“I think that he will hardly fail me,” muttered he. “No, he has too much at stake to abandon this enterprise. How still the night is! Strange, that he comes not, and yet the hour approaches rapidly. All is prosperous thus far. O, star of my destiny, triumph in this hour, which is doomed to complete the anxious toil of years! Rejoice in the anticipated majesty of high dominion! But why do I feel so sad? What small voice is that, which whispers me to desist from my undertaking? Repentance—repentance! My spirit is too dark, and I could not, if I would, repent. How quickly my heart beats as the time speeds on! Yet one more victim! Why, I shall be a king? that word is too weak, to express the glorious extent of wisdom and power which I shall enjoy. But happiness—no, no!—that feeling I shall never more experience! These thoughts—the recollection of past crime. Why should I think of crime, who am beyond the hope of salvation? Ha! he comes! ’Twas but the plash of an otter. No! he is here!” “Rudenfranck, is it thou?” said Adolf, “lend me thy hand. So. I have met with strange warnings in my path toward thee. I fear to go on. Can nothing be devised save this dread trial?” “I have already told thee, nothing. Come up. The air is damp, and my fire burns brightly. Have you procured that which I desired of thee?” “I have it; but, Rudenfranck, sacrilege was the price of it.” “Never regard the price, so as thou hast it. This is right,” said the hunter, as he received the consecrated wafer. “Help me to build this pile, which must be raised before we commence our solemn work.” Adolf assisted Rudenfranck to build a small pile of stones, upon which were deposited the box containing the pentagon, the consecrated wafer, and a small cruse, in which was a dark red liquid. Rudenfranck also placed a brazier on the pile, into which he deposited some slips of parchment, inscribed with talismanic characters. As they finished their task, the moon cast a straight and gigantic shadow across the Wolf Hills, and the pines seemed to dilate, in the white glare, to an unearthly size. “It is the hour,” said Rudenfranck. “Be firm. Shrink not; and expect the full reward of thy bravery. Help me to don these vestments.” He threw across his shoulders a furred robe, which he bound tightly round his body with a broad, red girdle. He then placed on his head a conical cap, and taking in his hand a sword, inscribed with characters, and without a guard, he described on the earth, the form of a pentagon, the centre of the figure being occupied by the altar stones, at the side of which Rudenfranck placed his companion. “Lay thine hand on the altar,” said Rudenfranck, “and pour from this cruse into the brazier, the liquid which it contains. Stay not to look around thee, but feed the fire steadily, while I perform our magic ceremonies.”