pushed open a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself
all at once in a strange new land; the gray light, coming in
through a range of tall, narrow windows, fell upon a row of
silent, motionless figures carven in stone, knights and ladies
in strange armor and dress; each lying upon his or her stony
couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed, motionless,
stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.
There lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had
died since the ancient castle had been built.

It was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long
since fallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.

At another time he clambered up into the loft under the high
peaked roof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with
the dim dust of years. There a flock of pigeons had made their
roost, and flapped noisily out into the sunlight when he pushed
open the door from below. Here he hunted among the mouldering
things of the past until, oh, joy of joys! in an ancient oaken
chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten books, that had
belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone by.
They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father
Abbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint
painted pictures of the blessed saints and angels.

Again, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had
found the door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for
old Hilda, Schwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some
business or other.