th a pocket book, in which is pasted the photograph of a
little boy not quite three years old, with a grave earnest face, and
gazes at it as intently as if it were a map of the country which he
carried to guide him on his way. And in fact this child's face has
shown him the way to a happy, peaceful life.

Just as he closes the pocket book, he sees some one approaching him.
"Edwin!" he calls. "Gracious Heaven, how do you chance to be here? You
look as if you'd just risen from the grave. Eternal Gods! What has
happened?"

Edwin paused. Mohr saw him move his lips without emitting a sound; then
he tried to smile, but he only accomplished a sorrowful distortion of
the face. He looked as pale as if he had not a drop of blood in his
veins, his eyes were sunken, and his hat was thrust far back on his
head.

"Heinrich!" he gasped at last, with a violent effort, "it's well that I
have met you--I--I don't know what might have happened--it was too much
at once."

"But man, speak, tell me--where--what has occurred--have you seen a
ghost?"

"You've said it, Heinz--and it will not leave me in peace. Listen, but
don't tell any one; I'm the old Tannhaeuser and come straight from--"

His voice failed, his eyes suddenly closed, his knees trembled, and if
Mohr had not hastily sprung forward, his head would have struck the
trunk of a oak which stood close to the road.

At this moment a traveling carriage, piled with luggage and drawn
by four handsome horses from the count's stable, passed them. The
fair-haired princess was leaning back on the cushions beside Prince
Bataroff, the young prince occupied the front seat, and beside him,
laughing and talking in the gayest manner, was Lorinser.

The travelers' servants, a maid and two valets, followed in a light
hunting carriage, engaged in eager conversation, while a bottle of wine
from the castle cellar circulated freely between them and the count's
groom, who was driving.

No one in either carriage noticed the group on the foot path, or heard
Mohr's call to stop and take in the fainting man. Not until they had
passed, did Mohr, who looked after them cursing the cold hearts of
aristocrats, see the face of his mortal enemy. The blood froze in his
veins, and he let his friend fall from his arms as if about to rush
after the carriage. Then he suddenly regained his composure.

"Drive on," he murmured. "That devil's no longer to be feared. We have
here to deal with other powers of darkne