least possible importance. He - if his ideas are worth mentioning at
all - had the effrontery to assert that his master never vaulted into
the saddle without an unaccountable and almost imperceptible shudder,
and that, upon his return from every long-continued and habitual
ride, an expression of triumphant malignity distorted every muscle in
his countenance.

One tempestuous night, Metzengerstein, awaking from a heavy
slumber, descended like a maniac from his chamber, and, mounting in
hot haste, bounded away into the mazes of the forest. An occurrence
so common attracted no particular attention, but his return was
looked for with intense anxiety on the part of his domestics, when,
after some hours' absence, the stupendous and magnificent battlements
of the Chateau Metzengerstein, were discovered crackling and rocking
to their very foundation, under the influence of a dense and livid
mass of ungovernable fire.

As the flames, when first seen, had already made so terrible a
progress that all efforts to save any portion of the building were
evidently futile, the astonished neighborhood stood idly around in
silent and pathetic wonder. But a new and fearful object soon
rivetted the attention of the multitude, and proved how much more
intense is the excitement wrought in the feelings of a crowd by the
contemplation of human agony, than that brought about by the most
appalling spectacles of inanimate matter.

Up the long avenue of aged oaks which led from the forest to the
main entrance of the Chateau Metzengerstein, a steed, bearing an
unbonneted and disordered rider, was seen leaping with an impetuosity
which outstripped the very Demon of the Tempest.