d away as if to escape from his
thoughts. Suddenly, a voice cried out:

"Stop, Bruno!" He shuddered. Whose voice could it be? Who would call
him by name? Surprise and alarm had thrown him into a cold sweat.

"Who calls me?" he asked with pale, trembling lips.

"You can't get here."

"Who are you? Where are you?" cried Bruno. A cold shudder passed over
him, and his horse snorted and snuffed the air. Was it true that
witches lived in rocks? for the voice had come from the rock.

"Who are you?" repeated Bruno; "your voice seems--"

"Do you still know Black Esther? Turn back, or you're a dead man."

He heard something whizzing by him. Benumbed with terror, he sat upon
his horse. At last he dropped the rein, looked at his hand, drew off
his glove, as if to satisfy himself that he was still living, that it
was yet day, that all was not a dream, or the product of wild
imagination--

His horse went on at a gentle pace. Suddenly, it started to one
side--there had been the report of a gun. Who could be hunting there?

Bruno had already gotten beyond the limits of his own domain. Who could
now be hunting in the royal forests, where the chase was not to begin
until next month?

With a complacent air, Bruno twirled his mustache. He again felt
confidence in himself, and in his worldly wisdom. He felt for the
revolver in his saddle-bag, and calmly examined it to see if it was fit
for use. The horse went on. Presently he saw a gun-barrel resting on a
tree and directed against him, while a voice from behind the tree
called out:

"Turn back, or you're a dead man. One--two--three--"

Trembling from head to foot, Bruno turned his horse's head. Behind him
was the loaded gun, and, at any moment, a bullet might pierce him. The
cold sweat streamed down his face; his eyes burned; he did not venture
to raise his hand, lest the poacher behind him should misinterpret the
movement and shoot him in the back. It was not until he had reached the
rock where Black Esther had called to him and had so mysteriously
disappeared, that he ventured to breathe freely. She had not forgotten
his love, and he would henceforth provide for her. He again put spurs
to his horse, and hurried off without knowing whither. It was not until
he reached tilled land and saw laborers at work, that he alighted and
sat down on the ground.

The first feeling of safety inspired him with a good resolve. He would
return and, bowing himself--in repentance, ask his fat