of that. After all it was I who invited him, or rather – to tell the truth – it was Robert himself who insisted on paying us a visit. He was very anxious to be introduced to my family and relatives.

— Then make haste and prepare yourself. You must look your best today.

Robert appeared to be a charming refined man when at last he turned up at the castle in the early afternoon. Apart from extremely pleasing appearance he was also distinguishable by urbane manners and courtly demeanour. While watching her daughter’s fiancé during an animated conversation the company embarked on in the cosy living-room Robert Danvall had been ushered into Esther Loretti was very favourably impressed by the guest’s wit, bearing and superior intellect.

To all the visitors entertained at the reception it was self-evident that the man was deeply enamoured of his fiancée. Although it was Robert’s first visit to the Loretti estate the gentleman immediately won hearts of the entire household. The couple had made each other’s acquaintance in London where Ellen worked as an interior designer. Robert was a descendant of a noble Italian stock resident in England for several centuries. According to their mutual friends they were cast in the same mould. Despite her modern upbringing Ellen decided to uphold the tradition observed by her family throughout several generations and marry the man of her choice within the walls of the ancient castle where she was born. Their wedding ceremony was to be celebrated next month.

— And what about Angie, mother? – inquired Ellen. – where is she? Won’t she join us? I hope she hasn’t forgotten that this is quite an exceptional day for me. She should keep us company.

— Sorry dear. – the countess looked confused. – Angie pleaded ill –health. She’s been tormented by nightmares for some time past, had a bad night, has suffered from splitting headache since last evening despite two analgesics I administered her.

— Poor thing. I hope her migraine will soon cease and she’ll be able to attend my engagement party tonight. After all a formal betrothal is not a matter of everyday occurrence. This is a very special event for me. –

— True enough. Well, perhaps Angie’s condition will improve before long – sighed the countess..

That afternoon, directly after the banquet, when family members and relatives – save for the ailing girl – together with the staff – had assembled in the living-room the countess rose from the armchair she was sitting in to make a short speech.

She motioned to her maid Anna waiting in readiness near a tall crystal vase gingerly holding an oval crimson etui – to approach her.

— My dear children – the lady addressed Ellen and Robert. – on the day of your engagement I am in duty bound to convey to you an extremely important piece of information. For almost four centuries our family has been observing certain traditions and – although nowadays most old customs sink into oblivion – despite the passage of time my connections have kept alive one in particular. The rite all the relatives have always set high store by… Anna – she spoke to the girl – would you pass me the casket, please.

The maid stepped forward and handed the jewel-box to her mistress. Countess Loretti opened the combination lock fitted into the top left corner of the case – produced from within a gorgeous diamond necklace and fastened it on her daughter’s neck. Ellen gently fingered the glittering gems.

— What a magnificent rivière – said Robert admiringly. – a true masterpiece.

— As I have already mentioned this jewel has been in the family’s possession for several centuries. In conformity with the adopted age-long custom mother transfers it to her daughter on the bride’s wedding day. The very first time the fiancée wears it however is during her engagement ceremony. Up to the present this tradition used to bring bride luck, for as long as the necklace remains in the stock’s management.

— And in case it gets lost or stolen? Accidents will happen, you never know. – asked Ellen.

— Under no circumstances you are allowed to let it be stolen or lost. – stated the countess – this is our most valued heirloom.

The blaze of the shimmering precious stones adorning the stylish rivière, greatly added to Ellen’s charm. It occurred to Robert that irrespective of photographs which were to be taken at the wedding reception it would be advisable to commission one of the renowned portraitists he had lately been recommended to come to the castle and eternalize on the portrait full loveliness and grace emanating from his prospective wife as she sat there in an antique armchair in the prime flush of beauty, with diamond gems sparkling around her slender neck. Meanwhile-baroness Emma Loretti, mother-in-law of countess Esther for quite a while had been watching Robert Danvall. Almost the moment she had entered the living-room, immediately after wishing her granddaughter luck in her forthcoming marriage, she fixed her eyes on the man’s face gazing steadfastly at him in silence ignoring the other participants of the feast.

— Pardon me, your lordship – she at length unceremoniously interrupted the heated conversation carried on by a group of guests seated on the sofa opposite the armchair she had settled herself in. – there is one thing I’m curious to know. If I remember rightly you’re the prize winner who won last month’s equestrian competition, aren’t you?

— Yes, Madam – confirmed Robert somewhat astonished at the unexpected reference to his glorious victory. – It’s awfully kind of you to remember such particulars.

The baroness brightened up.

— Everything that is somehow or other connected with horses is of the utmost importance to me. Palfreys are quite exceptional creatures. They can understand riders perfectly well, – don’t you get such an impression when you mount one?

The grey-haired lady looked rather cheerless in her black lace dress. According to what Ellen had told him in London one evening a few days prior to her departure for the castle her grandmother had been in deep mourning for about twenty years ever since the day her husband met his tragic death and henceforth had never taken her widow’s weeds off. Over the years she had become eccentric and freakish, had acquired singular whimsical habits, – then- steeds she took pleasure in grooming by herself – rejecting any assistance whatsoever on the part of stable boys – notwithstanding demurs her relatives made on that score, proved in a way instrumental in blotting out of her memory dismal reminiscences regarding woeful events of the past, afforded a moment of forgetfulness. Although occasionally the lady went for a drive in one of the numerous cars parked in the garage she definitely preferred her favourite animals to all kind of vehicles.

— My husband just adored horses – continued baroness Emma growing morose – and I, for my part, have always unreservedly shared his liking for them. – she broke off for a moment, contemplating Robert keenly, then asked with curiosity – do you practice horsemanship regularly or only once in a while?

— Of a Sunday morning I take long rides. I own a pure – blood stallion that is very attached to me.

A smile lit up the baroness’s sorrowful countenance.

— That’s splendid, really. You seem to be an extremely fortunate person. In my opinion steeds are unusually sensitive, responsive beings in many respects superior even to…

— Mother! Please… – countess Loretti cut in imploringly.

— Let me finish, Esther – commanded the baroness trenchantly. – I am certain horses can well be considered as your best friends and I will never recant my words whatever you might say… I think that one of these days….tomorrow perhaps… you would be well-advised to select a stallion or one of the mares from our stable, and along with Ellen take a ride through the neighbourhood ....the more so that since the death of my husband...and my son… hardly anyone rides our steeds – she paused, lapsing pensively into short silence which the gathered company thought discourteous to break, then, upon glancing at the long white envelope a maid had just delivered her the baroness rose from her armchair and, supporting herself with one hand on the back of the settee she bade her relatives good day.

— Will you excuse me – I’m rather tired. I must take a rest – she added leaving the room with airy step.

— Ellen – said countess Loretti as soon as the distinguished lady had turned the corner of the corridor and vanished from sight. – I assume that Robert would like to make a tour of the castle. For all I remember one of his ancestors… – she paused embarrassed. – I’m afraid his name escapes me…

— Baron Benucci. – said Robert.

— Oh, yes, so it is. – rejoined the countess visibly relieved. – Thus baron Benucci had been in residence in this estate for some length of time before the manor became the Lorettis’ property. I’m certain that a visit to these ancient palatial rooms will prove a fascinating experience.

— I shall be delighted, Madam. – Robert bowed his thanks. – I’m very obliged to you.

The castle was a huge magnificent edifice. While roaming long sinuous corridors one might get the impression of having been cast back to the Middle Ages. Spacious palace chambers – through the bygone centuries – had witnessed both tragic events and happy moments, concealed within their walls confessions of secret lovers whispered during clandestine rendezvous as well as insidious plots hatched by treacherous assassins. The windows of this eastern wing overlooked glistening sea-sheet. Surging waves rolled swiftly by, impetuously banging against the buttress vainly trying to reach high walls of the noble pile.

— As far as I can recollect my ancestor’s life-history portrayed in our chronicles that is the set of rooms baron Benucci resided in. – stated Robert halting in front of one of the apartments on the second floor.

— How long did he inhabit the mansion?

— He arrived here about 1620 and stayed for over twenty years.

— And then returned to Italy?

— This is what he initially intended to do but apparently he never reached homeland, vanished on his return journey, no trace has ever been found of him.

— Really? Oh, well, don’t you think that in the meantime some very urgent matter may have arisen, a serious obstacle that thwarted his original plans? There is also a chance that – when confronted with some peril obscure to us – he was compelled to go into hiding and had no opportunity to apprise any of his relatives of the extremity he had got into.

— Most likely that was just the case. After all, Benucci lived in very unsettled times and seemed to feel uncertain of the future.

— Was he involved in a conspiracy of some sort?

— I think not. In accordance with the particulars I have been intimated it was some vague, highly abstruse emergency – or – you could call it an unlucky coincidence – that concurred to his speedily fleeing Italy overnight – whereas thereafter he was forbidden to return home unless he complied with a certain requirement. To my knowledge the fugitive never succeeded in meeting these terms and consequently resolved to retire from the world and establish himself in this outlying spot. As things stood sad plight he had found himself in proved inextricable.

— What condition was the man imposed?

— This is what I never managed to find out. – admitted Robert. – in those times it was a family secret relayed on the sly only by word of mouth, evidently much too tangled to be chronicled.

— Your forbear must have felt terribly lonely in this manor – Ellen looked at the solitary landscape unfolding itself beyond the window.

— He certainly had. The few letters he had sent relatives by favour of some friends – preserved at the time and over many further years in close concealment – showed that initially he was in a critical situation and it took him quite a while to conform himself to the extremity

— Then you have no idea what caused Benucci to leave Italy so suddenly?

— Not even the foggiest. The only available record in our archives portrays but extremely vague version of events …-oh, by the way, who did this chamber belong to? – the man pointed to the nearby beautifully engraved door.

They had just entered a fan-shaped hall giving access to three bedrooms and a couple of parlours. The one indicated by Robert appeared to be totally furnished, all the antique furniture maintained in perfect trim, even a fancy leather-bound Bible still lay on the veneered mahogany bedside table which fact had got imprinted on Ellen’s memory in early childhood when she had first been shown to this suite of rooms and which now, upon unlocking the door with the key her mother had provided her with was the first thing she noticed.

— These are the apartments baroness Esterina occupied over 300 years ago. – replied the girl admitting her fiancé into the ancestor’s parlour.. – she didn’t taste much happiness in her life.

— You mean to say she was unhappily married?

— Oh, no, quite the reverse. Originally everything shaped just splendidly. Esterina married the man she loved to distraction and for a span of time they both lived a life of perfect bliss – that bliss however wasn’t meant to last long. Several years later some kind of misfortune befell her husband. He is presumed to have been treacherously assassinated. The baroness, feeling absolutely unable to reconcile herself to her spouse’s death, committed suicide soon after the murder – recounted Ellen glancing through the Bible. Then, having read a short excerpt from it she replaced the book on the table.

— The lady’s apartments – continued the girl – remained in exactly the same state as in her lifetime. Nothing whatever has been altered in this suite for centuries, no piece of furniture has ever been moved or rearranged. Such was Esterina’s last wish and it was gratified to the letter.

— Quite a dismal story.

— So it is indeed. Would you like to see the portrait gallery now? I’ll introduce you to my ancestry. You should make their acquaintance.

— Do you think I’ll receive their approval? – smiled Robert.

— Certainly. I’m confident they will be enchanted to meet you, and… oh, Angie!

Angelica, rushing along the corridor, almost cannoned into Ellen as the latter, accompanied by her fiancé, was stepping into the lobby. The girl’s hair was dishevelled, her face flushed, strange sparkles glinted in her eyes as she came to a halt at the sight of the couple.

— Oh, good afternoon, Ellen. I never expected to chance upon you in these unfrequented parts. – she said somewhat abashed.

— I didn’t see you this morning. Mother told me you were unwell. Is your headache gone? – inquired Ellen.

— Yes, I’m much better now. I apologize for failing to attend your engagement ceremony. I am aware that for you it was a celebration of special nature but I really could not participate in it. I hope you’ll forgive me and won’t bear me a grudge for that. – she muttered staring avidly at the glittering necklace adorning Ellen’s neck. She reached out and gingerly touched some of the gems set in gold open work mount.

— As I can see you have already been presented with your wedding gift. – she stated unable to take her eyes off the diamonds.

— It’s superb, isn’t it?

— Marvellous. – whispered Angie. – simply gorgeous. It’s the most beautiful necklace I have ever seen. It has always fascinated me. Each time aunt Esther shows it to us I just… – oh, well, – she controlled herself and withdrew her hand. – You are extremely lucky, Ellen. You are the one who had the good fortune to have succeeded to the relic. To be honest I do envy you this rivière.

— We can have an identical necklace made to order for you. – Ellen stroked the girl’s hair. – If only you had told us you had taken such great fancy to it… but – where exactly have you been? – she asked a bit puzzled, noticing a couple of grass blades that had got stuck to some strands of Angie’s long curls.

— I… I just got back from the cemetery.

— The cemetery? – inquired Robert in astonishment.

— There is an old graveyard a little way from the castle, opposite the rear entrance, dating back to the 16th century – explained Ellen when Angie, upon bidding them good-bye, rushed down the winding corridor towards her room. – last year we took her to that place in order to show her the sepulchre baroness Esterina had been buried in. The climate of the tomb created an unusually powerful impression on her and ever since, whenever the opportunity arises, she perseveres in visiting it to say a prayer and put some flowers on the gravestone.

— A girl of her age should have other interests than attending upon the departed.

— Angie is only fifteen though she looks even younger than that. She has changed a great deal since last year – since her first visit to Esterina’s vault in fact. Right now she seems more judicious than she was several months ago. Frankly speaking I don’t see much of her although she is my only cousin. – the young lady added in self-justification locking the baroness’s apartments and guiding her fiancé to the chambers on the ground floor.

The portrait gallery looked very grandiose by daylight. The enormous hall was embellished with finely carved pillars which faithfully reflected splendour and atmosphere prevailing in the castle through the previous centuries. From the magnificent paintings distrustful countenances of the manor’s former proprietors surveyed the visitors ambling along the gallery.

— That’s the portrait of my grandfather – Ellen indicated the picture hanging in the very middle of the hall. – I remember him perfectly well. He was a charming man. When I was a small child he used to play games with me, and it was he who taught me to play billiards and tennis

— Was he the one who died of a heart attack? You claimed that most men in your family had died a sudden, often violent and tragic death

— No, the person afflicted with heart failure was my father. But as far as my grandfather is concerned – the matter is past solution, I’m afraid. He disappeared in mysterious circumstances – circumstances which have never been elucidated. One day or rather – one night – he left home in great haste to keep an appointment made by an acquaintance of his on desolate moorland bordering on rocky area and the forest – it’s about two miles away from the castle. He decided to walk the distance – was exceedingly reluctant to drive over to the spot nor was he willing to reach the meeting place on horseback.

— Moorland? I seem to have heard about it. It’s said to be trappy and pretty impenetrable for visitors, teeming with grottoes and degraded rocks. Moreover it is rumoured to be haunted although I, for my part, doubt whether in open spaces phantoms are indeed that inclined to manifest themselves… by the way, have you any idea as to the identity of the mysterious stranger who fixed that clandestine appointment with your grandfather?

— Grandpa, to everyone’s surprise, was extremely reluctant to disclose the man’s name. My grandmother, too, was amazed at his reticence on the topic since hitherto, before taking the final resolve – it had been customary for grandpa to consult his wife on various problems. On that particular evening, however, the man was unusually secretive and uncommunicative, wouldn’t reveal any details. Directly after dinner, his trusted footman fetched grandpa’s fur coat and – equipped with two powerful electric torches – they both left home.

— A stealthy encounter by torchlight – pondered Robert. – sounds weird. In olden times a surreptitious appointment of this kind might be suggestive of hatching a plot purposed to overthrow the government. – he remarked jocosely.

— In olden times – possibly – smiled Ellen amused at her fiancé’s playfulness. – but in his days, having always been a staunch royalist -,my beloved grandpa would deem such a conjecture, even if enounced in jest, – as an offence to his honour. My grandpa’s memory isn’t a thing to be trifled with. He was a winsome, courteous man, I admit I simply adored him.

— I apologize, Ellen. – Robert grew serious. – I meant no umbrage. Only the story you told me just roused my imagination.

— Certainly. On that night the entire family was at a loss how to read grandfather’s inscrutability. It was beyond our comprehension. All the more reason for our being that appalled by the following day’s events.

— The encounter went wrong? The parties concerned failed to come to terms?

— We had no ghost of a chance to learn anything about the upshot of the appointment. As neither man returned home that night- very early next morning my folks notified the police who immediately set out in quest of both comrades. – the girl paused, pensive. – after a long-drawn search, at noon, grandpa was eventually found – alas – dead. He had been dead for several hours.

— The notification must have given you all a tremendous shock. I understand from your tale that the cause of the man’s demise has never been elucidated and over the years nobody whatsoever succeeded in obtaining whatever particulars concerning the culprit responsible for the crime.

— Actually, the inquest the police immediately opened was all along based on presumptive evidence. There is no absolute certainty that that particular case could be recognized as an assassination.

— On the other hand your grandfather can’t possibly have made his way to the moorland just before midnight to commit suicide.

— Definitely not. His death can by no means be ascribed to suicide. When discovered he lay flat on the ground clutching a still alight torch. The expression on his face, however, was indicative of a desperate attempt he had made – directly before passing away – to explain or justify something, clear up a grievous misunderstanding perhaps, either to persuade or bring his point home to his interlocutor. No sign of fright or apprehension was visible in his face, nothing but that apologetic look none of us felt able to account for…

— And what became of Alex who was to keep your grandpa company? Having witnessed the encounter he was surely the most reliable person to shed some light on the matter.

— The footman vanished. There was no trace of him either on the moorland or in the local forest. He was nowhere to be found.

— How do you mean? – exclaimed Robert so that the walls of the huge chamber sonorously reverberated the sound of his voice. The man lowered his tone.

— In that case aren’t you of the opinion that it’s the domestic who is sure to bear the blame for his master’s homicide? It may have been an act of disloyalty on his part.

— Oh, no, this is entirely out of the question. – Ellen fervently refuted the assumption. – The footman enjoyed my grandfather’s unlimited, implicit confidence. They were the same age, had been raised together from infancy under the same roof, ever since childhood. Alex had shared grandfather’s all secrets, therefore, if then, on that particular night grandpa asked the man to accompany him the appointment must have been of vital importance indeed.

— Surely the police must have found some clues, traces.

— That’s the problem. There were no traces. No traces, no footprints.

— No footprints? Incredible.

— None at all. Police dogs kept running to no avail about the moorland for hours on end but discovered no scent whatsoever.

— What horrible death to die. – remarked Robert gloomily. – Yet, – I believe the disaster might have well been averted if someone, say – a family member had followed him keeping of course at a safe distance from both men so as to pass unnoticed in order to find out where they were heading and thus get the run of things.

— That’s just what a cousin of his did. It was one of my uncles who a couple of days before the tragedy had arrived on a fortnight’s visit to the castle. He appeared to be exceedingly alarmed at grandpa’s bizarre reaction to some mysterious letter he was delivered one evening by an express messenger. Grandfather got extremely vexed at the sight of the sender’s name scribbled on the envelope and became still more exasperated when he began reading the note. Afterwards however, when questioned on the subject he flatly refused to comment on the dispatch’s contents. Subsequently -grandfather and his footman retired to the library and there conferred the matter in whisper for over an hour.

— Who was the letter from?

— We have no idea. Alex burnt it to cinders by grandpa’s order.

— Well, well. Alex seems to be the only person initiated into the whole business. How strange. By the way, what was the upshot of shadowing your grandpa? Did your uncle succeed in spotting any suspicious looking individual or eavesdropping on their conversation?

— Unfortunately not, much to his regret., my grandfather perceived that uncle was keeping track of him and strictly enjoined his kinsman to return home.

— You mean to say your uncle so unreservedly acquiesced in the request? I, for my part, would never have complied with it, particularly under these circumstances.

— You’re quite right. Uncle had no intention of obeying the command either. He lurked behind a tree for a minute or two till he felt certain that this time he would no doubt escape both grandpa’s and Alex’s notice, then, on hearing their voices recede, trying his best to keep out of sight – he followed both men’s traces again – I mean – he set off in the same direction they had made for.

— Therefore he must have seen the killer.

— On the contrary. Hard as he tried he didn’t manage to discern anyone – neither of the men, let alone the person they were supposed to meet, and while reporting to the whole family the previous night’s events he was forced to confess that both grandpa and Alex seemed to have vanished into thin air. They were nowhere to be seen. Uncle kept wandering about the moorland for almost two hours looking for them but since he discerned nobody, heard no voices, not so much as a scrap of conversation, he decided to return home.

Robert stood silent in front of the family elder’s portrait staring at it intently as though keen on penetrating the forbidding secret so meticulously withheld by the noble personage.

— Surely you’d also like to become acquainted with the history of the other notorieties represented on further pictures. – Ellen interrupted his mediations. – How do you like that gentleman with long black beard over there?

— It’s rather the portrait of that dignified young man I’m intrigued by – Robert indicated a full-length painting mounted in an oval gilded frame. – do you happen to know who it presents?

The portrait which excited Robert’s curiosity hang across the hall, right next to the door. Rays of the setting sun falling through the window shone on the picture – lambent beams of playful light livened up dark almond shaped eyes and fine-featured countenance of a presentable youth exhibited in the portrait. While contemplating it at close range a visitor could get the impression he was gazing into the eyes of a living person.

— I’m afraid I have no idea who this is. – replied Ellen somewhat perplexed. – For all I know that painting has been hanging here for several centuries. I’ve been told that the former proprietor of the castle, when negotiating terms of the sale, stipulated that my forefathers retain this portrait upon transference of the title deed to the manor, never remove it from the gallery, let alone dispose of it. Since the painting is a real masterpiece my folks consented to keep it.

— I see. – Robert approached the picture scanning narrowly the gentleman’s countenance. Ellen cast her fiancé an arch glance veiling ill-concealed reproach.

— Directly after our sumptuous engagement party the man of my choice starts to ignore me and seems to take much greater interest in the portraits rather than in his betrothed.

— I apologize, Ellen. I never meant to hurt your feelings. You’re perfectly aware how much you mean to me. – and it’s not all these pictures that arouse my interest. – rejoined Robert his gaze still fixed on the painting. – It’s chiefly the portrait of that refined nobleman I am struck with. I find it a bit puzzling… there is something rather singular about it.

— In what respect?

— Well, I’m under the impression that the man it presents is baron Benucci.

— Are you sure?

— I saw his miniature a couple of days ago – prior to my arrival over here. Of course Marco Benucci was but a youth when it was painted, – still, extraordinary resemblance between the two men is very distinct, clearly perceptible. Oh, yes – I’m positive it’s my relative’s portrait. Except for the signet-ring he wears which I’ve never seen before the features on both pictures are almost identical.

— Supposing you’re in the right – it’s hardly to be wondered at. After all he inhabited this manor for quite many years.

— Indeed. On the other hand I should like to know what on earth impelled a man living an evidently lonely life, rumoured to have resided throughout those years in Spartan conditions, scarcely ever – if at all – entertaining visitors, to order his likeness painted.

— As I see both yourself and your relations are totally ignorant of the style of life baron Marco had led in this mansion – remarked Ellen.

— I regret to admit the data my family is in possession of is but extremely scanty, absolutely insufficient to reconstruct the vicissitudes he had undergone. Throughout those twenty years Benucci spent here his kinsfolk practically lost touch with him. It was exceptionally rare for Marco to send them any news at all. Relatives on their part were in no position to contact the man since Benucci, just to be on the safe side, never informed them of his whereabouts for fear that they might unintentionally blunder it out. The only messages they sometimes received used to be delivered personally through his trusted friends who invariably kept his residence in the strictest secrecy. The man had been forced to take such precautionary measures in order to baffle pursuers since, as I’ve been told after his speedy flight from Italy the relentless ill – wishers, anxious to track the refugee down, – for months, – then years at a stretch – continued to do their level best to take up his reference. Thus, it wasn’t until over twenty years later that for some reason or other things took a new turn and baron’s relatives were eventually notified of his exact domicile. And now – Robert moved away from the portrait – will my beautiful guide kindly show me round the vicinity. I would also be happy to pay a visit to the tomb of the foundress of your dynasty.

— Dynasty? That ‘s an overstatement, – laughed Ellen. – Is this how you chose to term my house? Well, just now I’ll take you round the estate and a part of the neighbourhood,. Before we leave the castle, however, you’d be well – advised to take a look at the miniature statuettes representing the dynasty’s, as you designated my family – cavaliers and knights.

— I shall be glad to.

On the marble plate of the mantelshelf stood lined up images of the ancestry.

— These are – started Ellen indicating the statues – some of the most illustrious… – she broke off catching sight of a mutilated figurine recumbent at the extremity of the row, holding in its metal palm a sword which had evidently been recently fissured.

— Oh, no! – she moaned. – Not again!

— What’s the matter? – inquired Robert.

— That’s the umpteenth time the statuette of this knight has collapsed. Both I – whenever I’m home – and the domestics keep putting it upright each morning they enter the gallery but the figurine never lasts through the night in standing posture – the very next day it appears to have tilted over another time, down on the marble plate. Although my mother had it checked once or twice at a repair shop it still keeps tumbling.

Robert reached for the statuette and turning it round examined it carefully from all sides.

— There is nothing wrong with it as far as I can see. Except for the fissured sword everything is in proper shape. The mounting is quite steady, there is no need to have it re-fixed.

— If so why does it keep toppling over?

— A gust of wind may have knocked it down – suggested Danvall.

— Every single night? Rather unlikely.

— Who does this effigy represent, by the way?

Colonel Cardan. His portrait hangs near the door in the right-hand corner.

From the painting huge, dark, almost black almond shaped eyes embellishing the ancestor’s handsome face gazed at the couple pensively. The nobleman’s countenance reminded Robert of someone he undoubtedly knew though at the present moment he found it impossible to call to mind the person the knight on the portrait bore such great resemblance to.

— Judging by his exterior – the man spoke at length – the colonel must have been an uncommonly refined, and distinguished gentleman. He certainly deserves a superior position than at the tail-end of the array. Let’s move him to the front rank close by the king. Hopefully the re-arrangement may improve the colonel’s frame of mind.

X X X X X X

The castle, when viewed from afar – seemed difficult of access, the more so that there was only one winding narrow road leading up to it. Baron Benucci could well enjoy feeling of perfect security in this setting, should he furthermore be desirous of shunning visitors or purposed to shelter himself from inquisitive meddlers. One wing of the edifice, situated on a buttress overlooked vast expanse of opalescent azure sea sheet while the windows of the northern part faced an extensive flowery meadow and moorland bordering on rampant lush forest. Although at present, in mid-November, the district looked somewhat dreary, the stately castle created an ambience of grandeur. When Robert and Ellen returned from a long tour later that evening the murky halls seemed deserted, the corridors illumined only by sparse tiny crystal sconces casting eerie shadows on the walls, as most kith and kin had already retired for the night to their suits. Having extinguished the remaining lamps lord Danvall escorted his fiancée to her apartment, then, upon parting with her, ambled across the corridor to his own set of room he had been accommodated in by countess Loretti. Lamplight in Ellen’s boudoir shone for a couple of minutes, then went out. Robert smiled to himself jubilant. Although their wedding ceremony wasn’t to be celebrated until the following month he already gleefully looked forward to the festivity in the offing. How wonderful it would be to be married to a girl like Ellen, sharing his life with her. Never before he had met such a charming lass and felt certain he was unlikely to ever again see her match. She was quite unique.

As on nearing his lodgings he pulled the door open it creaked. The sound puzzled him. The hinges were well oiled, the door itself of solid workmanship. While admiring magnificent artistic ornamentation chiselled on its surface he heard the grind recur. This time it surely didn’t issue from his apartment. A loud rattle followed by another weird sound came from the hall situated on the floor below. Robert descended the stairs and bent his steps in that direction. When he turned the corner of the – in this sector – dark corridor – at the very back of it he caught a glimpse of glimmering blaze of a lighted candle. Wan flame dimmed now and then. It was clearly visible that the palm of the stranger standing in the gloom, clutching the candle was evidently trembling. Long shadow of the silhouette lingering in the nook of the hall fell on the tessellated floor of the spacious chamber vis-à-vis. A bit puzzled at the sight of the lonely quiescent figure barely perceptible in the dusk, however unsuccessful in turning on the light for apparent lack of switches on this storey, Robert advanced towards the silhouette.

As he approached – in the stock – still, rooted to the spot figure – he recognized Anna. The maid stood motionless outside equally murky at present portrait gallery watching – as though mesmerized – its gloomy interior. Entirely preoccupied with something she must have noticed in there that totally absorbed her attention she obviously failed to hear Robert’s footsteps, for she shuddered when on drawing near the man spoke to her and, springing back, cast him a stare of horror.

— Good heavens, Anna! What the deuce are you doing in this eerie place at this time of night? I believed the whole household, the staff included, kept early hours and expected the inmates to be fast asleep by now. After all it’s long past midnight.

The maid, looking rather perplexed, was just about to answer the question – before she managed to utter a word, however, another bang, followed by a thud of plod resounded again – this time at very close range.. The sound proceeded from the obscure chamber opposite them where even the hearth had since a long time been extinguished.

— Who on earth can be roistering in the gallery at such a late hour? – reflected Robert. – In pitch – darkness on top of that, without turning the light on. Whoever chose to roam that place must be using a strong torch. The hall is inky-black. It can’t be the countess, let alone a relative of hers. None of them has any reason to be that secretive. Well, then, who is in there, do you know, Anna? Oh, never mind. I guess I had better check up on that myself. – he added and without waiting for the domestic’s reply took a step towards the hall. At that very moment, though, before Robert had a chance to cross the threshold, the maid, having got ahead of him like a shot, blocked the way to the chamber with her outstretched arm trying to prevent the man from entering it.

— Oh, no! lord Danvall, don’t go in there! Please don’t!

— What’s the matter, Anna? Let me through, will you?

He pushed away the horrified girl’s hand and as he was on the point of stepping into the gallery the maid, barring his path again, seized firm hold of his jacket’s coat-tail in order to stop him.

— Your lordship, I wish you’d listen to me. Take my advice… you mustn’t enter that chamber now!

— Calm down, Anna – rejoined Robert impatiently, annoyed at the girl’s irrational behaviour. – A sumptuous manor such as this surely lures burglars of all types. Supposing that rumble is caused by robbers who made an irruption onto the premises despite the security systems installed. Tomorrow morning it may well turn out that the gallery had been stripped of its most valuable paintings, sculptures, etc. – various splendid works of art and then it will be us who will – no doubt – be held responsible for remissness. – argued Robert hoping to bring the maid to reason – despite Anna’s obstinacy – thinking it highly ungentlemanly – just to rudely elbow her aside so as to thereby work his way into the hall. – For the moment, until we ascertain the source of the noise there is no need to give the alarm to the rest of the household – and now – would you please stand clear of the door. – he demanded attempting to tear the lapel of his jacket out of the stubborn girl’s grasp who even then wouldn’t budge from the chamber’s door-sill doggedly keeping her ground, still rendering it impossible for him to enter the gallery.

— You are right, sir. – admitted the maid completely ignoring Danvall’s request. – All the works of art assembled in there are priceless, unique. Apart from antique sculptures the gallery also houses 16th and 17th century paintings, including lots of other masterpieces. Nevertheless you can take my word for it my lord – hazarding yourself into that room at this late hour is extremely risky.

— I credited you with more sense, Anna. – Since – as you declare – you know the value of the amassed collection you undeniably also understand that countess Loretti can’t afford to lose any of the masterpieces.

I have already told you, sir, that whoever entered the gallery is not a burglar – persisted the maid – it’s… – she faltered. – it’s… him… and I assure you it would never… never ever occur to him to rob the mansion… simply because the entire property had once belonged… – she broke off lowering her voice fearfully.

— What!? Who exactly do you have in mind? – Robert stared at the girl in astonishment. – you seem to be acquainted with the caller! Are you? Tell me the truth!

— In these parts, as it were, everyone is familiar with him… I mean – the whole neighbourhood, all the local residents have either met the visitor personally – or know him from hearsay… except Miss Ellen perhaps. I guess she is the only person who – I believe – has no idea of the man’s existence.

— Well, then, Anna. – demanded Robert both exasperated and intrigued – the intruder – whoever he is, must surely have heard and seen us by now and may just be making his escape – all through you wilfulness. So, – if you do know the chap would you at least mind disclosing his name to me?

Anna shook her head violently.

— Oh, no, sir. Never. Never in my life. I dare not.. I’m scared.

— What of?

— If I reveal his identity he is sure to take his revenge on me. I’m dead certain of that.

— Is the fellow that savage? – asked Robert a bit incredulous. – Really, Anna… – oh, wait a moment – an idea suddenly struck him. – are you implying you have already seen the man on the premises? You appear to know him quite well.

— I do, sir. – whispered the maid. – To be honest I glimpsed him on frequent occasions, plenty of times and I’ve been warned that if I happen to antagonize him… anyway, lord Danvall, – I have reasons to believe that the moment I betray the caller’s name I’m sure to incur his ill-will.

Who was the mysterious stranger Anna was so terrified of? – wondered Robert.

— Aren’t you giving the reins to your imagination?

— I can swear to it, your lordship – entering the gallery after dark particularly at this time of night, is tantamount to exposing yourself to danger, – a serious danger.

The girl was trembling with fear. There seemed to be no grounds to distrust her veracity...

— If the stranger is not a burglar and is considered to be that vindictive – then – for some unknown motive – Ellen is also likely to fall victim to his unrestrained revengefulness and I’d do just anything to prevent it. Therefore don’t try to stop me, Anna, nothing whatever can possibly deter me from inspecting that chamber!

— Yes, my lord. – I quite understand. – whined the domestic, finally relinquishing her grip of Robert’s garment and stepping back to make way for him. The man, striding past her, hurried inside the gallery from the depth of which once again some odd sound reached his ears. This time, however, a different kind of noise, much louder, shriller than before, resembling squeak of a sharp-edged metal object being shifted along the wall, was heard.

— Good heavens, Anna, where the hell are the switches in this hall? – inquired Robert irritably as upon crossing the door-sill and vainly groping for one he found none.

— No switches have been installed in this wing of the castle. Baroness Esterina desired this part of the edifice to remain in exactly the same condition as it was in her lifetime. Her wish was complied with – in great measure, that is.

— No switches? Incredible!

— Only one third of the building has been electrified. No other quarters apart from the currently inhabited apartments have been wired. As for the baroness’s former chambers – her wish was gratified to the full extent...

For a split second Robert felt slightly uneasy – for no longer than a twinkling, though. The very next instant he controlled himself.

— Oh, well. If that is the case… would you mind lending me your candle, Anna? There appears to be no other manner in which to illumine that large hall. I haven’t brought any flash-light with me. It never occurred to me I would need one. You don’t seem to be equipped with any either, are you?

— I once dropped a torch and it got shattered to pieces, that’s why I consider candles to be safer. I’ve got two more in my pocket. I formed a habit of carrying a couple on me just in case of a contingency. – she replied, handing one to Robert.

— You are a very provident person, I admit. Will you follow me into the gallery?

— Oh, no! No, sir. – flinched Anna promptly retreating into the farthermost recess of the dark corridor. – I’d much rather stay here.

Robert lit the candle and upon crossing the threshold in its wavering flame looked round the spacious hall. At first glance it was totally empty.

— Well, Anna. – lord Danvall said to the maid. – whoever ventured to invade the chamber must surely be gone by now. There isn’t a living soul in here.

At that very moment he perceived the girl’s eyes widen with horror as she stared fixedly at something she had discerned in the interior of the hall. Robert turned and gazed in the same direction. This time he, too, noticed someone’s presence in the gallery. Anna was right. After all some stranger did force an entrance into the castle. In obscurity loomed a silhouette of a powerfully built man wearing a stylish 17th century attire. The intruder stood by the marble mantelpiece passing his hand over the collection of the noblemen’s statuettes Robert had admired only several hours before. A clangour of a heavy metal object being pushed over resounded.

— Who are you? How did you get inside the building? – demanded Robert sharply. – Don’t move! The police are already on their way here. – he bluffed, stepping forward and lifting the candle high up in the air to take a good look at the man. The stranger withdrew his hand and slowly turned round to face Robert. His green doublet was spotless, yet snow-white lace ruche adorning his sleeve got a little soiled through contact with a dash of soot covering the top of the hearth mantelshelf. Silver-grey curls of the man’s wig were dishevelled. For a long while Danvall stood rooted to the ground surveying the intruder incredulously as it gradually began to dawn on him that the odd outfit the man wore was by no means a theatrical costume – as he had originally assumed – and the individual himself undoubtedly constituted an inseparable integral component – part and parcel – of the gorgeous manor which he was rightfully entitled to abide. Wonder-struck the squire released hold of the candle which slipped from his palm and died down on the tessellated floor.

— Your lordship! Are you all right?

— It’s okay, Anna, get me another candle! Hurry!

Standing in the middle of the gallery Robert illuminated the entire hall again. The stranger was no longer there, – nowhere to be seen. Lord Danvall hastened towards the fireplace and attentively examined the statues meticulously arranged on the mantelshelf. The whole detachment kept in close order – all except the little figurine of colonel Cardan which at present lay helplessly aslant on the very edge of the marble top mercilessly smashed by someone’s ruthless hand. The knight’s sabre was fissured in many places, the blade tip visibly severed.

Robert crossed the gallery and halted in front of the portrait of the dynasty’s elder – count Enrico Loretti.

The nobleman’s dark eyes, burning with fury in the gloomy countenance encompassed with silver-grey curls flowing down on the green doublet darted at lord Danvall from the loftiness of his portrait – piercing icy cold glances, breathed boundless hatred and enmity.

II

— Good morning, Ellen. How do you feel after the first day in your family estate having resided away from home for such a long time?

— Just marvellous, Robert, although at daybreak I dreamt some horrible nightmare, and how about you? When you arrive in an unfamiliar environment in most cases you tend to spend a wakeful night – inquired Ellen as the pair was descending the stairs on their way to the dining-room on the following morning..

— This rule does not appertain to me. I have always been a sound sleeper. I might just as well drop off to slumber in the middle of the prairie provided I would shove under my head a saddle doing duty for a pillow.

— Oh, dear! – Ellen burst out laughing. – You don’t seem to think very highly of our four-posters, do you? I wonder – have you really found our superb 18th century bedrooms that uncomfortable?

— There is nowhere else, I daresay, that one can possibly chance upon this kind of furniture or interior decoration. – Robert grew serious. – Those chambers have witnessed distant times of illustrious kings and courtiers standing nightly guard over their masters or sovereigns, interdicting unwelcome visitors from disturbing their monarchs’ sleep. Oh, by the by – talking of the past ages – there is something I need to consult your mother about. Do you mind if I speak to her directly after breakfast? It won’t take long… well, it’s a slight modification of our today’s program, but…

— That’s all right, honey. – Ellen assured her fiancé. – I’ve got a couple of things to see to as well therefore we can safely postpone the arrangements by an hour or so… incidentally – have you any idea where Angie is? I’d like to present her with a gift. In the jewel casket I brought with me from London among other trinkets I also keep a lovely gold tulip– shaped pendant with a large ruby. I realize that this gem will by no means substitute for the necklace she is so entranced with, however…

— Angie is at the cemetery. – interposed Robert. – She went there half an hour ago. To be precise she rushed out of the building. Just as the footman entered my apartment to serve me with my morning coffee we saw her scorch past us down the corridor.

— At the cemetery again. – sighed Ellen. Oh, well, I don’t think that after all this time my cousin’s frequent visits to that place should continue to spring a surprise on me, nonetheless in my estimation her adoration of that dreary burial ground has turned into a positive craze.

— I quite agree with you. At any rate, as she briefly explained to us on her way out she intended to pay a visit to baroness Esterina’s tomb first thing in the morning.

— Baroness Esterina is not Angie’s patroness. – stated Ellen. – she’s unlikely to be of any aid to her.

— Esterina is not her patroness? – Robert looked astounded. – I’m afraid. I don’t understand. What exactly do you mean?

— Oh, I must have forgotten to make mention of a certain tradition strictly observed by the entire family. As is customary the eldest daughter of the dynasty is always christened after the baroness or at least her forename should start with the letter “E”. The baroness is acknowledged as the foundress of our stock. In accordance with the legend if the eldest daughter bearing that name requests the lady to come to her assistance in whatever shape or form the patroness will never disappoint her descendant.

— Has Esterina even borne you a helping hand?

— It has never occurred to me to seek her advice. Frankly speaking I’m a bit mistrustful of the story. All kinds of legends are derived purely from recognized traditions, comprise oddities inherently present in most ancient castles, palaces, various outlying places and predominantly contain nothing but a shred of truth. The major part of such tales is usually invented by people who aim at lending lure and weirdness to antique edifices… oh, good morning, grandma… has Anna failed to serve breakfast to your chamber? – inquired the girl entering the dining-room, amazed to perceive baroness Emma seated at the long table engrossed in a lively conversation with a relative of hers, countess Esther Loretti but occasionally adding a casual remark.

— Grandmother gazed up at Ellen and smiled.

— I thought it advisable to join you for meal this once – she replied. – Besides – full moon last night kept me awake till daybreak. And what about you, Robert? How do you like it in our mansion? – the lady addressed lord Danvall taking a seat next to her. – Don’t you find the seclusion of this place a little annoying?

— Quite the reverse, Madam. I myself was raised in an equally remote district, except that my parents’ manor was situated a mile or so closer to the urban area. Actually I find the setting of this castle – with its ceaseless murmur of the sea – extremely fascinating indeed….-the man broke off, a bit taken aback at the sight of Angie who had just stormed into the dining-hall, her auburn hair wind-blown, then – never sparing the gathered company a single glance, – totally ignoring all the other household members, – she promptly nestled in a chair directly opposite baroness Emma and, snatching a silver fork, pulled over to herself eggs and bacon dish the maid had swiftly served her with.

— Hallo, Angie. You’re late. – countess Loretti gently rebuked her niece.

— I know, Auntie. I couldn’t possibly help it.

— You’ve come right in the middle of breakfast. After all you could go to the cemetery when the meal was over.

— Oh, no, – that’s out of the question. I had to go there early in the morning. – mumbled the girl devouring her course with huge mouthfuls.

— But why? What on earth made you leave home almost at dawn? I don’t see any reason…

Angie gulped down another morsel and from above her plate cast at her aunt a withering glance.

— I simply had to go! – she cried. – I had to! – Don’t ask me why!

Baroness Emma gave the girl a look of reproof.