"Yes--again those words," echoed the mysterious guest, looking with his fierce burning eyes into the glazed orbs of the aged shepherd. "And now learn their import!" he continued, in a solemn tone. "Knowest thou not that there is a belief in many parts of our native land that at particular seasons certain doomed men throw off the human shape and take that of ravenous wolves?" "Oh, yes--yes--I have indeed heard of those strange legends in which the Wehr-Wolf is represented in such appalling colors!" exclaimed the old man, a terrible suspicion crossing his mind. "'Tis said that at sunset on the last day of every month the mortal, to whom belongs the destiny of the Wehr-Wolf, must exchange his natural form for that of the savage animal; in which horrible shape he must remain until the moment when the morrow's sun dawns upon the earth." "The legend that told thee this spoke truly," said the stranger. "And now dost thou comprehend the condition which must be imposed upon thee?" "I do--I do!" murmured the old man with a fearful shudder. "But he who accepts that condition makes a compact with the evil one, and thereby endangers his immortal soul!" "Not so," was the reply. "There is naught involved in this condition which---- But hesitate not," added the stranger, hastily: "I have no time to waste in bandying words. Consider all I offer you: in another hour you shall be another man!" "I accept the boon--and on the conditions stipulated!" exclaimed the shepherd. "'Tis well, Wagner----" "What! you know my name!" cried the old man. "And yet, meseems, I did not mention it to thee." "Canst thou not already perceive that I am no common mortal?" demanded the stranger, bitterly. "And who I am, and whence I derive my power, all shall be revealed to thee so soon as the bond is formed that must link us for eighteen months together! In the meantime, await me here!" And the mysterious stranger quitted the cottage abruptly, and plunged into the depths of the Black Forest. One hour elapsed ere he returned--one mortal hour, during which Wagner sat bowed over his miserably scanty fire, dreaming of pleasure, youth, riches, and enjoyment; converting, in imagination, the myriad sparks which shone upon the extinguishing embers into piles of gold, and allowing his now uncurbed fancy to change the one single room of the wretched hovel into a splendid saloon, surrounded by resplendent mirrors and costly hangings, while the untasted fare for the stranger on the rude fir-table, became transformed, in his idea, into a magnificent banquet laid out, on a board glittering with plate, lustrous with innumerable lamps, and surrounded by an atmosphere fragrant with the most exquisite perfumes. The return of the stranger awoke the old man from his charming dream, during which he had never once thought of the conditions whereby he was to purchase the complete realization of the vision.