"Strange question," thought I; "a police spy, without doubt." A half-torn letter lay on the table. I showed him my address on the envelope.

66

Very good," said he. "But the name is a very common one; you may find it in every corner of Germany, Hungary, and Poland. You must give me better vouchers; I have some business with you, and have been directed hither." "Sir," said I, "pardon me; I cannot now attend to business; I am just upon the point of leaving, and have yet a thousand things to see about. You must be mistaken in the person, for I am neither politician nor merchant."

He stared at me, and said, "Indeed!" He was then silent for a while, and appeared about to depart; but began again: "You have, however, been doing some business here in Prague. Is not your brother upon the point of becoming bankrupt?"

I must have grown fire-red, for, as I believed, that was known to no soul in the world except my brother and myself. Here the tempter gave one of his malicious smiles again.

"You are again mistaken, sir," said I; "I have a brother, it is true, and more than one, but none that fears bankruptcy." "Indeed!" murmured the tempter, and his features again became hard and iron. "Sir," said I, somewhat sensitively, for I was not at all pleased that any one in Prague should know of my brother's circumstances, and I was afraid that the old fox would see into my play as he did into the game of chess at the coffee-house, "you have certainly been directed to the wrong person. I must beg pardon for requesting you to be brief; I have not a moment to lose."

"Have patience only a minute," replied he; "it is important for me that I should speak with you. You appear disquieted. Has anything disagreeable happened to you? You are a stranger here. I myself do not belong to Prague; and I see the city now for the first time for twelve years. But I have considerable experience. Confide in me. You look like an honest man. Do you need money ?"

Then he smiled, or rather grinned again, as if he wanted to buy my soul. His manner became ever more suspicious. Involuntarily I cast a glance at his club

foot, and really I began to feel a superstitious dread. I was resolved in no case to commit myself with this suspicious gentleman, and said, "I need no money. Since you are so generous in your offers, sir, may I ask your name?"

"My name cannot be of much consequence to you," replied he; "that's nothing to the matter. I am a Mandeville. Does the name give you more confidence ?"

"A Man-devil!" said I, in odd embarrassment, and knew not what to say, or whether the whole thing were in jest or in earnest.

Just then some one knocked at the door. The landlord entered, and handed me a letter which had just come by the post.

"Read your letter first," said the redcoat," and then we will talk further. The letter is, without doubt, from your lovely Fanny."

I was more startled than ever.

"Now, do you know," continued the stranger, with a grin, "do you not now know who I am, and what I want with you?"

It was upon my lips to say, "You are, sir, I verily believe, Satan himself;" but I restrained myself.

"But, further," added he, "you are going to Eger. Good! my way lies through that town. I start to-morrow. Will you take a place in my carriage?"

I thanked him, and said that I had already ordered a post-chaise,

At this he became disturbed, and said, "There is no getting at you; but your Fanny, and the little Leopold, and Augustus, I must get acquainted with in going through. Can you not guess who I am, and what I want? Sir, I would render

you a service. Do speak."

"Well," said I, at last, "since you are a wizard, my pocket-book is missing. Advise me how I shall get it again."

"Bah! what signifies a pocket-book? Is there not something else?"

"But in the pocket-book were important papers; more than fourteen hundred dollars in value. Advise me what I shall do if it is lost, and what if stolen."

"How did the pocket-book look ?” "It had a silk cover, light green, with embroidery, and my initials wrought in flowers, a piece of my wife's work."

"Then the cover is worth more than the fourteen hundred dollars." With this he smiled upon me with his horrible fa

miliarity, and then added, "We must see about it. What will you give me if I supply your loss?"

At these words he looked at me as sharply and strangely as if he expected me to answer, " I will make you a present of my soul;" but as I remained embarrassed and silent, he plunged his hand into his pocket and drew out my pocket-book. "There, have you your jewel, the fourteen hundred dollars, and all," said he.

I was beside myself. "How came you by it?" cried I, tearing it open, and finding all safe.

"I found it yesterday afternoon, about four o'clock, upon the Moldau Bridge."

How one may be deceived by a man's physiognomy! I was ready to throw my arms round the neck of my man-devil. I said the most obliging things to him.

My joy was now as excessive as my previous vexation had been. But he would listen to none of my thanks. I vowed that as long as I lived I would never again trust to physiognomical impressions.

"Remember me to your beautiful Fanny. A pleasant journey to you! We shall see each other again," said he, and departed.

RETURN HOME.

On the way home the strange Mandeville continually arose before my imagination. I could not forget the odd figure with the red coat, the club foot, and the ill-omened features. I could not help thinking, too, of the bushel of black hair which stood about his brow.

It is true he had brought back my pocket-book; no man in the world could have acted more honestly. He had read Fanny's letters, and my brother's instructions to me, and so, naturally enough, had become acquainted with my secrets. But -his face-no; nature could not have written so illegibly! Had I ever believed in the existence of a Mephistophiles I should have had no doubt of it now for a single moment.

But enough of this nonsense.

I had been two days and a night on my way home, and it was getting late on the second day. In vain did I scold the driver, and urge him on with words and money. It was growing later and darker, and I was becoming more and more impatient. Ah, I had not seen Fanny for

almost three months, nor my children, who bloomed at the side of their young mother like two rosebuds near a hardlyblown rose! I fairly trembled with delight, when I thought that my wife (the loveliest of her sex) would be in my arms that day.

It is true that I had loved before ever I had become acquainted with Fanny. I had once had a Julia, who had been torn from me by the pride of her parents, and wedded to a rich Polish nobleman. It was our first love; to both bordering on mutual idolatry and distraction. At the moment of separation we had sworn eternal love, and kisses and tears had sealed the oath. But all the world knows how it goes with such things. She became the Countess St. and I saw Fanny.

My love for Fanny was holier, riper, more tender. Julia was once the idol of my imagination, but Fanny was now the adored of my heart.

The clock of our little town struck one as we drove into the sleeping streets. I got out at the post-house, and leaving my servant behind me with my trunk, as I intended, in case all were asleep at home, to return and pass the night there, I walked out to the suburb, where the windows of my dear home, under the high nut-trees, glimmered in the moonlight

HATEFUL VISIT.

AND all slept! O, Fanny, Fanny, had you only been awake, how much grief and terror you would have saved me! They slept, my wife, my children, the domestics; nowhere any light! A dozen times did I walk round the house; all was fast; Better the I would not disturb any one. rapture of meeting in the morning hour, when one is refreshed by sleep, than in the feverish midnight.

Fortunately, I found my beautiful new summer-house open. I entered. There stood my Fanny's work-basket on a little table; and I saw, by the moonlight, on the table and seats the drums and whips of my children. They had probably spent the afternoon there. These trifles made me feel almost as if I were with my loved ones. I stretched myself upon the sofa, and determined to pass the night there. The night was mild and balmy, and the fragrance of flowers and garden-plants filled my apartment.

One who has not slept for forty hours finds every bed soft. In my weariness I soon fell asleep. But I had hardly closed my eyes when the creaking of the summerhouse door awakened me. I sprang up; I saw a man enter, and thought it was a thief. But imagine my astonishment; it was friend red-coat!

"Where do you come from?" said I. "From Prague. In half an hour I must set out again. I was determined to keep my word, and to see you and your Fanny as I passed through. I heard from your servant that you had gone on before, and I expected to find all awake at your house. You do not mean to pass the night here in the cold, damp air, and get sick?"

I went out into the garden with him, and quaked in every limb. In my secret heart, indeed, I laughed at this superstitious fear, and yet I could not rid myself of it. Such is human nature. The hard features of my Prague friend appeared by the pale moonlight even more terrible, and his eyes glittered even more brightly.

"You have really frightened me like a ghost," said I; "I tremble all over. How came you to seek me in my summerhouse? You seem to know everything.”

He smiled maliciously, and said, "Don't you now know me, and what I want with you?"

"I don't know you now any better than I did at Prague. But, just for the joke, I will tell you how you appeared to me; you will not take it amiss; I thought that if you were not a wizard, you must be Satan himself."

He grinned again, and replied, "What if I were Satan, would you make a bargain with me?"

"You will have to offer me much before I should give you my hand upon it. For truly, Mr. Satan, permit me to call you so just in joke, my happiness is complete."

You come

"Oho! I shall offer you nothing, give you nothing. That was the custom in old times; but now-a-days the children of men are as cheap as dirt. to me of your own accord. You have reason upon your lips, and the might of a hundred passions in your hearts. The best among you, corrupted creatures, is he who has the least opportunity to sin." "This is talking like the devil indeed," cried I. "Certainly!" cried the red gentleman,

and grinned. "But I speak the truth because you people do not any longer believe it. So long as truth was yet sacred among men Satan must needs be the father of lies. But now the case is reversed. We poor devils are always the antipodes of mankind."

"Then, in the present case at least, you are not my opponent; for I think just as you do, my philosophical Mr. Devil."

"Good! then you belong to me already, Let a man give me a hold of a single hair, and I will have his whole head; and-but it's cool here-my carriage is, I guess, all ready; I must start. So good-by."

He went. I accompanied him back to the post-house, where, indeed, his carriage stood waiting.

"I thought you would come in and drink a parting glass of punch with me, which I ordered before I went after you." I accepted the invitation. The warm room was very agreeable.

THE TEMPTATION.

THE punch was standing on the table when we entered. A stranger was walking, moody and tired, up and down the

room.

man.

He was a tall, meager, elderly Baggage was lying around on the chairs. I noticed a lady's shawl, bonnet, and gloves.

As we were drinking together the stranger said to a servant who brought in some baggage, "Tell my lady when she comes, that I have gone to bed. We must start early."

I determined not to return to the cool summer-house, but ordered a bed for the night. The stranger retired. The red gentleman and I chatted together, and drank the punch-bowl empty. The brandy warmed and exhilarated me. The red-coat hasted to his carriage, and as I helped him in he said, "We shall see each other again." With this the carriage rolled away.

When I went back into the room there was a lady there taking away the bonnet and shawl. As she turned toward me I lost all self-possession. It was Julia! my first love, upon an excursion to Italy, as I afterward learned. She was no less startled than I. "For heaven's sake, Robert, is it your spirit ?"

"Julia!" stammered I; and all the rap

expected meeting.

I turned respectfully toward her. Her eyes were full of tears. I drew her to my heart.

"This is not my room," said she, drawing the shawl around her. "Come, Robert, we have much to say to each other." She went; I followed her to her room. "Here we can talk freely," said she, and we sat down upon the sofa. How we talked! Once more I lived again in all the fever-tumult of an old love, which I had supposed was long ago extinguished. Julia, unhappy in her marriage, treated me with all her former tenderness. She was more beautiful, more blooming than

ever.

There was a magic, which I cannot describe, in Julia's words and in her whole manner. All the past rose vividly before

me.

Our first acquaintance at her sister's wedding; the emotions which filled us then; our meeting again in the garden of the ducal castle; then the excursion upon the water with our parents; then-but enough

Suddenly the door opened. The tall, lank man entered, with the question, "Who is this with you, Julia ?" We sprang up, terrified. The count stood for a moment speechless, and pale as a corpse. Then, with three steps, he strode toward Julia, wound her long chestnut locks around his hand, hurled her shrieking to the floor, and dragged her about, exclaiming, "Faithless woman! false wretch!"

I rushed to her aid. He pushed me away with such force that I tumbled back upon the floor. As I rose to my feet again he let go the unhappy Julia, and cried out to me, "You I'll throttle!" In my desperation I caught up a knife from the table, and threatened to plunge it into him if he did not keep still. But the frantic man threw himself upon me, and seized me by the throat. I lost my breath, and brandished the knife in all directions. I thrust it repeatedly at him. Suddenly the unhappy man fell. The knife was in his heart.

CONSUMMATION OF HORROR.

As I rushed down the steps I resolved to hasten to my house, awaken my wife and children, press them once more to my heart, and then, like a second Cain, wan

justice. But on the stairs I saw that my clothes were sprinkled with blood. I trembled at the thought of being seen.

The street-door was locked. As I turned to escape through the yard I heard people crying and calling after me from above. I ran across the yard to the barn; I knew that thence I could get out into the gardens and fields outside the town. But my pursuers were close behind me. I had scarcely reached the barn when some one seized me by the coat. With fearful desperation I tore myself away, and hurled the burning candle into a large haystack near by. It suddenly caught fire; so I hoped to save myself. I succeeded. They let me go, their attention being diverted by the fire; I escaped into the open country.

I rushed blindly forward, over hedges and hillocks. The idea of seeing my Fanny, and Augustus, and Leopold, was no more to be thought of. The instinct of self-preservation took precedence of everything else. When I thought of my return home yesterday, and of my expectations of the coming morning, I could not believe what had happened. But my bloody and clotted clothes, and the cool morning air, which chilled me through, convinced me only too truly of the reality. I ran almost breathless, until I could run no longer. Had I had any weapon of death about me, or had a stream been near, I should have ceased to live.

Dripping with sweat, and utterly exhausted, with trembling knees, I continued my flight at a slower pace. I was obliged at times to stop to recover myself. Several times I was on the point of fainting quite away.

Thus I succeeded in reaching the next village. While I stood hesitating whether to go round it or go boldly through it, for it was bright moonlight, and the sun had not yet risen, the village bells began to ring, and soon I heard bells from more distant quarters. There was a general alarm.

Every stroke harrowed me. I looked round. Behind me appeared a dark-red glow; a huge pillar of flame licked the very clouds! The whole town was on fire. I—I was the incendiary! O, my Fanny! O, my children! what a horrible awakening has your father prepared for you!