The Nosferatu Scroll Read Free

like the torchbearers before them. Once his duty was done, Řezník stepped down from the pulpit to supervise the actual burial.
    It might have been expected that, as a Schwarzenberg, the princess would be laid to rest in the family vault, in St. Augustine’s church in Vienna, but Eleonora had been denied that privilege. Instead, Řezník led the way into asmall side chapel where a large section of the flagstone floor had already been removed and a deep grave dug, a grave that had been lined with a clay-based concrete. The six monks lowered the casket to the floor, where three substantial ropes had been placed in readiness. Then they each seized the end of one of the ropes and lifted the coffin off the floor, moving awkwardly in the confined space around the grave, and maneuvered the casket over the hole. Slowly they lowered the coffin into the waiting void.
    Řezník murmured a few last prayers, and then ordered the handful of official mourners out of the church. The final rituals were to be witnessed by as small a number of people as possible.
    Řezník stepped to one side of the chapel and picked up a crudely fashioned wooden ladder, which he carried over to the side of the grave and then lowered into it. He gestured to the monks, who silently descended into the pit. Řezník held a torch over the void so they could see what they were doing. Stacked along both sides of the grave were a number of heavy flat stones. Working under the priest’s direction, the monks picked these up, two men to each stone, and placed them carefully on the flat top of the black wooden coffin, in a double layer.
    Řezník inspected their work carefully from the top of the grave, and ordered them to climb out again. Their next task required all the considerable strength the monks possessed. Řezník had already arranged for a rough wooden arch fitted with a heavy-duty pulley to be positionedinside the chapel to allow a single heavy slab to be laid across the top of the open grave to seal it completely. Even with this mechanical device to assist them, it still took almost half an hour before the slab was positioned to Řezník’s satisfaction and, despite the cool evening air, the sweat was pouring off the faces of the six men.
    But still they weren’t finished. Řezník permitted them a short break to recover their strength, then supervised the disassembly of the wooden arch, the component pieces of which they stacked against the sidewall of the chapel. Once that had been completed, he instructed them to drag three heavy sacks containing soil, taken from the cemetery outside the church, across to the slab that now covered the tomb. They upended the sacks and spread the contents into a single even layer over the slab.
    Now, finally, the monks’ work was almost over. They replaced the flagstones that had been removed to allow the hole to be dug, but left enough space directly over the grave for the gravestone itself, a slab that Řezník had had prepared by a stonemason in the village the previous day. Two of the monks picked up the stone and lowered it carefully into position.
    Řezník stepped to the end of the gravestone and lowered his head in prayer for the last time, the six monks who had assisted him kneeling on the flagstone floor beside the tomb.
    Moonlight speared in through one of the chapel’s side windows and the beam played silently across the freshlycut and very simple inscription in the stone. The words made no mention of Eleonora Amalia’s family name or her aristocratic status. It didn’t even include the Schwarzenberg coat of arms. On the specific instructions of Řezník, who had himself simply been following the orders he had been given by the men who had prepared the parchment, the inscription simply listed the first name of the princess, and the date of her death:
    Hier liegt die arme Sünderin Eleonora bittet für sie. Obut die 5 Mai A1741.
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    With the body of Eleonora now safely consigned to the earth,