Кармилла
A Guest
GeneralSpielsdorfhadmentionedinhisfirstletter,sixorsevenweeksbefore,thatshewasnotsowellashewouldwishher,buttherewasnothingtosuggesttheremotestsuspicionofdanger.
"HereistheGeneral’sletter,"hesaid,handingittome."Iamafraidheisingreataffliction;theletterappearstometohavebeenwrittenverynearlyindistraction."
Wesatdownonarudebench,underagroupofmagnificentlimetrees.Thesunwassettingwithallitsmelancholysplendorbehindthesylvanhorizon,andthestreamthatflowsbesideourhome,andpassesunderthesteepoldbridgeIhavementioned,woundthroughmanyagroupofnobletrees,almostatourfeet,reflectinginitscurrentthefadingcrimsonofthesky.GeneralSpielsdorf’sletterwassoextraordinary,sovehement,andinsomeplacessoself-contradictory,thatIreadittwiceover—thesecondtimealoudtomyfather—andwasstillunabletoaccountforit,exceptbysupposingthatgriefhadunsettledhismind.
Itsaid"Ihavelostmydarlingdaughter,forassuchIlovedher.DuringthelastdaysofdearBertha’sillnessIwasnotabletowritetoyou.
"BeforethenIhadnoideaofherdanger.Ihavelosther,andnowlearnall,toolate.Shediedinthepeaceofinnocence,andintheglorioushopeofablessedfuturity.Thefiendwhobetrayedourinfatuatedhospitalityhasdoneitall.IthoughtIwasreceivingintomyhouseinnocence,gaiety,acharmingcompanionformylostBertha.
