left hand and the crayon in her right, sat behind there. He pressed, according to the prescription, the ring on the left middle finger; the form stood up, with the rolling of an inward machinery, stepped out into the apartment, stopped at the opposite wall, drew a line down thereon with the crayon in its hand. He drew up the border of the wall-hanging; the perspective-glass and the waxen impression of the coffin-key lay in a compartment behind there. Now he pressed the ring-finger; the figure set the crayon upon the souvenir, and wrote, "Son, go into the princely vault in the Blumenbühl church, and open the coffin of the Princess Eleonore, and thou wilt find the black slab." When that was done (the Knight had told Albano), if the marble slab, nevertheless, was not found in the coffin, then he must press the third ring on the little finger, whereupon something would appear which he himself did not foreknow. Schoppe tried the pressure of this finger before going into the Blumenbühl Church,--the figure remained standing,--but something began to roll inside,--the arms stretched themselves out and fell down,--wheels rolled out,--at last the whole form dismembered itself by a mechanical suicide, and there appeared an old head of wax. Here Schoppe went off, to run to Blumenbühl and fetch out of the vault the light required for this night-piece. Though it was noonday, church and vault were left open,--perhaps because they were making room for the new cavern-guest who was just dying. Without stopping to transform the waxen key into an iron one, he violently broke open the coffin with an iron tool, and quickly snatched out the marble slab and Albano's portrait. He broke the slab behind a bush. When he read the superscription, he examined no farther; he hastened to Albano's house to deliver all. But the two were simultaneously seeking each other in vain. Meanwhile he lighted upon the honest Wehrfritz, through whom alone he could despatch such important booty; he himself was now on the scent after his deadly foe, the Spaniard, and no power could drive him off the hunting-ground of his wrath.