Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors. Anonymous

of my gun, and the hatred of my whole life seemed concentrated in the tip of the finger that was to give the fatal pressure to the trigger. An invisible fatal hand was suspended over me, the index of my destiny pointed irrevocably to this black minute. My arm trembled, when I allowed my gun the fatal choice, my teeth chattered as in an ague fit, and my breath, with a suffocating sensation, was confined in my lungs. For the duration of one minute did the barrel of the gun waver uncertainly between the man and the deer, one minute—and one more—and yet one more. It was a doubtful and obstinate contest between revenge and conscience, but revenge gained the victory, and the huntsman lay dead on the ground.

      "My gun fell as it had been fired. 'Murderer,' I stammered out slowly—the wood was as silent as a churchyard, and I could hear plainly that I said 'murderer.' When I drew nearer, the man had died. Long did I stand speechless before the corse, when a shrill burst of laughter came as a relief. 'Will you keep counsel now, friend?' said I, and boldly stepping up to the murdered man, I turned round his face towards myself. His eyes were wide open. I was serious, and again became suddenly still. An extraordinary feeling took possession of me.

      "Hitherto I had sinned on account of my disgrace, but now something had happened for which I had not yet atoned. An hour before, I think, no man could have persuaded me that there was any thing under heaven worse than myself, whereas, now I began to suspect that my condition an hour before was, perhaps, an enviable one.

      "God's judgments did not occur to me—but I had a dim recollection of sword and cord, and the execution of an infanticide which I saw while a school-boy. There was something peculiarly terrible to me in the thought that my life from this moment had become forfeit. More I do not recollect. My first wish was that Robert was still living. I endeavoured forcibly to recall to my mind all the wrong that the deceased had done me during his life—but strange to say, my memory seemed to have perished. I could recall nothing of that, which a quarter of an hour before had impelled me to madness. I did not understand how I had been induced to commit this murder.

      "I was yet standing by the corpse. The crack of some whips, and the noise of carts, which were passing through the wood, brought me to my senses. The deed had been committed scarcely a quarter of a mile from the high road, and I was forced to think of my own safety.

      "Unintentionally I strayed deeper into the wood. On the way, it struck me that the deceased once possessed a watch. I needed money to reach the border—and yet I lacked courage to return to the spot, where the dead man lay. A thought of the devil and of an omnipotence of the deity began to terrify me. However, I summoned all my audacity, and resolved to set all hell at defiance. I returned to the place. I found what I had expected, and also money amounting to rather more than a dollar in a green purse. Just as I was about to put them both up, I suddenly stopped, and began to reflect. It was no fit of shame, nor was it the fear of increasing my crime by plunder. I believe it was out of a spirit of defiance that I flung away the watch, and only kept half the money. I wished to be taken for a personal enemy of the murdered man, but not for one who had robbed him.

      "I now fled deeper into the wood, which I knew extended four German miles to the north, and there touched the border of the country. Till noon I ran breathless. The rapidity of my flight had dissipated the anguish of my conscience, but the return of that anguish was frightful, when my strength more and more declined. A thousand hideous forms passed before me, and struck into my heart, like sharp knives. Between a life filled with an increasing terror of death, and a violent end, the awful choice was now left me—and choose I must. I had not the heart to quit the world by self-destruction, and I was terrified at the prospect of remaining in it. Fixed as it were between the certain torments of life, and the uncertain terrors of eternity—unable to live or to die—I passed the sixth hour of my flight—an hour brimful of horrors, such as no living man could narrate.

      "Slowly—absorbed in myself, and with my hat unconsciously slouched over my face, as if I wished to conceal myself from the eye of inanimate nature—I had insensibly followed a narrow path, which led me through the deepest part of the thicket—when suddenly a rough imperious voice called to me, 'stop.' The voice was quite close; my abstraction and the slouched hat had prevented me from looking round. I raised my eyes and saw a wild man, armed with a great knotted club, approaching me. His figure was almost gigantic—at least my first surprise made me think so—and the colour of his skin was a yellow mulatto sort of black, with which the whiteness of a squinting eye stood in terrible contrast. Instead of a girdle he had a thick rope wound twice round a green woollen coat, in which were stuck a broad knife and a pistol. The cry was repeated, and a powerful arm held me fast. The sound of a man had frightened me, but the aspect of a villain gave me new heart. In my present situation, I had cause to tremble before every honest man, but none to tremble before a robber.

      "'Who is there?' said the apparition.

      "'One like yourself,' was my answer, 'if you really correspond to your appearance.'

      "'That is not the way out? What are you looking for here?'

      "'What is that to you?' retorted I, insolently.

      "The man considered me twice from top to toe. It seemed as though he wished to compare my figure with his own, and my answer with my figure. 'You speak as rudely as a beggar,' he said at last.

      "'Perhaps so. I was a beggar yesterday.'

      "The man laughed. 'One could swear you did not want to pass for any thing better now.'

      "'For something worse then.'—I wished to proceed.

      "'Softly friend, why in such a hurry? What time have you to lose?'

      "I reflected for a moment. How the words came to my tongue I do not know. 'Life is short,' said I, slowly, 'and hell lasts for ever!'

      "He stared at me. 'May I be d—d,' he said at last, 'if thou hast not brushed close by a gallows.'

      "'Very possibly. So good bye for the present, comrade!'

      "'Topp, comrade!' he cried, as he drew a tin flask out of his hunting-pouch, took a good draught from it, and handed it to me. Flight and anguish had exhausted my energies, and nothing had passed my lips the whole day. I had already feared that I should have sunk from exhaustion in this wood, where no refreshment was to be expected for three miles round. Judge how joyfully I responded to this health. With the animating draught new strength flowed into my bones, new courage into my heart, and I felt hope and the love of life. I began to think that perhaps I was not quite wretched; so much at least was the welcome beverage all to do. Yes, I must even confess that my situation approached that of happiness, for at last, after a thousand vain hopes, I had found a creature who seemed similar to myself. In the condition to which I had fallen I should have drank good fellowship with the spirit of evil himself for the sake of having a confidant.

      "The man had stretched himself out on the grass. I did the same.

      "'Your liquor has done me good,' said I. 'We must become acquainted.'

      "He struck fire to light his pipe.

      "'Have you carried on this business long?'

      "He looked hard at me. 'What do you mean by that?'

      "'Has this often been stained with blood?' I drew the knife from his girdle.

      "'Who are you?' said he, in a fearful tone, and he laid down his pipe.

      "'A murderer like you, but only a beginner.'

      "The man stared at me, and took up his pipe again. 'Do you reside here?' he said at last.

      "'Three miles off. I am the host of the Sun at——, of whom perhaps you have heard.'

      "The man sprung up as if possessed. 'The poacher Wolf,' he cried hastily.

      "'The same!'

      "'Welcome, comrade, welcome!' cried he, and shook my hands violently. 'That is brave, that I have you at last, mine host of the Sun. Day and night have I been thinking how to get you. I know you well. I know all. I have reckoned on you long ago.'

      "'Reckoned on me! For what?'

      "'The