the former had done, and William again knew the work of the fiend.
Every second of time was now precious, and William pursued his fearful work with the energy of despair. Sixty bullets were already cast; he raised his eyes for a moment towards the heavens, and beheld the clouds once more giving way, and the moon pouring her beautiful light through the vapoury chasm: but at the same instant he heard his name called in well-known accents from a little distance: “William! William!” The voice was his own Katherine’s, and her form suddenly emerged from a neighbouring copse, and seemed about to spring forward to avoid the clutches of the miserable hag, who had already tormented William with her fiendish appearance, and who now seemed endeavouring to lay her long, shrivelled, fleshless arms on the beautiful girl who fled abhorrent from her clutches. Katherine seemed to be gathering her last strength for a final effort to escape her fiendish pursuer, when the old tree-legged soldier suddenly crossed her path, and interrupted her flight. “William! William! Oh save me, William!” she again screamed, as the old hag flung her withered arms around her, and appeared to be dragging her backwards. This sight was too much for William to bear; he threw away the mould with the last bullet in it, and was about to spring out of the circle, but just at that moment the clock struck twelve, and the whole implements of magical incantation, with the attendant phantoms, vanished from his sight, and he sunk exhausted to the ground.
A horseman now rode up to the circle on a black steed
