persecutors. Nevertheless he checked not his bridle, but kept on his way till he reached the village of Fiendenheim, where he rushed in dismay up to a crowd of the inhabitants.
“The men of Fiendenheim shouted when they saw the successful huntsman, who had ridden forth in the anticipation of happiness, return so terrified, and the women screamed as they gazed at the man and horse, black with smoke, and dripping with perspiration. ‘Is this the bridegroom?’ cried they. ‘Where is the bride?’ Hendrick, for a long time, could not speak; at length, after drinking a deep and long draught to clear his throat, he told what he had seen. All the hamlet was in agitation. They ran to the castle of Count Albert, and clamoured to see the head of the boarwolf. The warder called for torches, and led the way into an inner court; but instead of the grim visage of the rapacious monster, they beheld the pale and withered features of Wolfgang the huntsman, slowly dropping gore, as it stood on the end of a pike. Hendrick fainted, and lay long in a trance, and when he did recover he retired into the monastery of St. Hubert, where he shortly died.
“Ages have passed away since this event is said to have occurred, and generation after
