He paused as if overcome by the memory of his crime.

“God avenged that dreadful deed.  That night I died, and I am now suffering the tortures of the damned.  Every night I am hunted by my victims, as you have seen.  I am now the quarry, hunted from the castle court, on through the forest, to this hidden and haunted spot.  Thousands and thousands of times I have suffered this:  I endure all the agonies I made them suffer.  I am doomed to undergo this to the last day, when I shall be hunted over the wastes of hell by legions of demons.”

Again he paused, his eyes terrible with the anguish of a lost soul.  He resumed in a sterner tone: 

“Take warning by my fate.  Providence, kinder to you than to me, has guided you hither to-night that you might learn of my punishment.  While you still have time repent of your crimes and endeavour to make amends for the suffering you have inflicted.  Remember—­the wages of sin is death.  Remember me—­and my fate!”

The next moment the phantom had faded from view.

Only the hounds were crouching near the count, panting fearfully.  All else was silent gloom and night.  After a terrible vigil the morning came, and Graf Hermann, now a changed man, returned to his castle in silence, and henceforth endeavoured to profit by the warning and follow the advice of his unhappy ancestor.

CHAPTER IV—­DRACHENFELS TO RHEINSTEIN

The Dragon’s Rock

Among the many legends invented by the early Christian monks to advance their faith, there are few more beautiful than that attached to the Drachenfels, the Dragon’s Rock, a rugged and picturesque mass of volcanic porphyry rising above the Rhine on its right bank.  Half-way up one of its pointed crags is a dark cavern known as the ‘Dragon’s Cave,’ which was at one time, in that misty past to which all legends belong, the habitation of a hideous monster, half-beast and half-reptile.  The peasants of the surrounding district held the creature in superstitious awe, worshipped him, and offered up sacrifices of human beings at the instigation of their pagan priests.  Foremost among the worshippers of the dragon were two warrior princes, Rinbod and Horsrik, who frequently made an onslaught on the Christian people dwelling on the opposite bank of the Rhine, carrying off many captives to be offered as sacrifices to the dragon.

On one such occasion, while, according to their custom, they were dividing their prisoners, the pagan princes quarrelled over one of their captives, a Christian maiden, whose beauty and helpless innocence won the hearts of her fierce captors, so that each desired to possess her, and neither was inclined to renounce his claim.  The quarrel became so bitter at length that the princes seized their weapons and were about to fight for the fair spoil.  But at this juncture their priests intervened.  “It is not meet,” said they, “that two noble princes should come