The wretched and abandoned Adolf followed the instructions of Rudenfranck. He raised his rifle, took deliberate aim at the holy emblem, and fired. A demoniac shout rang through the cave. The angles of the pentagon shot forth vivid lightnings. The skeleton guardians of the gate threw down their weapons, while red light flamed from their eyeless skulls. The massive leaves of the gate flew wide open, and displayed an immense vault, filled with huge vases of gold and jewels, which shone with ineffable brilliance. The arched and fretted roof was sustained by bronze pillars, representing strange and hideous animals, contorted into the most grotesque attitudes. Thousands of gnomes, swarmed through the vault, of misshapen forms, whose fierce and raging eyes dwelt upon the hunters, with anger and contempt. Thrice did Rudenfranck, bowing himself to the earth, call upon the name of Bructorix. Thrice hollow thunder pealed throughout the cavern, and, at the third appeal, a gigantic figure rose slowly through the earth, and stood before them. The figure was enveloped in an imperial robe of purple, embroidered with jewels, precious beyond description. A girdle of living fire encircled his waist, and a crown of various and brilliant gems bound his white and flowing locks. In his hand he carried an ivory sceptre. His countenance, scathed by flames, looked like that of some ghastly denizen of the tomb, newly raised to-day; and its expression was lofty, haughty and commanding. “Who calls upon the name of Bructorix?” asked the spectre, in a sepulchral voice. “The seeker of his power, mighty spirit,” answered Rudenfranck. “I bring to thee the promised victim, and expect the reward of my services. Once more prolong the date of my life, and execute those promises made me; when by mighty spells, I had raised thee from the abode of the dead, in Germany. That term expired, I bring unto thee another soul, or else resign my own.” “Would this youth enjoy my treasures,” asked the phantom, “and knows he the nature of the obligation I demand of him?” “He asks wealth of thee, and, in return, will accede to thy demands.” “Let him sign the deed, which gives over to my master his soul and body, and his wishes shall be gratified.” Rudenfranck drew from his breast a parchment scroll, and the infatuated Adolf, with his own blood, subscribed to his eternal ruin. “Take of my treasures,” said the sceptre, “what thou would’st have, and use it as thou wilt. In exchange for the gift of thy soul, contained in this writing, thou shalt have full access to my treasure. But, mark me. Seven years are granted unto thee, at the close of which time, thou must return, and pay thy homage to the lord of these realms.” “And myself?” asked Rudenfranck, “shall I not reap the harvest for which I have labored? Recollect thy promises made me in Germany.”