at Distributed Proofreaders:

…his words had gone to her heart, and she remembered how he had embraced her when she first encountered him in the church. His manners, too, were so mild, so kind, so paternal toward her; and yet he seemed but a few years older than herself.

“You have gazed upon the portrait of the old man,” he continued, “as he appeared on that memorable evening which sealed his fate!”

Agnes started wildly.

“Yes, sealed his fate, but spared him his life!” said the unknown, emphatically. “As he is represented in that picture, so was he sitting mournfully over the sorry fire, for the morrow’s renewal of which there was no wood! At that hour a man appeared — appeared in the midst of the dreadful storm which burst over the Black Forest. This man’s countenance is now known to thee; it is perpetuated in the other portrait to which I directed thine attention.”"There is something of a wild and fearful interest in the aspect of that man.” said Agnes, casting a shuddering glance behind her, and trembling lest the canvas had burst into life, and the countenance whose lineaments were depicted thereon was peering over her shoulder.

“Yes, and there was much of wild and fearful interest in his history,” was the reply; “but of that I cannot speak—no, I dare not. Suffice it to say that he was a being possessed of superhuman powers, and that he proffered his services to the wretched—the abandoned—the deserted Wagner. He proposed to endow him with a new existence—to restore him to youth and manly beauty—to make him rich—to embellish his mind with wondrous attainments—to enable him to cast off the wrinkles of age—-”"Holy Virgin! now I comprehend it all!” shrieked Agnes, throwing herself at the feet of her companion: “and you—you—-”"I am Fernand Wagner!” he exclaimed, folding her in his embrace.

“And can you pardon me, can you forgive my deep—deep ingratitude?” cried Agnes.

“Let us forgive each other!” said Wagner. “You can now understand the meaning of the inscription beneath my portrait. ‘His last day thus’ signifies that it was the last day on which I wore that aged, decrepit, and sinking form.”"But wherefore do you say, ‘Let us forgive each other?’” demanded Agnes, scarcely knowing whether to rejoice or weep at the marvelous transformation of her grandsire.

“Did I not ere now inform thee that thou wast forgotten until accident threw thee in my way to-night?” exclaimed Fernand. “I have wandered about the earth and beheld all the scenes which are represented in those pictures—ay, and many others equally remarkable. For eighteen months I was the servant—and slave of him who conferred upon me this fatal
boon—-”

“At what price, then, have you purchased it?” asked Agnes, with a cold shudder.

…

From the scans of our copy of Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf by George W. M. Reynolds, c. 1875 — an edition substantially different from that produced by Dover.