Carmilla (A2 level) E-Book

Sheridan Le Fanu

• Herausgeber: Imaginaria Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 86

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Laura feels lonely in her castle, where no other young people live, so she is very happy when she meets Carmilla, a beautiful and lovely girl who is going to stay with her for some weeks. But soon her happiness is mixed with worry for three reasons: Carmilla says and does strange things, young ladies in the village are dying and Laura herself is slowly becoming ill. She begins to wonder: could there be a connection between the three? VOCABULARY INCLUDED

Leseprobe

Sheridan Le Fanu

Carmilla (A2)

Adapted byCristina Roldán Sendra

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© Adaptation: Cristina Roldán Sendra

© Cover: Lily Vainylla (@lilyvainyllart)

© Imaginaria Books, S.L. 2025

ISBN: 979-13-87722-23-4

Calle Pascual y Genís, 1046002 - Valencia, Spain

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www.imaginariabooks.com

I

AN EARLY SCARE

In Styria, we live in a castle. We are not rich, but here you do not need much money to buy one. My father is English and I have an English name, but I have never seen England. My dad retired from the Austrian military and with his pension’s money he bought our great castle. However, we are very lonely1 here. We are in the middle of a small hill in a very large forest. The castle is very big, with a river that goes around it and which can only be crossed through a bridge. The dark building has many windows and some old towers. The closest village is seven miles to the left and the closest castle is almost twenty miles to the right, where old General Spielsdorf lives. Actually, there is another village closer to our home, but no people live in it. The whole town is in ruins, including the castle of the Karnstein family. That noble family is now extinct and their tombs2 can be found in the village’s abandoned church. The story behind the ruins I will tell you another time.

Now I must tell you that we were only four people living in our castle, not including the servants3. It was just my father and I and two governesses4. My father was the kindest man on earth, but growing old, and I was only nineteen at the time of my story, eight years ago. My mother, a Styrian lady, died when I was a baby, but since then Madame Perrodon had always looked after me. Her sweet and round face appears in all my early memories. The fourth member was Mademoiselle De Lafontaine, my teacher. My governesses did not have much control over me and my father let me do almost everything I wanted. Mademoiselle De Lafontaine spoke French and German, Madame Perrodon spoke French and broken English and my father and I also spoke some English every day, so we would not forget the language of my dad’s beloved nation. The result was a Babel, at which strangers laughed, and which I will not try to reproduce in this narrative. Sometimes we also had visits from far away “neighbours”, but my life was still lonely.

One of the first events in my life that I can remember still scare me today. I will tell you what happened one night in my bedroom when I was only six years old. I woke up in my bed and it was very dark. I was alone in the room, there were no governesses, no nurses, no servants. I was not afraid, I was one of those happy children who had never heard ghost5 stories. I felt sad and angry that everyone had left me alone. so I began to cry when, suddenly, I saw a serious but very pretty young lady looking at me from the side of my bed. I looked at her with pleased wonder and stopped crying. She laid down in my bed, softly touched6 my face and hugged me. With her lovely arms around me, I happily fell asleep again. I woke up when I suddenly felt as if two needles7 pierced8 my chest9 very deep at the same time. I cried loudly and the pretty lady stood up and went under my bed, or so I thought. I was now for the first time frightened and screamed10 as loud as I could. Governesses, nurses, servants, everyone came running in and tried to calm me down after hearing my story. They told me that it was just a nightmare11, but I could see how worried and scared they were. With pale faces they looked under the bed and everywhere in the room. They opened wardrobes and cupboards and I heard someone say: “Touch that part of the bed, it is still warm, someone laid there.” They also examined my chest, where I had felt the needles, but they told me there was no sign of it. From that night and until I was fourteen years old, a servant always stayed in the room with me at night.

The next morning I was in a state of terror and I did not want to be left alone for a moment. My father came to see me. He talked happily, asked lots of questions and laughed at the answers. He kissed me and told me not to be scared of a silly12 dream. But I could not relax because I knew the visit of the strange woman had been real. I was nervous for a long time after this. My father also invited a doctor, who was old and very pale. For weeks, every two days, he came to the castle and gave me medicine, which of course I hated. Another old man also came to the castle that morning. He was dressed in black and spoke very kindly to me. His face was sweet and friendly, and he told me we were all going to pray. We joined our hands together and, while everyone was praying, he told me to say: “Lord hear all good prayers for us.” I know these were the exact words because I often repeated them to myself and my governess made me say them for years before going to bed. I remember that old man, who stayed praying for a long time, very well. Although13 I have forgotten almost everything that happened afterwards, I remember that day and the horrible feelings perfectly.

II

A GUEST

I am now going to tell you something so strange that you will not believe me, but you have to, because it is true. I saw and lived it myself.

It was a sweet summer evening, and my father asked me, as he sometimes did, to take a little walk with him along the beautiful forest that stood in front of the castle.

“General Spielsdorf cannot come visit us as soon as I had hoped,” said my father.

We were waiting for him to arrive the next day and stay in the castle for some weeks along with his niece14, Mademoiselle Rheinfeldt. I had never seen her, but I had heard she was around my age and very nice and pretty, so I was very happy thinking she was coming to visit.

“And when will he come?” I asked.

“Not until autumn. Not for two months more.”

You cannot imagine how sad I was. I felt very lonely and I had been waiting for her visit for weeks.

“And I am very glad now, dear, that you never knew Mademoiselle Rheinfeldt.”

“And why?” I asked, both worried and curious.

“Because the poor young lady is dead,” he answered.

I could not believe it. She was dead! General Spielsdorf had wrote in his first letter, six or seven weeks before, that she was not feeling very well, but he said nothing of her illness being dangerous.

“Here is the General’s letter,” my father said, giving it to me. “I think he is extremely sad. The letter is quite strange.”

The letter was beautiful but, even after reading it a second time, I still could not understand it. I thought the General was so sad he had gone crazy. The letter said: “I have lost my niece, whom I loved as if she was my own daughter. During the last days of dear Bertha’s illness I was not able to write to you. Before then, I had no idea of her danger. Now, I have discovered everything, but it is too late. A monster played us. I thought I was welcoming into my house a lovely friend for my Bertha. How stupid I have been! I am glad my child died without knowing a thing, but now I will not stop until I find the monster and kill it. I do not have much information now, but I know where to look for it. In two months, or earlier if I live, I will see you–if you allow me–and I will tell you everything I cannot write upon paper now. Goodbye. Pray for me, dear friend.”

Although I had never seen Bertha Rheinfeldt, I started crying. I was confused and heartbroken. It was almost night when I returned the letter to my father, so we started walking back to the castle. It was a soft clear evening and we discussed the possible meanings of the General’s words while we walked. When we arrived, we found Madame Perrodon and Mademoiselle De Lafontaine on the bridge, talking and looking at the moon. We joined them. I looked at the sky, the dark forest, the long road, the old castle, the river. Everything was covered in a thin fog, which made the fields look soft and sweet. Although we were sad, we stood in silence and enjoyed the foggy view.

Madame Perrodon was fat, middle-aged, and very romantic. Mademoiselle De Lafontaine was psychological and kind of mystic. She was telling Madame Perrodon that such moonlight as there was that day meant that a special spiritual activity was happening. She said that it also acted on dreams and on nervous or crazy people. Mademoiselle told the story of his cousin, who had fallen asleep on a ship under such moonlight and had dreamt of an old woman hitting his face. When he woke up his face was deformed and stayed like that forever.

“The moon, this night,” she said, “is full of spiritual energy–and see, when you look behind you at the front of the castle, you can see the moonlight on all its windows, as if invisible hands had lighted up the rooms to welcome magic guests.”

I was listening to the ladies’ talk and looking at the moon, when my father said: “I am feeling quite sad and nervous. I feel as if something terrible were going to happen to us. I suppose the poor General’s letter has something to do with it.”

At this moment, we suddenly heard the sound of wheels and horses. Soon, we were able to see an expensive-looking carriage15