The space
      passed over in a single leap had been accurately measured, and
      was found to exceed, by an astounding difference, the wildest
      expectations of the most imaginative. The Baron, besides, had no
      particular _name_ for the animal, although all the rest in his
      collection were distinguished by characteristic appellations. His
      stable, too, was appointed at a distance from the rest; and with
      regard to grooming and other necessary offices, none but the
      owner in person had ventured to officiate, or even to enter the
      enclosure of that particular stall. It was also to be observed,
      that although the three grooms, who had caught the steed as he
      fled from the conflagration at Berlifitzing, had succeeded in
      arresting his course, by means of a chain-bridle and noose—yet no
      one of the three could with any certainty affirm that he had,
      during that dangerous struggle, or at any period thereafter,
      actually placed his hand upon the body of the beast. Instances of
      peculiar intelligence in the demeanor of a noble and
      high-spirited horse are not to be supposed capable of exciting
      unreasonable attention—especially among men who, daily trained to
      the labors of the chase, might appear well acquainted with the
      sagacity of a horse—but there were certain circumstances which
      intruded themselves per force upon the most skeptical and
      phlegmatic; and it is said there were times when the animal
      caused the gaping crowd who stood around to recoil in horror from
      the deep and impressive meaning of his terrible stamp—times when
      the young Metzengerstein turned pale and shrunk away from the
      rapid and searching expression of his earnest and human-looking
      eye. Among all the retinue of the Baron, however, none were found to
      doubt the ardor of that extraordinary affection which existed on
      the part of the young nobleman for the fiery qualities of his
      horse; at least, none but an insignificant and misshapen little
      page, whose deformities were in everybody’s way, and whose
      opinions were of the least possible importance. He—if his ideas
      are worth mentioning at all—had the effrontery to assert that his
      master never vaulted into the saddle without an unaccountable and
      almost imperceptible shudder, and that, upon his return from
      every long-continued and habitual ride, an expression of
      triumphant malignity distorted every muscle in his countenance. One tempestuous night, Metzengerstein, awaking from a heavy
      slumber, descended like a maniac from his chamber, and, mounting
      in hot haste, bounded away into the mazes of the forest. An
      occurrence so common attracted no particular attention, but his
      return was looked for with intense anxiety on the part of his
      domestics, when, after some hours’ absence, the stupendous and
      magnificent battlements of the Chateau Metzengerstein, were
      discovered crackling and rocking to their very foundation, under
      the influence of a dense and livid mass of ungovernable fire. As the flames, when first seen, had already made so terrible a
      progress that all efforts to save any portion of the building
      were evidently futile, the astonished neighborhood stood idly
      around in silent and pathetic wonder. But a new and fearful
      object soon rivetted the attention of the multitude, and proved
      how much more intense is the excitement wrought in the feelings
      of a crowd by the contemplation of human agony, than that brought
      about by the most appalling spectacles of inanimate matter. Up the long avenue of aged oaks which led from the forest to the
      main entrance of the Château Metzengerstein, a steed, bearing an
      unbonneted and disordered rider, was seen leaping with an
      impetuosity which outstripped the very Demon of the Tempest. The career of the horseman was indisputably, on his own part,
      uncontrollable. The agony of his countenance, the convulsive
      struggle of his frame, gave evidence of superhuman exertion: but
      no sound, save a solitary shriek, escaped from his lacerated
      lips, which were bitten through and through in the intensity of
      terror. One instant, and the clattering of hoofs resounded
      sharply and shrilly above the roaring of the flames and the
      shrieking of the winds—another, and, clearing at a single plunge
      the gate-way and the moat, the steed bounded far up the tottering
      staircases of the palace, and, with its rider, disappeared amid
      the whirlwind of chaotic fire. The fury of the tempest immediately died away, and a dead calm
      sullenly succeeded. A white flame still enveloped the building
      like a shroud, and, streaming far away into the quiet atmosphere,
      shot forth a glare of preternatural light; while a cloud of smoke
      settled heavily over the battlements in the distinct colossal
      figure of—_a horse_. THE SYSTEM OF DOCTOR TARR AND PROFESSOR FETHER


      During the autumn of 18—, while on a tour through the extreme
      southern provinces of France, my route led me within a few miles
      of a certain _Maison de Santé_ or private mad-house, about which
      I had heard much, in Paris, from my medical friends. As I had
      never visited a place of the kind, I thought the opportunity too
      good to be lost; and so proposed to my travelling companion (a
      gentleman with whom I had made casual acquaintance a few days
      before), that we should turn aside, for an hour or so, and look
      through the establishment. To this he objected—pleading haste in
      the first place, and, in the second, a very usual horror at the
      sight of a lunatic. He begged me, however, not to let any mere
      courtesy towards himself interfere with the gratification of my
      curiosity, and said that he would ride on leisurely, so that I
      might overtake him during the day, or, at all events, during the
      next. As he bade me good-bye, I bethought me that there might be
      some difficulty in obtaining access to the premises, and
      mentioned my fears on this point. He replied that, in fact,
      unless I had personal knowledge of the superintendent, Monsieur
      Maillard, or some credential in the way of a letter, a difficulty
      might be found to exist, as the regulations of these private
      mad-houses were more rigid than the public hospital laws. For
      himself, he added, he had, some years since, made the
      acquaintance of Maillard, and would so far assist me as to ride
      up to the door and introduce me; although his feelings on the
      subject of lunacy would not permit of his entering the house.