"Edgar Allen Poe - The Works of Edgar Allan Poe Volume 4" - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)castle are positive in denying any knowledge of the horse."
"Extremely singular!" said the young Baron, with a musing air, and apparently unconscious of the meaning of his words. "He is, as you say, a remarkable horse - a prodigious horse! although, as you very justly observe, of a suspicious and untractable character, let him be mine, however," he added, after a pause, "perhaps a rider like Frederick of Metzengerstein, may tame even the devil from the stables of Berlifitzing." "You are mistaken, my lord; the horse, as I think we mentioned, is _not_ from the stables of the Count. If such had been the case, we know our duty better than to bring him into the presence of a noble of your family." "True!" observed the Baron, dryly, and at that instant a page of the bedchamber came from the palace with a heightened color, and a precipitate step. He whispered into his master's ear an account of the sudden disappearance of a small portion of the tapestry, in an apartment which he designated; entering, at the same time, into particulars of a minute and circumstantial character; but from the low tone of voice in which these latter were communicated, nothing escaped to gratify the excited curiosity of the equerries. The young Frederick, during the conference, seemed agitated by a an expression of determined malignancy settled upon his countenance, as he gave peremptory orders that a certain chamber should be immediately locked up, and the key placed in his own possession. "Have you heard of the unhappy death of the old hunter Berlifitzing?" said one of his vassals to the Baron, as, after the departure of the page, the huge steed which that nobleman had adopted as his own, plunged and curvetted, with redoubled fury, down the long avenue which extended from the chateau to the stables of Metzengerstein. "No!" said the Baron, turning abruptly toward the speaker, "dead! say you?" "It is indeed true, my lord; and, to a noble of your name, will be, I imagine, no unwelcome intelligence." A rapid smile shot over the countenance of the listener. "How died he?" "In his rash exertions to rescue a favorite portion of his hunting stud, he has himself perished miserably in the flames." "I-n-d-e-e-d-!" ejaculated the Baron, as if slowly and |
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