The Ghost-Seer; or the Apparitionist; and Sport of DestinySchiller, Friedrich
General
The Ghost-Seer; or the Apparitionist; and Sport of Destiny
Schiller, Friedrich
Ghost stories; Venice (Italy) -- Fiction
“This scene moved me strangely. It was the man that chiefly excited my
sympathy and interest. Some violent emotion seemed to struggle in his
breast; it was as if some irresistible force drew him towards her, while
an unseen arm held him back. Silent, but agonizing, was the struggle,
and beautiful the temptation. ‘No,’ I thought, ‘he attempts too much;
he will, he must yield.’
“At his silent intimation the young negro disappeared. I now expected
some touching scene--a prayer on bended knees, and a reconciliation
sealed with glowing kisses. But no! nothing of the kind occurred. The
incomprehensible being took from his pocketbook a sealed packet, and
placed it in the hands of the lady. Sadness overcast her face as she
she looked at it, and a tear bedewed her eye.
“After a short silence they separated. At this moment an elderly lady
advanced from one of the sidewalks, who had remained at a distance, and
whom I now first discovered. She and the fair girl slowly advanced
along the path, and, while they were earnestly engaged in conversation,
the stranger took the opportunity of remaining behind. With his eyes
turned towards her, he stood irresolute, at one instant making a rapid
step forward, and in the next retreating. In another moment he had
disappeared in the copse.
“The women at length look round, seem uneasy at not finding him, and
pause as if to await his coming. He comes not. Anxious glances are
cast around, and steps are redoubled. My eyes aid in searching through
the garden; he comes not, he is nowhere to be seen.
“Suddenly I see a plash in the canal, and see a gondola moving from the
shore. It is he, and I scarcely can refrain from calling to him. Now
the whole thing is clear--it was a parting.
“She appears to have a presentiment of what has happened. With a speed
that her companion cannot use she hastens to the shore. Too late!
Quick as the arrow in its flight the gondola bounds forward, and soon
nothing is visible but a white handkerchief fluttering in the air from
afar. Soon after this I saw the fair incognita and her companion cross
the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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