embodiment of his favourite subject, into which he had sketched the form
of the student as the sufferer. He had represented poor Wolkenlicht as
just beginning to recover from a trance, while a group of surgeons,
unaware of the signs of returning life, were absorbed in a minute
dissection of one of the limbs. At an open door he had painted Lilith
passing, with her face buried in a bunch of sweet peas. But when he came
to the picture, he found, to his astonishment and terror, that the face of
one of the group was now turned towards that of the victim, regarding his
revival with demoniac satisfaction, and taking pains to prevent the others
from discovering it. The face of this prince of torturers was that of
Teufelsbuerst himself. Lilith had altogether vanished, and in her place
stood the dim vampire reiteration of the body that lay extended on the
table, staring greedily at the assembled company. With trembling hands the
painter removed the picture from the easel, and turned its face to the
wall.

"Of course this was the work of Lottchen. When he left the house, he took
with him the key of a small private door, which was so seldom used that,
while it remained closed, the key would not be missed, perhaps for many
months. Watching the windows, he had chosen a safe time to enter, and had
been hard at work all night on these alterations. Teufelsbuerst attributed
them to the vampire, and left the picture as he found it, not daring to
put brush to it again.

"The next night was passed much after the same fashion. But the fear had
begun to die away a little in the hearts of the women, who did not know
what had taken place in the studio on the previous night. It burrowed,
however, with gathered force in the vitals of Teufelsbuerst. But this night
likewise passed in peace; and before it was over, the old woman had taken
to speculating in her own mind as to the best way of disposing of the