From The Animated Skeleton (1798) by Anonymous
From Volume I:
DISMALLY was the tempest howling round the cottage of Jacquemar; the snow beat in at the osier watling, which served for windows: it fell on the ill-formed roof, and melted through it. The infant sons of the peasant crept close to their father, half terrified and nearly cold. "Do, papa, wrap us in your cloke, and keep us warm," cried the eldest:-'Tell us a story,' said the youngest, 'until mamma comes home, and gives us some victuals. Why don't she come?' "Alas," replied Jacquemar, whose bosom was filled with anxiety for the return of his Dunisleda, "my love, I know not; she went to seek provisions; and if not more fortunate than usual, you will be obliged to go to sleep without a supper. Perhaps she is staying to procure some money." 'Why do not you go and bring her home, papa?' "My dear child, she went to sell some cheese, but I know not whither she turned."-The sound of a person who tried to enter at the wicket-door of the cottage, made the hearts of the children beat quick with hope and joy. 'Oh, it is mamma! it is mamma!'-"Ah, my dears, she would enter immediately; but I will go and see."-The cottage of Jacquemar was divided into two rooms; one in which they slept and lived; and a smaller one, in which they penned a goat: the entrance into the dwelling being through the smaller, they could not discover who was coming; but on arriving at the wicket, Jacquemar found it was indeed Dunisleda. Her strength had but just supported her to the door, which she had made an ineffectual effort to open. Cold, fear, and weakness, had rendered her hands too much benumbed to perform their office: that being done by Jacquemar, she attempted to rush in; but before she could accomplish her purpose she fainted on the bosom of her husband. Jacquemar, in his arms, carried her to the fire (which the snow had nearly extinguished) but the sudden alarm and grief that penetrated his heart, prevented his lending her any other assistance. Almost reduced to equal torpor with his wife, he could only press her to his bosom and gaze upon her face, which was bloody; and her clothes were wet and torn. The youngest infant rubbed his mother's hands, to restore their warmth, whilst the weeping eldest raked the few embers on the hearth together, and, after warming his own scanty coverings, crawled up and wrapped them round his mother's shoulders. Long was it before Dunisleda discovered any signs of re-animation; but at length opening her eyes, she drew a sigh; she beheld her husband and children. Surprize first warmed her countenance; the surprize which we feel when after being separated a few moments from the dominions of reason, we return from the illusions of a distempered brain to the regions of reality. Thought returning, she faintly smiled, and softly said, but in an agitated whisper, "Fly, my Jacquemar, let us fly to some distant cottage imme---" The sounds died upon her lips, the effort overcame her, and she again became insensible. Her miserable husband and his little ones each uttered a cry of horror. At that moment a figure rushed in, wrapped up in a long cloke, and his features covered; 'Fly Jacquemar, fly to the cottage of Grodern; here certain ruin awaits your stay: fly this instant, and there rest quiet until you hear further from Alwin.' Not remaining to listen to their interrogatories, the figure, after having uttered the above words, swiftly made his exit from their presence.
"Gracious Parent of the universe," exclaimed Jacquemar, "what can I have done to merit this? and who can be my enemy?"
Lost in astonishment, he hung over Dunisleda, who at length began to recover: he entreated her eagerly to declare the cause of the stranger's advice and appearance, but more, of her own exclamation and mournful situation. 'Oh my love, cause me not to waste my little strength in the explanation; let me save it, that, with your assistance, I may before it is too late, escape to the cottage of Grodern with my poor little ones! Oh, we must not delay one moment!'
At that instant entered Grodern himself, attended by his son.-"My friends," said he, "I am come with Edgar to assist you in your removal: Alwin has been at my home, and has sent me hither."
'Who is Alwin?'
"Stay not for questions-Dunisleda, lean on the arm of your husband, and on my son's; I will lead the children."
Exerting her utmost strength, Dunisleda supported as he desired, slowly walked from their dwelling, scarcely able to crawl on, although aided by the two peasants.-The shivering infants could not long creep through the snow; the old man carried the biggest in his arms, and Edgar was obliged to bear the other: thus at last, cold, faint, and weary, they arrived at the hospitable shelter. The ancient wife of Grodern carried Dunisleda to her own bed (which consisted of moss and long dried grass, which they had gathered from the sides of the forest, covered with coarse linen) and quitted the room, that she might not disturb her repose.
The astonished Jacquemar now demanded an explanation; which was only thus partially complied with by Grodern, who addressed him as follows:-"About a quarter of an hour before you saw me, Edward, one of the attendants belonging to the lady of Duke Albert, came into my cottage, and earnestly entreated me to receive you and your family this night, and to hasten and encourage your departure, for that great mischief would befall you if I refused, or even hesitated a few hours. Tell them, added he, if they delay, that Alwin sent you. Although he was disguised, I easily recognized him to be Edward; determining to give him no suspicion, after I had made this discovery, I immediately attended on you."
'Alas! I fear some treachery,' replied Jacquemar; 'the Duke is a great enemy to all the poor vassals in his territories, who have any handsome females belonging to them.-I fear for my poor Dunisleda! and I believe I shall soon be made more miserable, because I love her!'
"Ah, Jacquemar," said the old man, "the Duke is a good prince, and would be the friend of all his poor vassals, if his lady would let him: she is so bad, that I know not whether day or night has been the greatest witness of her atrocities. You must take care and conceal my knowledge of the false Alwin, and also my opinion of his mistress.
"They say those terrible ghosts in the castle are all caused by his great wickedness."
'Rather say, they appear to be in time the discovery of hers. But hush, these are not subjects for the comments of the poor and helpless. Even in my own cottage I shudder, lest being overheard I should draw her anger and vengeance down upon me.
'Perhaps in the morning my Dunisleda may be able to tell who is to be blamed.'
"We must all use our caution; the disguise of Edward calls upon us likewise to be disguised, at least in speech and manner. Under the sway of a bad master, honesty is of no avail with a poor cottager, whose virtues are as silent and solemn monitors against the great man's vices, and are received and treated as high insults would be. When the furious lady of Duke Albert aims at our destruction, subtilty alone opposed to subtilty, can save us from her malice, unless we betake ourselves to immediate flight. I have long been the marked object of her wrath."
'Alas, my friend, what could have been the cause? or how are you enabled to know it?'
"Female depravity is alone the cause of all her bitter enmity; and female worth the partial reason of my knowledge.-But stay, we are wasting time, that appears to me far too precious to be spent in idle conference. A thought strikes me:-to-morrow I will declare my story: but for this night recruit your spirits with a little sleep, and when you have refreshed yourself I will communicate the plan I have already formed."
'Ah, Grodern, my mind is too anxious for sleep: weariness is far away; but fear, wonder, and curiosity, are waking. My suspense is cruel!'
The infants had been long asleep upon the straw and rushes with which the apartment was spread; Grodern wished to follow their example, and, complaining of great fatigue, refused to satisfy the curiosity of Jacquemar; who being constrained at last by the laws of hospitality, suffered the others to enjoy that repose which he denied himself, and waited until day-break in a state of unspeakable distress and anxiety. At day-light Grodern arose from his sleep, and thus bespoke the eager eared Jacquemar:-
"My friend, our lives and liberties appear to me in danger here: I know of a temporary safeguard: the abbess of a neighbouring convent is my benefactress and unshaken friend. I lived under the same roof with her father, and shared her infant play: time severed us, but time has never obliterated from her memory the days of childhood, or from her heart the sweet ties of innocent and youthful amity. Towards her then, ere it is morning, let us all bend our footsteps, and seek the mansion of hospitality and benevolence: She will receive and protect us until we hear more, and can plan better; but before I introduce you, first promise never to enquire of me or seek to discover my method of receiving intelligence: it would injure us greatly were it discovered: you have only to rest satisfied, and you will be well. Let us awake Dunisleda, and after some refreshment is taken, we will depart to the convent."
Fortunately for the refugees, there had fallen a heavy rain in the latter part of the night, which entirely thawed the snow, so as to prevent their route being discovered by the marks of their footsteps. The scheme of Grodern soon obtained the consent of the whole party; and after a hasty meal, made on some poor cheeses, milk, and barley-cakes, they prepared to set out on their walk. "We must pass in silence through the forest," said Grodern, "lest some early spy or wily deceiver should overhear our converse, and betray our departure; and I doubt not but the emissaries of Brunchilda will be early at our cottages."
'When we have passed the forest, wherefore cannot you tell me the history of her anger, which you last night promised me? and why will it not then be safe to listen to Dunisleda?' peevishly asked the impatient Jacquemar.
Dunisleda declared she could not support the walk and the cold of the weather, if obliged to give her narration during the one, or until relieved from the other; "besides," added Grodern, "by the warm cheering fire of the hospitable convent, we may converse in safety and in comfort:-we may sit unmoved by the surrounding storm, and look back unterrified on the past."
They accordingly departed in silence; but the cold of the morning which was doubly felt when they had left the shelter of the forest, was almost too much for the enfeebled Dunisleda and her tender offspring. 'Bear up my love,' cried Jacquemar, 'the convent must be near at hand.' "Alas," replied the shivering partner of his way, "I have ventured too much: my strength is too far exhausted to suffer me to survive the shock of last night's terrors or this morning's walk!"
Poor Dunisleda had reason to complain of the severity of the weather: she felt the pangs of child-birth approaching: the fears of the preceding evening had brought them on. In pain and sorrow she dragged her suffering frame towards the convent; at six in the morning, at dim distance, they beheld its towers; scarcely would they have been perceptible had not a high hill, on whose bleak sides the snow lay yet unmelted, been at a distance behind the convent, by which the contrast of the black towers were shewn.-'Now then we are safe,' exclaimed Grodern, 'from the tyranny of Brunchilda; cheer up, cheer up, Dunisleda; see the abbey-lights!'-
"Cursed villain!" roared a voice from behind him, "you are safe; safe in my power, safe in my detection!" At that instant he received a wound from a dagger, and starting round, by the light of a dark lantern which the villain held in his hand, he perceived Conrad, a favourite with Brunchilda. Jacquemar instantly, on hearing a shriek of surprise from Grodern, and beholding the miscreant, flew on him with the rage of a tiger, and, wresting the dagger from his grasp, plunged it deep in the bosom of the assassin. He fell; and, uttering blasphemous execrations, died. Dunisleda gave a loud scream, and fainted in the arms of Edgar. She had seen Grodern bleed; and instant fear made her apprehend a numerous party was at hand.-She could not sustain it, but became insensible.
"This, this is ruin," cried Grodern, unmindful of his bleeding shoulder, which happily, however, was but slightly hurt; "we must remove the body, or we shall by that be traced. You, Edgar and Jacquemar, must assist me to convey it to the convent."
'Alas! my Dunisleda, my Dunisleda, I must attend to her,' replied the anxious Jacquemar.-Grodern now, with redoubled vexation, beheld the insensible state of the unfortunate female. "Alas!" said he, "we must convey her to the convent as we can; my son must remain and bury the body. Speed forward Edgar, and borrow such instruments as are necessary to secure Conrad's corpse in the earth, safe from observation: we must not attempt to drag it on, lest the blood should betray us."
