 The Vengeance of a Tree by Eleanor F. Lewis This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Tommy Aguilar Through the windows of Jim Daly's saloon in the little town, the setting sun streamed in yellow patches, lighting up the glasses scattered on the tables and the faces of several men who were gathered near the bar. Farmers mostly they were, but the sprinkling of shopkeepers while prominent among them was the village editor, and all were discussing a startling piece of news that had spread through the town and its surroundings. The tidings that Walter Steadman, a laborer on Albert Kelsey's ranch, had assaulted and murdered his employer's daughter, had reached them, and had spread universal horror among the people. A farmer declared that he had seen the deed committed as he walked through a neighboring lane, and having always been noted for his cowardice instead of running to the girl's aid, had hailed the party of miners who were returning from their midday meal through a field nearby. When they had reached the spot, however, where Steadman, as they supposed, had done his black bead, only the girl lay there in the stillness of death. Her murderer had taken the opportunity to fly. The party had searched the woods of the Kelsey estate, and just as they were nearing the house itself, the appearance of Walter Steadman, walking in a strangely unsteady manner toward it, made them quick in their pace. He was soon in custody, although he had protested his innocence of the crime, he had said that he had just seen the body himself on his way to the station, and that when they had found him, he was going to the house for help. But they had laughed at his story, and had flung him into the tiny, stifling calaboos of the town. What were their proofs? Walter Steadman, a young fellow of about twenty-six, had come from the city to their quiet town just when times were in their hardest in search of work. The most of the men living in the town were honest fellows doing their work faithfully when they could get it and when they had socially asked Steadman to have a drink with them. He had refused in rather scornful manner. That infernal city chap, he was called, and their hate and envy increased in strength when Albert Kelsey had employed him in preference to any of themselves. As time went on, the story of Steadman's admiration for Margaret Kelsey had gone afloat, with the added information that his employer's daughter had repulsed him, saying that she would not marry a common laborer. So Steadman, when this news reached his employer's ears, was discharged, and this, then, was his revenge. For them, these proofs were sufficient to pronounce him guilty, yet that afternoon a Steadman crouched on the floor of the Calaboose, grew hopeless in the knowledge that no one would believe his story, and that his undeserved punishment would be swift and sure. A tramp, boarding a freight car several miles from the town, led away from the spot where this crime had been committed, and knew that forever its shadow would follow him. From the tiny window of his prison, Walter Steadman, saw the red glow of the heavens that betokened the setting of the sun, so the red sun of his life was soon to set. A life that had been innocent of all crime, and that now was to be ended for a deed that he had never committed. Most prominent of all the visions that swept through his mind was that of Margaret Kelsey, lying as he had first found her, brushed from the hands of her murderer. But there was another of a more tender nature. How long he and Margaret had tried to keep her secret, until Walter could be promoted to a higher position, so that he could ask for her hand with no fear of the father's antagonism. Then came the remembrance of an afternoon meeting between the two in the woods of the Kelsey estate. How, just as they were parting, Walter had heard footsteps near them, and glancing sharply around, saw an evil, scowling, murderous face peering through the brush. He had started toward it, but the owner of the countenance had taken himself hurriedly off. The gossiping townspeople had misconstrued this romance, and when Albert Kelsey had heard of this cladestine meeting from the man who was later on to appear as a leader of the mob, and that he had discharged Steadman, they had believed that the young man had formally proposed and had been rejected, but justice had gone wrong as it had done innumerable times before and will again. An innocent man was to be hanged, even without the comfort of a trial, while the man who was guilty was free to wander where he would. That autumn night the darkness came quickly, and only the stars did their best to light the scene. A body of men, all masked and having as a leader one who had ever sent Steadman's arrival in town, cherished a secret hatred of the young man, dragged Steadman from the Calibus and tramped through the town, defying all, defying even God himself. Along the highway and into Farmer Brown's crosscut, they went, vigilantly guarding their prisoner who, with the lanterns lighting up his haggard face, walked among them with the lagging step of utter hopelessness. That's a good tree. The leader said, presently stopping and pointing out a spreading oak. When the slipknot was adjusted and Steadman had stepped onto the box, he added, If you've got anything to say, you'd better say it now. I am innocent. I swear before God. The doomed man answered, I never took the life of Margaret Kelsey. Give us your proof, jeered the leader. And when Steadman kept a despairing silence, he laughed shortly. Ready men, he gave the order. The box was kicked aside, and then only a writhing body swung to and fro in the gloom. In front of the men stood their leader, watching the contortions of the body with silently, I'll tell you a secret, boys, he said suddenly. I was after the poor murdered girl myself, a little chance I had. But by God, he had just as little. A pause then. He shunted this earth. Cut him down, you fellows. It's no use, son. I'll give up the blasted thing as a bad job. There's something queer about that to their tree. Do you see how its branches balance it? We have to cut the trunk nearly in two, but it won't come down. There's plenty of others around. We'll take one of them. I'd get that tree down, and yet the way the things stand would be risking a fellow's life to climb it. It's got the devil in it, sure. So the old farmer Brown shouldered his axe and made for another tree. His son following. They had sawed and chopped and chopped and sawed, and yet the tall white oak with its branches jutting out almost as regularly as if it had been done by the work of a machine stood straight and firm. Farmer Brown, well known for his weak cowardly spirit, who in beholding the murder of Albert Kelsey's daughter, had in his fright mistaken the criminal. Now, in his superstition, let the oak stand because its well-balanced position saved it from falling when other trees would have been down. And so this tree, the same one to which an innocent man had been hanged, was left for other work. It was a bleak, grainy night. Such a night as can be found only in Central California. The wind howled like a thousand demons and lashed the trees together in wild embraces. Now and then the weird hoot-hoot of an owl came softly from the distance in the lulls of the storm while the barking of coyotes woke the echoes of the hills into sounds like a keenish laughter. In the wind and rain, a man fought his path through the bush and into Farmer Brown's crosscut as the shortest way home. Suddenly he stopped, trembling, as if held by some unseen impulse. Before him rose the white oak, wavering and swaying in the storm. Good God! It's the tree I swung steadman from! He cried, and a strange fear thrilled him. His eyes were fixed on it, held by some undefinable fascination. Yes, there on one of the longest branches, a small piece of rope still dangled. And then, to the murderer's excited vision, this rope seemed to lengthen, to form at the end into a slipknot, a knot that encircled a purple neck while below it writhe and swayed the body of a man. Damn him! he muttered, starting towards the hanging form, as if about to help the rope in its work of strangulation. Will he forever follow me? And yet he deserved it, the black-hearted villain. He took her life! He never finished the sentence. The white oak, towering above him in its strength, seemed to grow like a frenzied living creature. There was a sudden splitting sound, then came a crash, and under the fallen tree lay steadman's murderer, crushed and mangled. From between the broken trunk and the stump that was left, a gray, dim shape sprang out and sped past the man's still form, away into the wild blackness of the night. End of The Vengeance of a Tree Recording by Tommy Aguilar A Voice from the Pit by Bernard Capes This is a LibriVax recording. All LibriVax recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVax.org Recording by Dan Grzinski A Voice from the Pit by Bernard Capes Senor, we are arrived! whispered the old man in my ear, and he put out a sudden cold hand, corded like melon-rind, to stay me in the stumbling darkness. We were on the tilted table-land of the mountain and looking forth and below the far indigo crescent of the bay where it swept towards Casa La Mer, seemed to rise up at me as if it were a perpendicular wall across which the white crests of the waves flew like ghost mods. We skirted a boulder and came upon a field of sleek purple lava sewn all over with little lemon jets of silent smoke, which in their wand and melancholy glow might have been the corpse-lights of those innumerable dead whose tombstone was the mountain itself. Far away to the right, the great projecting socket of the crater flickered intermittently with a nerve of fire. It was like the glinting of the watchful eye of some vast crustacean, and in that harsh and stupendous desolation seemed the final crown an expression of utter inhumanity. I started upon hearing the low whisper of my companion in my ear. In the bay yesterday the senor saved my life. I give the senor, in return, my life's secret. He seized my right hand and his left with a sinewy clutch and pointed a stiff finger at the luminous blots. See there, and there, and there, he shrilled, one floats and wavers like a spineless ribbon of seaweed in the water. Another burns with a steady radiance. A third blares from its fissure like a flame driven by the blowpipe. It is all a question of the underdraft, and some may feel it a little and some a little more or a little less. Ah, but I will show you one that feels it not at all. A hole. A narrow shaft that goes straight down into the pit of the great hell and is cold as the mouth of a barbel. The bones of his face stood out like rocks against sand and the pupils of his maniac eyes were glazed or fell into shadow as the volcano lightnings fluttered. Finally he drew me to a broken pile of sulfur rock lying tumbled against a ridge of the mountain that ran towards the crater. It lay heaped, effused in fantastic ruin, and in a moment the old man leapt from me and was tugging by main strength a vast fragment from its place. I leaned over his shoulder and looked down upon the hollow revealed by the displaced boulder. It was like the bell of a mighty trumpet and in the middle a puckered opening seemed to suck inwards as it were the mouth of some subterranean monster risen to the surface of the world for air. Quick, quick, the senor must place his ear to the hole. With a little odd stir at my heart I dropped upon my knees and leaned my head deep into the cup. I must have stayed thus for a full minute before I drew myself back and looked up at the old mountaineer. His eyes gazed down into mine with mad intensity. See, see! he whispered. What didst thou hear? I heard a long surging thunder pallow and the deep shrill screaming of many gas jets. He bent down with livid face. Senor, it is the booming of the everlasting fire. Thou hast heard the voices of the damned. No, my friend, no, but it is a marvelous transmission of the uproar of hidden forces. He leapt to the shallow pit. Listen and believe, he cried, and funnelling his hands about his lips, he stooped over the central hole. Marco, Marco! he screeched in a piercing voice. Something answered back. What was it? A malformed and twisted echo? A whistle of imprisoned steam tricked into some horrible caricature of a human voice? Paolo! it seemed to wail weak and faint with agony. Larqua! Larqua, Paolo! The old man sprang to his feet and, looking down upon me in a sort of terrible triumph, unsung a water flask from his belt and, pulling out the cork, poured the cold liquid down into the puckered orifice. Then I felt his clutch on my arm again. He drinks! he cried. Listen and thou wilt understand. I rose with a ghost of a laugh and once more addressed my ear to the opening. From unthinkable depths came up a strange gloating sound as from a ravenous throat made vibrant with ecstasy. Paolo! I cried as I rose and stood before him and there was an admonitoring note in my voice. A feather made decide the balance. Beware meddling with hidden thunders or thou mayest set rolling such another tombstone as that on which the fires are yet flaming. And he only answered me, sat and deathly. We of the mountains, senor, know more things than we may tell of. End of A Voice from the Pit by Bernard Capes The Werewolf by H. B. Marriott read by Daniel Davison. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and hear, please visit LibriVox.org The Werewolf My father was not born or originally a resident in the Hearts Mountains. He was a serf of an Hungarian nobleman of great possessions in Transylvania. But although a serf he was not by any means a poor or illiterate man. In fact he was rich and his intelligence and respectability were such that he had been raised by his lord ship. But whoever may happen to be born a serf, a serf must he remain, even though he become a wealthy man. Such was the condition of my father. My father had been married for about five years and by his marriage had three children. My eldest brother Caesar, myself, Herman and a sister named Marcella. Latin is still the language spoken in that country and that will account for our high sounding names. My mother was a very beautiful woman, unfortunately more beautiful than virtuous. She was seen and admired by the lord of the soil. My father was sent away upon some mission and during his absence my mother flattered by the attentions and won by the assiduities of this nobleman yielded to his wishes. It so happened that my father returned very unexpectedly and discovered the intrigue. The evidence of my mother's shame was positive. He surprised her in the company of her seducer. Carried away by the impetuosity of his feelings he watched the opportunity of a meeting taking place between them and murdered both his wife and her seducer. Conscious that as a serf, not even the provocation which he had received would be allowed as a justification of his conduct, he hastily collected together what money he could lay his hands upon and as we were then in the depth of winter he put his horses to the slay and taking his children with him he set off in the middle of the night and was far away before the tragical circumstance had transpired. Aware that he would be pursued and that he had no chance of escape if he remained in any portion of his native country in which the authorities could lay hold of him, he continued his flight without intermission until he had buried himself in the intricacies and seclusion of the Hearts Mountains. Of course all that I have now told you I learned afterwards my oldest recollections are knit to a rude yet comfortable cottage in which I lived with my father, brother and sister. It was on the confines of one of those vast forests which cover the northern part of Germany. Around it were a few acres of ground which during the summer months my father cultivated and which though they yielded a doubtful harvest were sufficient for our support. In the winter we remained much indoors for as my father followed the chase we were left alone and the wolves during the season incessantly proud about. My father had purchased the cottage and land about it of one of the rude foresters who gained their livelihood partly by hunting and partly by burning charcoal for the purpose of smelting the ore from the neighboring mines. It was distant, about two miles from any other habitation. I can call to mind the whole landscape now. The tall pines which rose up on the mountain above us and the wide expanse of forest beneath. On the top most boughs and heads of whose trees we looked down from our cottage as the mountain below us rapidly descended into the distant valley. In summertime the prospect was beautiful but during the severe winter a more desolate scene could not well be imagined. I said that in the winter my father occupied himself with the chase. Every day he left us and often would he lock the door that we might not leave the cottage. He had no one to assist him or to take care of us. Indeed it was not easy to find a female servant who would live in such a solitude. But could he have found one my father would not have received her for he had deprived a horror of the sex as a difference of his conduct toward us his two boys and my poor little sister Marcella evidently proved. You may suppose we were sadly neglected. Indeed we suffered much for my father fearful that we might come to some harm would not allow us fuel when he left the cottage and we were obliged therefore to creep under the heaps of bears skin and there to keep ourselves as warm as we could until he returned in the evening when a blazing fire was our delight. That my father chose this restless sort of life may appear strange but the fact was that he could not remain quiet whether from remorse for having committed murder or from the misery consequent on his change of situation or from both combined he was never happy unless he was in a state of activity children however when left much to themselves acquire a thoughtfulness not common to their age so it was with us and during the short cold days of winter we would sit silent longing for the happy hours when the snow would melt and the leaves burst out and the birds begin their songs and when we should again be set at liberty such was our peculiar and savage sort of life until my brother Caesar was nine myself seven and my sister five years old when the circumstances occurred on which is based the extraordinary narrative which I am about to relate one evening my father returned home rather later than usual he had been unsuccessful and as the weather was very severe and many feet of snow were upon the ground he was not only very cold but in a very bad humor he had brought in wood and we were all three of us gladly assisting each other in blowing on the embers to create the blaze when he caught poor little Marcella by the arm and through her side the child fell, struck her mouth and bled very much my brother ran to raise her up accustomed to ill usage and afraid of my father she did not dare to cry but looked up in his face very piteously my father drew his stool near to the hearth muttered something in abuse of women and busied himself with a fire which both my brother and I had deserted when our sister was so unkindly treated a cheerful blaze was soon the result of his exertions but we did not as usual crowd round it Marcella, still bleeding retired to a corner and my brother and I took our seats beside her while my father hung over the fire gloomily and alone such had been our position for about half an hour when the howl of a wolf close under the window of the cottage fell on our ears my father started up and seized his gun the howl was repeated he examined the priming and then hastily left the cottage shutting the door after him we all waited anxiously listening for we thought that if he succeeded in shooting the wolf he would return in a better humour and although he was harsh to all of us and particularly so to our little sister still we loved our father and loved to see him cheerful and happy for what else we spoke up to and I may here observe that perhaps there never were three children who were fonder of each other we did not like other children fight and dispute together and if by chance any disagreement did arise between my elder brother and me little Marcella would run to us and kissing us both sealed through her entreaties the peace between us Marcella was a lovely amiable child I can recall her beautiful even now a last poor little Marcella we waited for some time but the report of the gun did not reach us and my elder brother then said our father has followed the wolf and will not be back for some time Marcella let us wash the blood from your mouth and then we will leave this corner and go to the fire and warm ourselves we did so and remain there until near midnight every minute wondering as it grew later why our father did not return we had no idea that he was in any danger but we thought that he must have chased the wolf for a very long time I will look out and see if father is coming said my brother Caesar going to the door take care said Marcella the wolves must be about now and we cannot kill them brother my brother opened the door very cautiously and but a few inches he peeped out I see nothing said he after a time and once more he joined us at the fire we have had no supper said I for my father usually cooked the meat as soon as he came home and during his absence we had nothing but the fragments of the preceding day and if our father comes home after his hunt Caesar said Marcella he will be pleased to have some supper let us cook it for him and for ourselves Caesar climbed upon the stool and reached down some meat I forget now whether it was but we cut off the usual quantity and proceeded to dress it as we used to do under our father's superintendents we were all busy putting it into the platters before the fire to wait his coming when we heard the sound of a horn we listened there was a sound outside and a minute afterwards my father entered ushering in a young female and a large dark man in a hunter's dress perhaps I had better now relate what was only known to me many years afterwards when my father had left the cottage he perceived a large white wolf about 30 yards from him as soon as the animal saw my father it retreated slowly growling and snarling my father followed the animal did not run but always kept at some distance and my father did not like to fire until he was pretty certain that his ball would take effect thus they went on for some time the wolf now leaving my father far behind and then stopping and snarling defiance at him and then again on his approach setting off at speed anxious to shoot the animal for the white wolf is very rare my father continued the pursuit for several hours during which he continually ascended the mountain you must know that there are peculiar spots on those mountains which are supposed and as story will prove truly supposed to be inhabited by the evil influences they are well known to the huntsmen who invariably avoid them now one of these spots an open space in the pine forest above us had been pointed out to my father as dangerous on that account but whether he disbelieved these wild stories or whether in his eager pursuit of the chase he disregarded them I know not certain however it is that he was decoyed by the white wolf to this open space when the animal appeared to slacken her speed my father approached came close up to her raised his gun to his shoulder and was about to fire when the wolf suddenly disappeared he thought that the snow on the ground must have dazzled his sight and he let down his gun to look for the beast but she was gone how she could have escaped over the clearance without his seeing her was beyond his comprehension mortified at the ill success of his chase he was about to retrace his steps when he heard the distant sound of a horn astonishment at such a sound at such an hour in such a wilderness made him forget for the moment his disappointment and he remained riveted to the spot in a minute the horn was blown a second time and at no great distance my father stood still and listened a third time it was blown I forget the term used to express it but it was the signal which my father well knew implied that the party was lost in the woods in a few minutes more my father beheld a man on horseback with a female seated on the cropper enter the cleared space and ride up to him at first my father called to mind the strange stories which he had the supernatural beings who were said to frequent these mountains but the near approach of the parties satisfied him that they were mortals like himself as soon as they came up to him the man who guided the horse accosted him friend hunter you are out late the better fortune for us we have ridden far and are in fear of our lives which are eagerly sought after these mountains have enabled us to allude our pursuers but if we find not shelter in refreshment that will avail us little as we must perish from hunger and the inclemency of the night my daughter who rides behind me is now more dead than alive say can you assist us in our difficulty my cottage is some few miles distant replied my father but I have little to offer you besides the shelter from the weather to the little I have you are welcome may I ask when you come yes friend no secret now we have escaped from Transylvania where my daughter's honor and my life were equally in jeopardy this information was quite enough to raise an interest in my father's heart he remembered his own escape he remembered the loss of his wife's honor and the tragedy by which it was wound up he immediately and warmly offered all the assistance which he could afford them there is no time to be lost then good sir I observed the horseman my daughter is chilled with the frost and cannot hold out much longer against the severity of the weather follow me replied my father leading the way towards his home I was lured away in pursuit of a large white wolf observed my father it came to the very window of my hut or I should not have been out at this time of night the creature passed by us just as we came out of the wood said the female in a silvery tone lodging my peace at it observed the hunter but since it did us such good service I am glad that I allowed it to escape in about an hour and a half during which my father walked at a rapid pace the party arrived at the cottage and as I said before came in we are in good time apparently observed the dark hunter catching the smell of the roasted meat as he walked to the fire and surveyed my brother and sister and myself you have young cooks here mine here I am glad that we shall not have to wait replied my father come mistress seat yourself by the fire you require warmth after your cold ride and where can I put up my horse mine here observed the huntsman I will take care of him replied my father going out to the cottage door the female must however be particularly described she was young and apparently 20 years of age she was dressed in a traveling dress deeply bordered with white fur cap of white ermine on her head her features were very beautiful at least I thought so and so my father has since declared her hair was flaxen glossy and shining and bright as a mirror and her mouth although somewhat large when it was open showed the most brilliant teeth I have ever beheld but there was something about her eyes bright as they were which made us children afraid they were so restless so furtive I could not at that time tell why but I felt as if there was cruelty in her eye and when she beckoned us to come to her we approached her with fear and trembling still she was beautiful very beautiful she spoke kindly to my brother and myself patted our heads and caressed us but Marsala would not come near her on the contrary she slunk away and hid herself in the bed and would not wait for the supper which half an hour before she had been so anxious for my father having put the horse into a closed shed soon returned and supper was placed upon the table when it was over my father requested that the young lady would take possession of his bed and he would remain at the fire and sit up with her father after some hesitation on her part this arrangement was agreed to and I and my brother crept into the other bed with Marsala for we had as yet always slept together but we could not sleep there was something so unusual in seeing strange people but in having those people sleep at the cottage that we were bewildered as for poor little Marsala she was quiet but I perceived that she trembled during the whole night and sometimes I thought that she was checking a sob my father had brought out some spirits which he rarely used and he and the strange hunter remained drinking and talking before the fire our ears were ready to catch the sightest whisper so much was our curiosity excited you said you came from Transylvania observed my father even so my hair replied the hunter I was a serf to the noble house of blank my master would insist upon my surrendering up my fair girl to his wishes it ended in my giving him a few inches of my hunting knife we are countrymen and brothers in misfortune replied my father taking the huntsman's hand and pressing it warmly indeed are you then from that country yes and I too have fled for my life but mine is a melancholy tale your name inquired the hunter Kranz what? Kranz of blank I have heard of your tale you need not renew your grief by repeating it now welcome most welcome my hair and I may say my worthy kinsmen I am your second cousin Alfred of Barnsdorf cried the hunter rising up and embracing my father they filled their horn mugs to the brim and drank to one another after the German fashion the conversation was then carried on in a low tone all that we could collect from it was that our new relative and his daughter were to take up their abode in our cottage at least for the present in about an hour they both fell back in their chairs and appeared to sleep Marsala dear did you hear said my brother in a low tone yes replied Marsala in a whisper I heard all oh brother I cannot bear to look upon that woman I feel so frightened my brother made no reply and shortly afterwards we were all three fast asleep when we woke the next morning we found that the hunter's daughter had risen before us I thought she looked more beautiful than ever she came up to little Marsala and caressed her the child burst into tears and sobbed as if her heart would break but not to detain you with too long a story the huntsman and his daughter were accommodated in the cottage my father and he went out hunting daily leaving Christina with us she performed all the household duties was very kindly to us children and gradually the dislike even of little Marsala wore away but a great change took place in my father he appeared to have conquered his aversion to the sex and was most attentive to Christina often after her father and we were in bed would he sit up with her conversing in a low tone by the fire I ought to have mentioned that my father and the huntsman Wilfred slept in another portion of the cottage and that the bed which he formerly occupied and which was in the same room as ours had been given up to the use of Christina these visitors had been about three weeks at the cottage when one night after we children had been sent to bed a consultation was held my father had asked Christina in marriage and had obtained both her own consent and that of Wilfred after this a conversation took place which was as nearly as I can recollect as follows you may take my child mine here Krantz and my blessing with her and I shall then leave you and seek some other habitation it matters little where why not remain here Wilfred no no I am called elsewhere let that suffice and ask no more questions you have my child I thank you for her and will duly value her but there is one difficulty I know what you would say there is no priest here in this wild country true neither is there any law to bind still must some ceremony pass between you to satisfy a father will you consent to marry her after this fashion if so I will marry you directly I will replied my father then take her by the hand now mine here swear I swear repeated my father by all the spirits of the hearts mountains nay why not by heaven interrupted my father because it is not my humor rejoined Wilfred if I prefer that oath less binding perhaps than another surely you will not well be it so then have your humor will you make me swear by that in which I do not believe yet many do so who in outward appearance are Christians rejoined Wilfred say will you be married or shall I take my daughter away with me proceed replied my father impatiently I swear by all the spirits of the hearts mountains by all the power for good or for evil that I take Christina for my wedded wife that I will ever protect her cherish her and love her that my hand shall never be raised against her to harm her my father repeated the words after Wilfred and if I fail in this my vow may all the vengeance of the spirits fall upon me and upon my children may they perish by the vulture by the wolf or other beasts of the forest may their flesh be removed from their limbs and their bones blanch in the wilderness all this I swear my father hesitated as he repeated the last words little Marcella could not restrain herself and as my father repeated the last sentence she burst into tears this sudden interruption appeared to discompose the party particularly my father he spoke harshly to the child who controlled her sobs burying her face under the bed clothes much was the second marriage of my father the next morning the hunter Wilfred mounted his horse and rode away my father resumed his bed which was in the same room as ours and things went on much as before the marriage except that our new mother-in-law did not show any kindness towards us indeed during my father's absence she would often beat us particularly little Marcella and her eyes would flash fire as she looked eagerly upon the fair one night my sister awoke me and my brother what is the matter, said Caesar she has gone out, whispered Marcella gone out? yes, gone out at the door in her night-clothes replied the child I saw her get out of bed look at my father to see if he slept and then she went out at the door what could induce her to leave her bed and all undressed to go out in such bitter wintery weather with snow deep on the ground incomprehensible we lay awake and in about an hour we heard the growl of a wolf close under the window there's a wolf, said Caesar she will be toned to pieces oh no, cried Marcella in a few minutes afterwards our mother-in-law appeared she was in her night-dress as Marcella had stated she let down the latch of the door so as to make no noise went to a pail of water and washed her face in hands slipped into the bed where my father lay we all three trembled we hardly knew why but we resolved to watch the next night we did so and not only on the ensuing night but on many others and always at about the same hour would our mother-in-law rise from her bed and leave the cottage and after she was gone we invariably heard the growl of a wolf under our window and all we saw her on her return was herself before she retired to bed we observed also that she seldom sat down to meals and that when she did she appeared to eat with dislike but when the meat was taken down to be prepared for dinner she would often furtively put a raw piece into her mouth my brother Caesar was a courageous boy he did not like to speak to my father until he knew more he resolved that he would follow her out and ascertain what she did and I endeavored to dissuade him from this project but he would not be controlled and the very next night he lay down in his clothes and as soon as our mother-in-law had left the cottage he jumped up, took down my father's gun and followed her you may imagine in what a state of suspense Marsala and I remained during his absence after a few minutes we heard the report of a gun he did not awaken my father and we lay trembling with anxiety in a minute afterwards we saw our mother-in-law enter the cottage her dress was bloody I put my hand to Marsala's mouth to prevent her crying out although I was myself in great alarm our mother-in-law approached my father's bed looked to see if he was asleep and then went to the chimney and blew up the embers into a blaze who was there said my father waking up lie still dearest replied my mother-in-law it is only me I have lighted the fire to warm some water I am not quite well my father turned round and was soon asleep but we watched our mother-in-law she changed her linen and threw the garment she had worn into the fire and we then perceived that her right leg was bleeding profusely as if from a gunshot wound she bandaged it up and then dressing herself remained before the fire poor little Marsala her heart beat quick as she pressed me to her side so indeed did mine where was our brother Caesar how did my mother-in-law receive the wound unless from his gun at last my father rose and then for the first time I spoke saying father where is my brother Caesar your brother explained he why where can he be merciful heaven I thought as I lay restless last night observed our mother-in-law heard somebody open the latch of the door and dear me husband what has become of your gun my father cast his eyes above the chimney and perceived that his gun was missing for a moment he looked perplexed then seizing a broad axe he went out of the cottage without saying another word he did not remain away from us long in a few minutes he returned bearing in his arms the mangled body of my poor brother he laid it down and covered up his face my mother-in-law rose up and looked at the body while Marsala and I threw ourselves by its side wailing and sobbing bitterly go to bed again children said she sharply husband continued she your boy must have taken the gun down to shoot a wolf and the animal has been too powerful for him poor boy he has paid dearly for his rashness my father made no reply I wished to speak to tell all Marsala who perceived my intention held me by the arm and looked at me so imploringly that I desisted my father therefore was left in his air but Marsala and I although we could not comprehend it were conscious that our mother-in-law was in some way connected with my brother's death that day my father went out and dug a grave and when he laid the body in the earth he piled up stones over it so that the wolves should not be able to dig it up the shock of this catastrophe was to my poor father very severe for several days he never went to the chase although at times he would utter bitter anathemas and vengeance against the wolves but during this time of mourning on his part my mother-in-law's nocturnal wanderings continued with the same regularity as before at last my father took down his gun to repair to the force but he soon returned and appeared annoyed would you believe it Christina the wolves petitioned to the whole race have actually contrived to dig up the body of my poor boy now there is nothing left of him but his bones indeed replied my mother-in-law Marsala looked at me and I saw in her intelligent eye all that she would have uttered a wolf growls under our window every night father said I I indeed why did you not tell me boy wake me the next time you hear it I saw my mother-in-law turn away her eyes flashed fire and she gnashed her teeth my father went out again and covered up with a large pile of stones the little remnants of my poor brother which the wolves had spared such was the first act of the tragedy the spring now came on the snow disappeared and we were permitted to leave the cottage but never would I quit for one moment my dear little sister to whom since the death of my brother I was more ardently attached than ever indeed I was afraid to leave her alone with my mother-in-law who appeared to have a particular pleasure in ill treating the child my father was now employed upon his little farm and I was able to render him some assistance Marsala used to sit by us while we were at work leaving my mother-in-law alone in the cottage I ought to observe that as the spring advanced so did my mother decrease her nocturnal rambles and that we never heard the growl of the wolf under the window after I had spoken of it to my father one day when my father and I were in the field Marsala being with us my mother-in-law came out saying that she was going into the forest to collect some herbs my father wanted and that Marsala must go to the cottage and watch the dinner Marsala went and my mother-in-law soon disappeared in the forest taking a direction quite contrary to that in which the cottage stood and leaving my father and I as it were between her and Marsala about an hour afterwards we were startled by shrieks from the cottage evidently the shrieks of little Marsala Marsala has bunt herself father said I throwing down my spade my father threw down his and we both hastened to the cottage before we could gain the door out darted a large white wolf which fled with the utmost celerity my father had no weapon he rushed into the cottage and there saw poor little Marsala expiring her body was dreadfully mangled and the blood pouring from it had formed a large pool on the cottage floor my father's first intention had been to seize his gun and pursue but he was checked by this horde spectacle he note down by his dying child and burst into tears Marsala could just look kindly on us for a few seconds and then her eyes were closed in death my father and I were still hanging over my poor sisters body when my mother-in-law came in at the dreadful site she expressed much concern but she did not appear to recoil from the side of blood as most women do poor child said she it must have been that great white wolf which passed me just now and frightened me so she's quite dead crunts I know it I know it cried my father in agony I thought my father would never recover from the effects of the second tragedy he mourned bitterly over the body of his sweet child and for several days would not consign it to its grave although frequently requested by my mother-in-law to do so at last he yielded and dug a grave for her close by that of my poor brother and took every precaution that the wolves should not violate her remains I was now really miserable as I lay bed which I had formally shared with my brother and sister I could not help thinking that my mother-in-law was implicated in both their deaths although I could not account for the manner but I no longer felt afraid of her my little heart was full of hatred and revenge the night after my sister had been buried as I lay awake I perceived my mother-in-law get up and go out of the cottage I waited for some time then dressed myself and looked out through the door which I half opened the moon shone bright and I could see the spot where my brother and my sister had been buried and what was my horror when I perceived my mother-in-law busily removing the stones from Marsala's grave she was in her white nightdress and the moon shone full upon her face she was digging with her hands and throwing away the stones behind her with all the ferocity of a wild beast it was some time before I could collect my senses and decide what I should do at last I perceived that she had arrived at the body and raised it up to the side of the grave I could bear it no longer I ran to my father and awoke him father father cried I dress yourself and get your gun what cried my father the wolves are there are they he jumped out of bed threw on his clothes and in his anxiety did not appear to perceive the absence of his wife as soon as he was ready I opened the door he went out and I followed him imagine his horror when unprepared as he was for such a sight he beheld as he advanced towards the grave not a wolf but his wife in her nightdress on her hands and knees crouching by the body of my sister and tearing off large pieces of the flesh and devouring them with all the avidity of a wolf she was too busy to be aware of our approach my father dropped his gun his hair stood on end so did mine he breathed heavily and then his breath for a time stopped I picked up the gun and put it into his hand suddenly he appeared as if concentrated rage had restored him to double vigor he leveled his peace fired and with a loud shriek down fell the wretch whom he had fostered in his bosom god of heaven cried my father sinking down upon the earth in a swoon as soon as he had discharged his gun I remained sometime by his side before he recovered where am I said he what has happened oh yes yes I recollect now heaven forgive me he rose and we walked up to the grave what again was our astonishment and whore to find that instead of the dead body of my mother-in-law as we had expected there was lying over the remains of my poor sister a large white she-wolf the white wolf exclaimed my father the white wolf which decoied me into the forest I see it all now I have dealt with the spirits of the heart's mountains for some time my father remained in silence and deep thought he then carefully lifted up the body of my sister replaced it in the grave and covered it over as before having struck the head of the dead animal with the heel of his boot and raving like a madman he walked back to the cottage shut the door and threw himself on the bed I did the same for I was in a stupor of amazement early in the morning we were both roused by a loud knocking at the door and in rushed the hunter Velfred my daughter, man my daughter where is my daughter cried he in a rage where the wretch the fiend should be I trust replied my father starting up and displaying equal collar where she should be in hell leave this cottage or you may fare worse ha ha replied the hunter would you harm a potent spirit of the heart's mountains the mortal who must needs wedder werewolf out demon I defy thee in thy power yet shall you feel it remember your oath your solemn oath never to raise your hand against her to arm her I made no compact with evil spirits you did and if you failed in your vow you were to meet the vengeance of the spirits your children were to perish by the vulture the wolf out out demon and the bones the ranch in the wilderness my father frantic with rage seized his axe and raised it over Velfred's head to strike all this I swear continued the huntsman mockingly the axe descended but it passed through the form of the hunter and my father lost his balance and fell heavily on the floor mortal said the hunter striding over my father's body we have power over those only who have committed murder who have been guilty of a double murder you shall pay the penalty attached to your marriage vow two of your children are gone the third is yet to follow and follow them he will for your oath is registered go it were kindness to kill thee your punishment is that you live end of the werewolf by H.B. Marriott this is a LibriVox recording are in the public domain