Not long ago I drove by there, but turned my face
away quickly and looked in the other direction, because I
believe I should otherwise have seen him sitting on the grave.
For oh, my dear mama, I have really seen him once, or it at
least seemed so, when I was sound asleep and Innstetten was
away from home visiting the Prince. It was terrible. I should
not like to experience anything like it again. I can't well
invite you to such a house, handsome as it is otherwise, for,
strange to say, it is both uncanny and cozy. Innstetten did not
do exactly the right thing about it either, if you will allow
me to say so, in spite of the fact that I finally agreed with
him in many particulars. He expected me to consider it nothing
but old wives' nonsense and laugh about it, but all of a sudden
he himself seemed to believe in it, at the very time when he
was making the queer demand of me to consider such hauntings a
mark of blue blood and old nobility. But I can't do it and I
won't, either. Kind as he is in other regards, in this
particular he is not kind and considerate enough toward me.
That there is something in it I know from Johanna and also from
Mrs. Kruse. The latter is our coachman's wife and always sits
holding a black chicken in an overheated room. This alone is
enough to scare one. Now you know why _I_ want to come when the
time arrives. Oh, if it were only time now! There are so many
reasons for this wish.
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