The lady Abbess hastened to the convent, rang the chapel-bell, when all the pious sisterhood hurried from their cells, fell upon their bare knees, chastizing themselves, and praying to heaven for mercy towards the old General. The burgomaster threw himself upon his horse, and trotted back to the town to impart the terrible news to his wife, children and domestics. Gothard, who was a courageous knight, alone remained, absorbed in gloomy reflection, leaning against the wall, with his eyes fixed on the darkness beneath. Thus he continued during two hours. At last he thought he heard on the steps, some one breathing and struggling.--"John of Mengden!" he vociferated--"are you alive, or dead?"---"I am alive!" replied the General, half breathless, as he stumbled up the steps. "Thanks to God and St. Bridget!--we have been in agony on your account. Where have you been? What have you heard or seen?" The General then related that he had quietly descended, with the consecrated taper in his hand; that his heart beat a little as he advanced; that a cold shiver had begun to seize him; but that he took courage, as his taper burnt always clear and bright: that at length he stood on the bottom step, and looked down an endless passage, doubtful whether, under the protection of St. Bridget, he should move forward or backward; that suddenly he was surrounded by a lukewarm breeze, mild and fragrant, as if wafted over a bed of flowers, which in a moment extinguished his taper, and so clouded his senses, that he sunk like a dead man on the steps, and then lay a considerable time in a sort of trance; that at last he awoke again, and it appeared to him as if he were gently moved by a warm hand, though he knew not where he was, nor what had happened to him; that he stretched out his hands, and felt nothing but the cold stone; but that, as a little daylight glimmered upon him from above, he composed his spirits, and began to creep with difficulty up the steps; that when on them he was perfectly recovered, feeling only a slight oppression in the head, similar to the effect of intoxication. "Well, brother," said he to the lord-marshal, "will not you also make the attempt, and try whether it will not succeed better with you." Gothard of Plettenberg demurred: notwithstanding he never feared, in former times, a knight of flesh and bone, as long as he was able to wield his sword; yet, with respect to ghosts, a very just exception was allowed; and a knight might tremble in the dark like an old woman, without any stain upon his honor, or impeachment of his valour. Now a days, the matter is quite altered, and a man may fear any thing but ghosts.