"No--no!" exclaimed Wagner. "Rather the destiny of a Wehr-Wolf--rather the solitude of this island for the remainder of my days--than resign all chance of salvation! And that mine immortal soul is yet safe, the very temptations thou offerest with such eloquent persuasion fully proves! Oh! Heaven, of its infinite mercy, will receive the dreadful sufferings 'tis mine to endure each month, as an atonement for that hour of weakness, madness, folly, when dazzled by the words of Faust, and overwhelmed by a weight of miseries, I accepted a regenerated existence. Yes, Heaven will forgive me yet: and therefore avaunt, fiend! avaunt!" And as he uttered these words he made the sign of the cross, and the demon fled away howling. Wagner turned aside in dismay, and sank upon the ground as if blasted by the lightning. A deep sleep fell on Fernand's eyes, and in his dreams he thought he heard a solemn but rejoicing strain of music filling the air. That divine melody seemed to speak a language eloquent and intelligible, and to give him hope and promise of a deliverance from the dreadful destiny which his weakness and folly had entailed upon him. The music grew fainter and fainter, and at the moment when it died away altogether a heavenly and radiant being rose in the midst of a cloud, an angel, clad in white and shining garments, and with snowy wings closed, and drooping from its shoulders. Looking benignly upon the sleeping Wagner the angel said in a soft and liquid tone, "Thrice hast thou resisted the temptations of the enemy of mankind: once in thy dungeon at Florence, a second time amidst the defiles of yon mountains, and now on this spot. He will appear to thee no more, unless thou thyself summon him. Much hast thou already done in atonement for the crime that endangered thy soul when, withdrawing thy faith from Heaven, thou didst accept new life on the conditions proposed to thee by the agent of Satan; but much more must thou yet do, ere that atonement will be complete!" The form ceased to speak, and gradually became fainter and fainter, until it disappeared with its glorious halo altogether. Then Fernand awoke, and his dream was vividly impressed upon his memory. Assuming a kneeling posture, he clasped his hands fervently together, and said aloud, "Merciful Heaven! be the vision one divinely sent, or be it but the sport of an imagination fevered by a long night of suffering, I receive it as an emblem and as a sign of hope and promise!" He arose. The sun was now high in the heaven, and he hastened to the shore to perform his ablutions. Refreshed in body with the bath which he took in the Mediterranean, and in mind with the influence of the vision, he retraced his way toward the mountains. The range was passed in safety, and he once more set foot on that section of the island where Nisida was so anxiously awaiting his presence.