The moon shone brightly and calmly over the still woods, and the gentle breath of the night wind sighed mournfully over the ear, as it kissed the forest branches, and swept through the tops of the pines. The murmur of the stream, as it flowed smoothly onward between the high mountain passes, added to the soft influence of the scene. All nature was lulled into repose. A small charcoal fire, burning on a rocky ledge, beneath a tall cliff, disclosed the mouth of a dark cavern, at the entrance of which sat Rudenfranck, the hunter, wrapped in a cloak, to protect his person from the heavy damps of the night. He rose from his seat, and moved restlessly about, making some arrangements in the mouth of the cavern, and occasionally casting an anxious glance over the surrounding hills, as if impatiently expecting his victim.

“I think that he will hardly fail me,” muttered he. “No, he has too much at stake to abandon this enterprise. How still the night is! Strange, that he comes not, and yet the hour approaches rapidly. All is prosperous thus far. O, star of my destiny, triumph in this hour, which is doomed to complete the anxious toil of years! Rejoice in the anticipated majesty of high dominion! But why do I feel so sad? What small voice is that, which whispers me to desist from my undertaking? Repentance—repentance! My spirit is too dark, and I could not, if I would, repent. How quickly my heart beats as the time speeds on! Yet one more victim! Why, I shall be a king? that word is too weak, to express the glorious extent of wisdom and power which I shall enjoy. But happiness—no, no!—that feeling I shall never more experience! These thoughts—the recollection of past crime. Why should I think of crime, who am beyond the hope of salvation? Ha! he comes! ’Twas but the plash of an otter. No! he is here!”

“Rudenfranck, is it thou?” said Adolf, “lend me thy hand. So. I have met with strange warnings in my path toward thee. I fear to go on. Can nothing be devised save this dread trial?”

“I have already told thee, nothing. Come up. The air is damp, and my fire burns brightly. Have you procured that which I desired of thee?”

“I have it; but, Rudenfranck, sacrilege was the price of it.”

“Never regard the price, so as thou hast it. This is right,” said the hunter, as he received the consecrated wafer. “Help me to build this pile, which must be raised before we commence our solemn work.”

Adolf assisted Rudenfranck to build a small pile of stones, upon which were deposited the box containing the pentagon, the consecrated wafer, and a small cruse, in which was a dark red liquid. Rudenfranck also placed a brazier on the pile, into which he deposited some slips of parchment, inscribed with talismanic characters. As they finished their task, the moon cast a straight and gigantic shadow across the Wolf Hills, and the pines seemed to dilate, in the white glare, to an unearthly size.

“It is the hour,” said Rudenfranck. “Be firm. Shrink not; and expect the full reward of thy bravery. Help me to don these vestments.” He threw across his shoulders a furred robe, which he bound tightly round his body with a broad, red girdle. He then placed on his head a conical cap, and taking in his hand a sword, inscribed with characters, and without a guard, he described on the earth, the form of a pentagon, the centre of the figure being occupied by the altar stones, at the side of which Rudenfranck placed his companion.

“Lay thine hand on the altar,” said Rudenfranck, “and pour from this cruse into the brazier, the liquid which it contains. Stay not to look around thee, but feed the fire steadily, while I perform our magic ceremonies.”

Rudenfranck lit a fire in the brazier as he spoke, and drawing a dagger from his girdle, plunged it violently into his arm. The blood flowed freely. He allowed it to run upon the five angles, reciting in a strange language, mysterious charms. He then placed the linen pentagon in front of his breast, and commanded Adolf to feed the flame as he had instructed him. Adolf poured the liquid from the cruse into the burning brazier; and Rudenfranck, gradually raising his voice, until from a measured chaunt, he broke into furious vehemence, suddenly pronounced the charm of the opal. The moon, which had till now shone brightly, changed its color to a deep red; thunder rolled, and the forked lightning flashed frequently and fearfully. The stars shot wildly across the face of heaven. The wind whistled and groaned through the trees. The earth quaked; and the whole frame of nature seemed to shudder at the incantation. A furious crash resounded through the cavern; brilliant lights danced through the gloom; the magic words engraved on the opal gave out a dense and aromatic smoke, and the entire body of rock, seeming to split asunder, with a tremendous crash, disclosed a magnificent brazen gate, ornamented with characters similar to those on the opal, at the sides of which two gigantic skeletons, crowned with diadems, and bearing strange weapons in their bony grasp, stood, the grisly warders of the charmed treasure.

Rudenfranck paused from his incantations, and, turning to Adolf, said in a hoarse whisper,

“This is the portal which encloses the treasures of Bructorix; but the phantom of the sage must now be invoked. Take thou this holy wafer, and affix it to yon brazen gate. Do this speedily, and fear not.”

Adolf, highly excited and bewildered by the scene, obeyed without hesitation. Once, as he was about to affix the consecrated element to the gate, he fancied that some invisible arm endeavored to restrain his hand; but he performed the commands of Rudenfranck, and returned to the altar.

“Now,” said Rudenfranck, “but one more thing remains for thee to perform. Raise thy rifle; take good aim, and shoot at the wafer of the host. Shoot bravely!”

The wretched and abandoned Adolf followed the instructions of Rudenfranck. He raised his rifle, took deliberate aim at the holy emblem, and fired. A demoniac shout rang through the cave. The angles of the pentagon shot forth vivid lightnings. The skeleton guardians of the gate threw down their weapons, while red light flamed from their eyeless skulls. The massive leaves of the gate flew wide open, and displayed an immense vault, filled with huge vases of gold and jewels, which shone with ineffable brilliance. The arched and fretted roof was sustained by bronze pillars, representing strange and hideous animals, contorted into the most grotesque attitudes. Thousands of gnomes, swarmed through the vault, of misshapen forms, whose fierce and raging eyes dwelt upon the hunters, with anger and contempt. Thrice did Rudenfranck, bowing himself to the earth, call upon the name of Bructorix. Thrice hollow thunder pealed throughout the cavern, and, at the third appeal, a gigantic figure rose slowly through the earth, and stood before them. The figure was enveloped in an imperial robe of purple, embroidered with jewels, precious beyond description. A girdle of living fire encircled his waist, and a crown of various and brilliant gems bound his white and flowing locks. In his hand he carried an ivory sceptre. His countenance, scathed by flames, looked like that of some ghastly denizen of the tomb, newly raised to-day; and its expression was lofty, haughty and commanding.

“Who calls upon the name of Bructorix?” asked the spectre, in a sepulchral voice.

“The seeker of his power, mighty spirit,” answered Rudenfranck. “I bring to thee the promised victim, and expect the reward of my services. Once more prolong the date of my life, and execute those promises made me; when by mighty spells, I had raised thee from the abode of the dead, in Germany. That term expired, I bring unto thee another soul, or else resign my own.”

“Would this youth enjoy my treasures,” asked the phantom, “and knows he the nature of the obligation I demand of him?”

“He asks wealth of thee, and, in return, will accede to thy demands.”

“Let him sign the deed, which gives over to my master his soul and body, and his wishes shall be gratified.”

Rudenfranck drew from his breast a parchment scroll, and the infatuated Adolf, with his own blood, subscribed to his eternal ruin.

“Take of my treasures,” said the sceptre, “what thou would’st have, and use it as thou wilt. In exchange for the gift of thy soul, contained in this writing, thou shalt have full access to my treasure. But, mark me. Seven years are granted unto thee, at the close of which time, thou must return, and pay thy homage to the lord of these realms.”

“And myself?” asked Rudenfranck, “shall I not reap the harvest for which I have labored? Recollect thy promises made me in Germany.”

“They are thine,” said the spirit. “This sceptre controls the fiercest demons. Take it. Return to thy native land, and revel in the possession of all earthly wisdom, riches, and power. But when thy date of life has again expired, seek not to renew it. It is enough. Dismiss me.”

“Depart to thy place, accursed spirit,” said the hunter. The spirit of Bructorix descended, and the phantoms hastened to pile the vases of gold and jewels outside of the brazen gate, until the first grey light of the dawn began to glimmer through the clouds. Instantly, the gorgeous scene disappeared, and the cavern resumed its original appearance. Adolf and Rudenfranck, loading themselves with gold, carefully filled up the mouth of the cavern with rocks and brushwood, and returned warily, homeward.