his work very often, he had not asked to accompany Lottchen this time. And
indeed Karl himself, a little anxious about the result of the scarecrow,
greatly preferred going alone.

"While she was waiting for what might happen, the conviction grew upon
Lilith, as she reviewed all the past of the story, that these phenomena
were the work of the real Karl, and of no vampire. In a few moments she
was still more sure of this. Behind the screen where she had taken refuge,
hung one of the pictures out of which her portrait had been painted the
night before last. She had taken a lamp with her into the studio, with the
intention of extinguishing it the moment she heard any sign of approach;
but as the vampire lingered, she began to occupy herself with examining
the picture beside her. She had not looked at it long, before she wetted
the tip of her forefinger, and began to rub away at the obliteration. Her
suspicions were instantly confirmed: the substance employed was only a
gummy wash over the paint. The delight she experienced at the discovery
threw her into a mischievous humour.

"'I will see,' she said to herself, 'whether I cannot match Karl
Wolkenlicht at this game.'

"In a closet in the room hung a number of costumes, which Lilith had at
different times worn for her father. Among them was a large white drapery,
which she easily disposed as a shroud. With the help of some chalk, she
soon made herself ghastly enough, and then placing her lamp on the floor
behind the screen, and setting a chair over it, so that it should throw no
light in any direction, she waited once more for the vampire. Nor had she
much longer to wait. She soon heard a door move, the sound of which she
hardly knew, and then the studio door opened. Her heart beat dreadfully,
not with fear lest it should be a vampire after all, but with hope that it