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You have a very striking face and figure, and you have not changed in the least. Besides, the moment was that in which she experienced an awful shock. Such things are sometimes photographed on the mind." "Has she never recognized you in any way?" I asked. "Never since that day at Weissenstein. There is just a faint possibility that when she sees us together she may recall that catastrophe.
In language which was impassioned without being extravagant, he mingled sarcasm and retort, statement and argument, with a strenuous force that would have bewildered the royal "de Weissenstein." To this day one cannot read these stinging paragraphs without a feeling of disappointment that de Vergennes would not let them reach their destination.
At Latzenberg, near Weissenstein in Carniola, there is another ice-cave, described by Rosenmüller. It is entered by a long dark passage in which are pillars of ice arranged like the pipes of an organ, varying from the thickness of a man's body to the size of a straw. All these are said to melt in winter.
I can only compare the scene which now met my eyes, to a sudden view of the range of the Oberland Alps, when the spectator is unexpectedly placed on the verge of the precipice of the Weissenstein.
Above, the hill is crowned by the ruins of the ancient castle of Weissenstein, the castle of Bellrem, the crusader, who fell from the lofty ramparts on a moonlight night in the twelfth century, terrified by the ghost of a woman he had loved and wronged. At least, the legend says so, and as the ruined ramparts are still there it is probably all quite true.
The path led under the walls of the old Castle of Weissenstein, and then in steep curves up the cliff which blocks the head of the valley, and along a cut in the face of the rock, into the steep, narrow Tauernthal, which divides the Glockner group from the Venediger. How entirely different it was from the region of the Dolomites!
Early on the next morning Paul was on his way to Munich, Vienna, and the East again, and on the afternoon of the same day Professor Cutter and Madame Patoff, with two servants, got into a spacious carriage, in which they had determined to drive as far as Weissenstein, the last village of the Black Forest before reaching Pforzheim.
Then he settled himself in his chair, and told me his story very much as I have told it, from the afternoon of the day on which Alexander disappeared to the moment when Paul left his mother at Teinach in the Black Forest. He told me also how Professor Cutter had written to him his account of the accident at Weissenstein, when Madame Patoff, as he said, had attempted to commit suicide.
It is impossible to imagine anything more monotonous in color than this boundless forest of greenish-black trees, and it is perhaps for this reason that the ruins of the many old fortresses, which once commanded every eminence from Weissenstein to the Boden-See, are seen to such singular advantage.
At the same time we do not think that she remembers what she reads. I wish we could find out. She acts like a person who has had an injury to some part of the head which has not affected the rest. But then, she never received any injury, to my knowledge." "Not even when she fell at Weissenstein?" "Not the least. I made a careful examination."
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