ndition?"

"That you prey upon the human race, whom _he_ hates as well as I,"
answered the stranger.

"Again those awful words!" ejaculated the old man, casting trembling
glances around him.

"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