appalling, more hideous than the misery I now endure?”
“Know then,” continued the sorcerer, “that only on the night of the new moon, does she sleep the sleep of mortals; and then all the supernatural power which she inherits from the grave totally fails her. ’Tis then that thou must murder her.”
“How! murder her!” echoed Walter.
“Aye,” returned the old man calmly, “pierce her bosom with a sharpened dagger, which I will furnish thee with; at the same time renounce her memory for ever, swearing never to think of her intentionally, and that, if thou dost involuntarily, thou wilt repeat the curse.”
“Most horrible! yet what can be more horrible than she herself is?—I’ll do it.”
“Keep then this resolution until the next new moon.”
“What, must I wait until then?” cried Walter, “alas ere then, either her savage thirst for blood will have forced me into the night of the tomb, or horror will have driven me into the night of madness.”
“Nay,” replied the sorcerer, “that I can
