The Ghost-Seer; or the Apparitionist; and Sport of Destiny. Friedrich von Schiller

      “Your explanation of this matter is satisfactory,” resumed the prince, after a short silence; “but there remains a principal circumstance which I must ask you to clear up.”

      “If it be in my power, and – ”

      “No conditions! Justice, in whose hands you now are, might perhaps not interrogate you with so much delicacy. Who was this unknown at whose feet we saw you fall? What do you know of him? How did you get acquainted with him? And in what way was he connected with the appearance of the second apparition?

      “Your highness” —

      “On looking at him more attentively, you gave a loud scream, and fell at his feet. What are we to understand by that?”

      “This man, your highness” – He stopped, grew visibly perplexed, and with an embarrassed countenance looked around him. “Yes, prince, by all that is sacred, this unknown is a terrible being.”

      “What do you know of him? What connection have you with him? Do not hope to conceal the truth from us.”

      “I shall take care not to do so, – for who will warrant that he is not among us at this very moment?”

      “Where? Who?” exclaimed we altogether, half-amused, half-startled, looking about the room. “That is impossible.”

      “Oh! to this man, or whatever he may be, things still more incomprehensible are possible.”

      “But who is he? Whence comes he? Is he an Armenian or a Russian? Of the characters be assumes, which is his real one?”

      “He is nothing of what he appears to be. There are few conditions or countries of which he has not worn the mask. No person knows who he is, whence he comes, or whither he goes. That he has been for a long time in Egypt, as many pretend, and that he has brought from thence, out of a catacomb, his, occult sciences, I will neither affirm nor deny. Here we only know him by the name of the Incomprehensible. How old, for instance, do you suppose he is?”

      “To judge from his appearance he can scarcely have passed forty.”

      “And of what age do you suppose I am?”

      “Not far from fifty.”

      “Quite right; and I must tell you that I was but a boy of seventeen when my grandfather spoke to me of this marvellous man whom he had seen at Famagusta; at which time he appeared nearly of the same age as he does at present.”

      “This is exaggerated, ridiculous, and incredible.”

      “By no means. Were I not prevented by these fetters I could produce vouchers whose dignity and respectability should leave you no room for doubt. There are several credible persons who remember having seen him, each, at the same time, in different parts of the globe. No sword can wound, no poison can hurt, no fire can burn him; no vessel in which he embarks can be wrecked. Time itself seems to lose its power over him. Years do not affect his constitution, nor age whiten his hair. Never was he seen to take any food. Never did he approach a woman. No sleep closes his eyes. Of the twenty-four hours in the day there is only one which he cannot command; during which no person ever saw him, and during which he never was employed in any terrestrial occupation.”