The trail of light left behind her by the swimmer was visible on the calm surface of the lake.  Suddenly it made an abrupt turn, and began to form a gigantic V. Evidently the little maid was impelled by desperate terror to reach the protecting canoe.  When she came abreast of it she uttered a second cry, convulsively grasped the edge of the boat, and cast a terrified glance backward.

“Marie!” cried the count, greatly alarmed, seizing the girdle about her waist and lifting her into the canoe.  “What has happened?  Who is following you?”

The child trembled violently; her teeth chattered, and she gasped for breath, unable to speak; only her large eyes were still fixed with an expression of horror on the water.

Ludwig looked searchingly around, but could see nothing.  And yet, after a few seconds, something rose before him.

What was it?  Man or beast?

The head, the face, were head and face of a human being—­a man, perhaps.  The cheeks and head were covered with short reddish hair like the fur of an otter.  The long, pointed ears stood upright.  The mouth was closed so tightly that the lips were invisible.  The nose was flat.  The eyes, like those of a fish, were round and staring.  There was no expression whatever in the features.

The mysterious monster had risen quite close to the boat.

Ludwig seized an oar with both hands to crush the monster’s head; but the heavy blow fell on the water.  The creature had vanished underneath the boat, and only the motion of the water on the other side indicated the direction it had taken.  Terror and rage had benumbed Ludwig’s nerves.

What was it?  Who had sent this nameless monster after his carefully guarded treasure?  Even the bottom of the lake concealed her enemies!  He could think of nothing but intrigues and malignant persecutions.  Rage boiled in his veins.

He enveloped the maid in her bath-mantle, and took up his oars.

“I will come back here to-morrow,” he muttered to himself, “hunt up this creature, and shoot it—­be it man or beast.”

Marie murmured something which sounded like a remonstrance.

“I will shoot the creature!” repeated Ludwig, savagely.

The young girl withdrew trembling to the stern of the boat, and said nothing further; she even strove to suppress her nervous terror, like a child that has behaved naughtily.

When the boat reached the shore, Ludwig bade Marie in a stern voice to make haste and change her bathing-dress, and became very impatient when she lingered longer than usual in the bath-house.  Then he took her arm and walked rapidly with her to the castle.

“Are you really going to shoot that creature?” asked Marie, still trembling.

“Yes.”

“But suppose it is a human being?”

“Then I shall certainly shoot him.”

“I will never, never again venture into the lake.”