as still plain, lying flat in the snow. The witch
had lighted the fire to cook it; she had had a good breakfast, I'll be
bound."

At this Sperver cried indignantly--

"Just fancy that old witch living on meat while so many honest folks in
our villages have nothing better than potatoes to eat! That's what upsets
me, Fritz! Ah! if I had but--"

But his thoughts remained untold; he turned deadly pale, and all three of
us, in a moment, stood rigid and motionless, staring with horror at each
other's ghastly countenances.

A yell--the howling cry of the wolf in the long, cold days of winter--the
cry which none can imagine who has not heard the most fearful and
harrowing of all bestial sounds--that fearful cry was echoing through the
castle not far from us! It rose up the spiral staircase, it filled the
massive building as if the hungry, savage beast was at our door!

Travellers speak of the deep roar of the lion troubling the silence of
the night amidst the rocky deserts of Africa; but while the tropical
regions, sultry and baked, resound with the vibrations of the mighty
voice of the savage monarch of the desert, making the air tremble with
the distant thunder of his awful cry, the vast snowy deserts of the North
too have their characteristic cry--a strange, lamentable yell that seems
to suit the character of the dreary winter scene. That voice of the
Northern desert is the howl of the wolf!

The instant after this awful sound had broken upon the silence followed
another formidable body of discordant sounds--the baying and yelling of
sixty hounds--answering from the ramparts of Nideck. The whole pack gave
voice at the same moment--the deep bay of the bloodhound, the sharp cry
of the pointer, the plaintive yelpings of the spaniels, and the
melancholy howl of the mastiffs, all mingling in confusion with the
rattling of dog-chains, the shaking of the kennels under the struggles
of the hounds to get loose; and, dominating over all, the long, dismal,
prolonged note of the wolf's monotonous howl; his was the leading part
in this horrible canine concert!

Sperver sprang from his seat and ran out upon the platform to see if a
wolf had dropped into the moat. But no--the howling came from neither.
Then turning to us he cried--

"Fritz! Sebalt!--come, come quickly!"

We flew down the steps four at a time and rushed into the fencing-school.
Here we heard the cry of the wolf alone, prolonged beneath the echoing
arches the dist