hey?'

"He jumped out of bed, threw on his clothes, and, in his anxiety, did
not appear to perceive the absence of his wife. As soon as he was ready
I opened the door; he went out, and I followed him.

"Imagine his horror, when (unprepared as he was for such a sight) he
beheld, as he advanced towards the grave not a wolf, but his wife, in
her night-dress, on her hands and knees, crouching by the body of my
sister, and tearing off large pieces of the flesh, and devouring them
with all the avidity of a wolf. She was too busy to be aware of our
approach. My father dropped his gun; his hair stood on end, so did
mine; he breathed heavily, and then his breath for a time stopped. I
picked up the gun and put it into his hand. Suddenly he appeared as if
concentrated rage had restored him to double vigour; he levelled his
piece, fired, and with a loud shriek down fell the wretch whom he had
fostered in his bosom.

"`God of Heaven!' cried my father, sinking down upon the earth in a
swoon, as soon as he had discharged his gun.

"I remained some time by his side before he recovered. `Where am I?'
said he, `what has happened? Oh!--yes, yes! I recollect now. Heaven
forgive me!'

"He rose and we walked up to the grave; what again was our astonishment
and horror to find that, instead of the dead body of my mother-in-law,
as we expected, there was lying over the remains of my poor sister, a
large white she-wolf.

"`The white wolf!' exclaimed my father, `the white wolf which decoyed me
into the forest--I see it all now--I have dealt with the spirits of the
Hartz Mountains.'

"For some time my father remained in silence and deep thought. He then
carefully lifted up the body of my sister, replaced it in the grave, an
covered it over as before, having struck the head of the dead animal
with the heel of his boot, and raving like a madman. He walked back to
the cottage, shut the door, and threw himself on the bed; I did the
same, for I was in a stupor of amazement.

"Early in the morning we were both roused by a loud knocking at the
door, and in rushed the hunter Wilfred.

"`My daughter--man--my daughter!--where is my daughter?' cried he in a
rage.

"`Where the wretch, the fiend, should be, I trust,' replied my father,
starting up, and displaying equal choler; `where she should be--in hell!
Leave this cottage, or you may fare worse.'

"`Ha--ha!' replied the hunter, `would you harm a potent spirit of the
Hartz Mountain