Teufelsbuerst entered his studio next day, there sat Karl, as if nothing
had happened, finishing the drawing on which he had been at work when the
fit of insensibility came upon him. The painter started, stared, rubbed
his eyes, thought it was another spectral illusion, and was on the point
of yielding to his terror, when Karl rose, and approached him with a
smile. The healthy, sunshiny countenance of Karl, let him be ghost or
goblin, could not fail to produce somewhat of a tranquilizing effect on
Teufelsbuerst. He took his offered hand mechanically, his countenance
utterly vacant with idiotic bewilderment. Karl said:

"'I was not well, and thought it better to pay a visit to a friend for a
few days; but I shall soon make up for lost time, for I am all right now.'

"He sat down at once, taking no notice of his master's behaviour, and went
on with his drawing. Teufelsbuerst stood staring at him for some minutes
without moving, then suddenly turned and left the room. Karl heard him
hurrying down the cellar stairs. In a few moments he came up again. Karl
stole a glance at him. There he stood in the same spot, no doubt more full
of bewilderment than ever, but it was not possible that his face should
express more. At last he went to his easel, and sat down with a long-drawn
sigh as if of relief. But though he sat at his easel, he painted none that
day; and as often as Karl ventured a glance, he saw him still staring at
him. The discovery that his pictures were restored to their former
condition aided, no doubt, in leading him to the same conclusion as the
other facts, whatever that conclusion might be--probably that he had been
the sport of some evil power, and had been for the greater part of a week
utterly bewitched. Lilith had taken care to instruct the old woman, with
whom she was all-powerful; and as neither of them showed the smallest
traces of the astonishment which seemed to be slowly vitrifying his own
brain, he was at last perfectly satisfied that things had been going on