XI. The Story

by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

"With all my heart," the General said, forcing the words out. After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, he began to share one of the most unusual stories I had ever heard.

"My dear child was eagerly anticipating the visit you so kindly arranged for her with your lovely daughter." He gave me a charming yet sorrowful bow. "In the meantime, we received an invitation from my old friend, Count Carlsfeld, whose castle is about six leagues beyond Karnstein. It was for a series of festivities he was hosting in honor of his distinguished guest, Grand Duke Charles."

"Yes, I believe they were quite splendid," my father replied.

"Absolutely princely! His hospitality is nothing short of regal. He possesses Aladdin’s lamp. The night that marked the beginning of my sorrow was dedicated to a magnificent masquerade. The grounds were opened to all, and the trees were adorned with colorful lanterns. The fireworks display was something Paris itself had never seen. And the music—oh, the music! You know how much I adore it—was simply enchanting! Perhaps the finest orchestra in the world, accompanied by the best singers gathered from all the great operas across Europe. As you strolled through those fantastically lit grounds, with the moonlit chateau casting a rosy glow from its long rows of windows, you would suddenly hear those exquisite voices drifting from the silence of a grove or rising from boats on the lake. I felt as though I had been transported back to the romance and poetry of my youth.

"When the fireworks concluded and the ball began, we returned to the elegant suite of rooms prepared for the dancers. A masked ball is a beautiful sight, but I had never seen one as dazzling as this.

"It was an incredibly aristocratic gathering. I was nearly the only 'nobody' there.

"My dear child looked stunning. She wore no mask, and her excitement and joy added an indescribable charm to her already lovely features. I noticed a young woman, dressed magnificently but masked, who seemed to be watching my ward with unusual interest. I had seen her earlier in the evening in the grand hall and again, for a few moments, walking nearby on the terrace under the castle windows, observing my dear child.

A lady, also masked, elegantly dressed and exuding a stately air, accompanied her as a chaperone.

If the young lady hadn’t been wearing a mask, I would have been much more certain whether she was truly watching my poor darling.

Now, I am convinced that she was.

"We found ourselves in one of the salons. My dear child had been dancing and was taking a moment to rest in a chair near the door while I stood nearby. The two ladies I mentioned approached, and the younger one took the seat next to my ward, while her companion stood beside me, speaking softly to her charge.

Taking advantage of her mask, she turned to me and, in the tone of an old friend, called me by name and initiated a conversation that piqued my curiosity. She referenced many occasions where we had met—at court and at various distinguished gatherings. She brought up little incidents I had long forgotten, but which sprang back to life in my memory at her mention.

My curiosity about her identity grew stronger with each passing moment. She skillfully deflected my attempts to uncover who she was, all while seeming to enjoy my eager confusion as I floundered from one guess to another.

Meanwhile, the young lady, whom her mother referred to as Millarca when she addressed her, had effortlessly struck up a conversation with my ward.

She introduced herself by saying that her mother was a very old acquaintance of mine. She spoke about the delightful audacity a mask allowed, chatted like a friend, complimented her dress, and subtly expressed admiration for her beauty. She entertained my poor child with witty observations about the people filling the ballroom and laughed at her playful comments. She was lively and charming, and before long, they had become quite good friends. The young stranger lowered her mask, revealing a remarkably beautiful face. I had never seen her before, nor had my dear child. But even though she was new to us, her features were so captivating that it was impossible not to feel drawn to her. My poor girl certainly did. I had never seen anyone so taken with another at first sight, unless it was the stranger herself, who seemed utterly enchanted by her.

As I took advantage of the masquerade atmosphere, I couldn’t help but ask the older woman a few questions.

“You’ve completely baffled me,” I said with a laugh. “Isn’t that enough? Would you consider taking off your mask so we can speak as equals?”

“Isn’t that a rather unreasonable request?” she replied. “You’re asking a lady to give up an advantage! Besides, how do you know you’d even recognize me? Time changes everything.”

“True enough,” I said, bowing slightly and giving a wistful little laugh.

“As philosophers say,” she continued, “how can you be sure that seeing my face would help you?”

“I’ll take my chances on that,” I replied. “It’s pointless to pretend you’re an old woman; your figure gives you away.”

“Still, it’s been years since I last saw you—or rather, since you last saw me. Millarca over there is my daughter, so I can’t possibly be young, even in the eyes of those who have learned to be forgiving with age. I wouldn’t want to be compared to the person you remember. You have no mask to remove; you can’t offer me anything in return.”

“My request is for your compassion—to take it off,” I said.

“And mine is for you to let it stay,” she countered.

“Well then, at least tell me if you’re French or German; you speak both languages so well.”

“I don’t think I’ll reveal that, General; you seem to have a plan and are plotting your approach.”

“Regardless, you can’t deny that since I’m honored to be allowed to speak with you, I should know how to address you. Should I call you Madame la Comtesse?”

She laughed, and I suspected she would have evaded the question again—if I could even consider any part of this carefully orchestrated encounter as subject to chance.

“As for that,” she began, but was interrupted almost immediately by a gentleman in black. He looked particularly elegant and distinguished, though his face was the most deathly pale I had ever seen. He wasn’t in costume, just dressed in the plain evening attire of a gentleman, and he spoke without a smile, bowing deeply.

“May I have a moment of Madame la Comtesse’s time to share a few words that might interest her?”

The lady turned to him quickly, placing a finger to her lips to signal silence. Then she said to me, “Hold my place, General; I’ll be back after I’ve spoken with him.”

With that playful command, she stepped aside with the gentleman in black, engaging in what appeared to be a serious conversation for several minutes. They then drifted away into the crowd, and I lost sight of them for a while.

During that time, I racked my brain trying to figure out who this woman was, who seemed to remember me so fondly. I considered turning to join my pretty ward and the Countess’s daughter, hoping that by the time the lady returned, I could surprise her with all the details of her name, title, chateau, and estates at my fingertips. Just then, she reappeared, accompanied by the pale man in black, who said:

“I’ll return to inform Madame la Comtesse when her carriage is ready.”

He bowed and stepped away.