"It chanced, one November day, that the baron had been hunting in the
forest, and did not reach home till night-fall. There were no guests with
him, for, as I hinted to you before, the castle of Arnheim seldom received
any other than those from whom its inhabitants hoped to gain augmentation
of knowledge. The baron was seated alone in his hall, illuminated with
cressets and torches. His one hand held a volume covered with characters
unintelligible to all save himself. The other rested on the marble table,
on which was placed a flask of Tokay wine. A page stood in respectful
attendance near the bottom of the large and dim apartment, and no sound
was heard save that of the night wind, when it sighed mournfully through
the rusty coats of mail, and waved the tattered banners which were the
tapestry of the feudal hall. At once the footstep of a person was heard
ascending the stairs in haste and trepidation; the door of the hall was
thrown violently open, and, terrified to a degree of ecstasy, Caspar, the
head of the baron's stable, or his master of horse, stumbled up almost to
the foot of the table at which his lord was seated, with the exclamation
in his mouth--'My lord, my lord, a fiend is in the stable!' 'What means
this folly?' said the baron, arising, surprised and displeased at an
interruption so unusual. 'Let me endure your displeasure,' said Caspar,
'if I speak not truth! Apollyon--' Here he paused. 'Speak out, thou
frightened fool,' said the baron; 'is my horse sick, or injured?' The
master of the stalls again gasped forth the word 'Apollyon!' 'Say on,'
said the baron; 'were Apollyon in presence personally, it were nothing to
shake a brave man's mind.' 'The devil,' answered the master of the horse,
'is in Apollyon's stall!' 'Fool!' exclaimed the nobleman, snatching a
torch from the wall; 'what is it that could have turned thy brain in such
silly fashion?'

"As he spoke, he crossed the courtyard of the castle, to visit the stately
range of stables, where fifty gallant steeds stood in rows, on each side