272 The Durrenstein. [Serr. 
window with roars of merriment. As the tale spread, the neighbouring 
nobles came in to enjoy their share of the amusement, and in our dis- 
mantled condition we were thus compelled to run the gauntlet of 
laughing condolence and burlesque compliment on our sagacity, from 
fair ladies and magnificent lords, who had seen us flourishing away 
among the circles of Vienna. 
A year after, as I was on a mission to inspect the fortresses along our 
Rhenish boundary, I was struck with a familiar face among the prisoners 
working at Ehrenbreitstein. _The fellow turned away ; but I had marked 
my man, and on the bell’s tolling for the close of their work, I accosted 
my old acquaintance, the Herr Michael Squeezegelt. 
He had one surviving virtue, candour in great abundance, and when I 
had satisfied him that his story should not diminish his rations nor 
increase his chains, he was willing to let me have every secret of his 
soul. I, however, confined my curiosity to the “ Red Woman,” and her 
victim. 
« That fellow,” said the Herr, “ was the cause of my ruin. He and 
I became acquainted in the course of the war, in which he had deserted 
from the Archduke’s army the night before he was to be hanged as a 
French spy, and deserted from Napoleon’s army the night before he was 
to be hanged as an Austrain one. He was a clever knave, however, and 
as trade was low at the Gasthaus, I found him now -and then useful to 
bring it up by a little smuggling, a little gambling, and, I am afraid, by a 
little tax-gathering among the gentlemen who came to see the beauties of 
the country.” 
« But the Red Woman, the lights, the procession on the walls and 
ceiling—what were these? juggling?” 
«My comrade had been twenty things after his escape from the 
gallows, for it is hard, in these times, for a man with but one trade to 
live. Among his talents was firework-making, and he could do what he 
pleased with figures and lights of all kinds. His equal never sent up a 
rocket from the Prater. I had overheard you, some days before, asking 
questions about the Durrenstein and the odd lights that every ploughman 
in Lower Austria is ready to swear to. I had laid a little plan to raise a 
trifle on you myself out of the story. But the coming of the whole 
party in the storm, made me give up my own idea for Signior Ignatio 
Trombone, which was to take in the entire company. His appearances 
and disappearances on the mountain, his sudden illness, for which he 
painted his face as it was lying on the table, and a couple of bottles of 
my best prepared claret put in the place of yours, when the palate could 
not have distinguished brandy from beer, put you all in the proper state. 
His recommendation that no one who was afraid should go to bed, 
would, he knew, only make gentlemen, particularly when heated by 
wine, the surer to defy the consequences ; and, at all events, he knew 
that his opium would do its business. The signior played the Red 
Woman in person, and startled as he was by finding you broad awake, 
he contrived to go through the affair in a tolerably complete style.” 
The fellow could not help laughing at the feat, and I own that L 
could not help joining him. 
« But you ran away and left your trade to shift for itself?” said I. 
«It had done that long before,” was the answer. “I was on the 
point of running away the week you came to the house, but you paid 
handsomely, and I waited for something to turn up worth making a 
