The Severed Hand: From "German Tales" Published by the American Publishers' CorporationHauff, Wilhelm
Science
The Severed Hand: From "German Tales" Published by the American Publishers' Corporation
Hauff, Wilhelm
Fiction; Short stories
I resolved upon remaining in this town for some time, partly because I
liked it so well, partly also because I wished to recruit myself from
the exertions of my travels. I hired a vaulted shop, in that part of the
town called Sta. Croce, and not far from this a couple of nice rooms
at an inn, leading out upon a balcony. I immediately had my bills
circulated, which announced me to be both physician and merchant.
Scarcely had I opened my shop when I was besieged by buyers, and in
spite of my high prices I sold more than any one else, because I was
obliging and friendly towards my customers. Thus I had already lived
four days happily in Florence, when one evening, as I was about to close
my vaulted room, and on examining once more the contents of my ointment
boxes, as I was in the habit of doing, I found in one of the small boxes
a piece of paper, which I did not remember to have put into it.
I unfolded the paper, and found in it an invitation to be on the bridge
which is called Ponto Vecchio that night exactly at midnight. I was
thinking for a long time as to who it might be who had invited me there;
and not knowing a single soul in Florence, I thought perhaps I should
be secretly conducted to a patient, a thing which had already often
occurred. I therefore determined to proceed thither, but took care to
gird on the sword which my father had once presented to me. When it was
close upon midnight I set out on my journey, and soon reached the
Ponte Vecchio. I found the bridge deserted, and determined to await the
appearance of him who called me. It was a cold night; the moon shone
brightly, and I looked down upon the waves of the Arno, which sparkled
far away in the moonlight. It was now striking twelve o'clock from all
the churches of the city, when I looked up and saw a tall man standing
before me completely covered in a scarlet cloak, one end of which hid
his face.
At first I was somewhat frightened, because he had made his appearance
so suddenly; but was however myself again shortly afterwards, and said:
"If it is you who have ordered me here, say what you want?" The man
dressed in scarlet turned round and said in an undertone:
"Follow!" At this, however, I felt a little timid to go alone with this
stranger. I stood still and said: "Not so, sir, kindly first tell me
where; you might also let me see your countenance a little, in order
to convince me that you wish me no harm." The red one, however, did not
seem to pay any attention to this. "If thou art unwilling, Zaleukos,
remain," he replied, and continued his way. I grew angry. "Do you
think," I exclaimed, "a man like myself allows himself to be made a fool
of, and to have waited on this cold night for nothing?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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