 In this cave, by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past, stories, strange, and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. This is Weird Circle Time at the Ogden's Playhouse. Tonight we are to hear a radio adaptation of the Frederick Marriott story, The Werewolf. There is an eerie and unusual atmosphere to this story which makes it a good choice for this weird circle series. It's a story that recommends itself for good listening. In its own field, Ogden's fine-cut tobacco is the recommended choice for good smoking when rolling your own cigarettes. There's no substitute for quality. That's why Ogden's wins consistent top preference. Ogden's is the choice of smokers who demand the best. Try a package. You'll find Ogden's easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Yes, easy to roll, delightful to smoke. And now our story, The Werewolf by Frederick Marriott. Out of the past, phantoms of a world gone by, speak again the immortal tale, The Werewolf. Don't be frightened. It's only our neighbor's dog, bang at the mo- Go to sleep. You are safe here with my husband and me. Where are you, good wife? Here. Shhh. The boy's trying to sleep. What news of his father? Peace to his soul. He was raving mad by the time I got him to the hospital. It was brain fever. How's the boy? Poor little lad. He says they walked all the way from the heart's mountains, and he's only eleven. He was starved, ate his supper as if he'd never seen food. There's tragedy back of all this good wife, and the boy stopped me on the road and asked for help. There was terror in his eyes. Quiet, boy. Quiet. Nothing to fear. You are safe here by the sea. There are no wolves here. Just lie quietly, boy. I want to talk to you. Yes, sir. By what name are you called? Herman. Herman Kynes. Well, Herman, I'm afraid I have sad news for you. My father is dead? Yes. That is not sad news. I thank heaven. What? Why? Because my father is free of the evil one and his curse. Now there's only me. But I must go. I must hurry. I must get far away from the forest and the mountains. Oh, lie back, child. Wait a bit. There are no mountains or forests here. Only the calm sea. What do you fear, Herman? Let me sit beside you. Don't be afraid. You... you kissed me. Is that so strange? What? It is very strange. You're kind and good, and yet you are a woman. Poor motherless little one. It might help you lose some of your fears, boy, if you told us something about yourself. You were born in the Hearts Mountains? No, my near. We lived in Hungary on the state of a great noble. My father was stored. And what about your mother? She ran away from us when we were very small. My brother Caesar said it was because of her that my father killed his noble lord. Oh, I see. Now go on with your tale. Father took all the money we owned and put us in the sleigh. We drove fast and far until we were out of Hungary. Then he bought a cottage among the tall furs deep in the Hearts Mountains. And there we grew up. Your brother and you? And our little sister, Marcella. We loved her very much. Weren't you very lonely? Well, the winters were long and dark. Father went hunting every day but shut us indoors for safety from the wolves. He also forbade us to light the fire so we used to creep under heaps of bear skins to keep warm. We'd talk of that happy time when the snow would melt, the leaves burst out, the birds sing again, and we could go outdoors and play in our garden. A sad life for children. No, not sad. We were happy with each other, we three, until... Yes, Herman, until? The howl of wolf. Father had come from his hunting and had kindled a fire. And we were sitting around it when suddenly a wolf howled close under the window. My father seized his gun, looked to the priming, and ran out, shutting the door behind him. We waited hours. And it was nearly midnight when my brother's Caesar went to the door. I've heard no report of a gun. Father must have chased the wolf a long way. Or else? Oh, no! Father's all right, Marcella. I will look out and see if he's coming. Take care, Caesar. The wolves may be close and we cannot kill them. I'll be careful. I see nothing but moonlight and snow. Come in, Caesar. Father will come when he can. We've had no supper, but we'll be punished if we do not wait. Father will be glad to have food ready. Let's cook it for him and for ourselves. Very well. I'll get down some venison. But, Marcella, can you dress it? Surely. Haven't I often helped, Father? Get the iron pot, Herman. There. I've cut off lots of slices. Now, put the fat in the pot. Oh, be careful of the fire, little sister. Look out the window, Herman. Someone's coming. It's Father. And there's a man with him leading a horse. Yes, and there's a lady in the saddle. See how the moon shines on her white face and that lovely flaxen hair? I'm frightened. Why, Sister Darling? She's beautiful. Hold up! Hold up! Caesar, open the door. We have guests. Enter good, sir. I have little to offer, but you and your daughter are welcome. Friend Hunter, it was good fortune for us that you were out so late. We had ridden far in fear of our lives. And we would have died of cold and hunger in those mountains had you not heard our horn and saved us. Come, Mistress, seat yourself by the fire. The warmth is pleasant. And the smell of food is pleasant to still. You have young cooks here, mine here. Yes, these are my children, Caesar, Herman and Marcella. Welcome, sir. We have supper already, Father. Before I eat, I must put up my horse. Oh, I will take care of him. Let me go with you. You needn't trouble, but if you like, come along. I have a shed outside. What fine boys you are. Come close to me. Good, strong arm and sturdy shoulder. Why do you tremble, lad? You are so white and shining. There's no reason to fear me. You're a stranger. I'm not strange. We should be friends, hmm? But where's the little girl? She's afraid. I think she's hidden herself in bed. Gone to bed without any supper? She must have been a bad little girl. She is not bad, lady. No, she's good. You say you were lured away by a large white wolf which howled at this very window? Yes. I saw it about 30 yards off. The animal retreated slowly and I followed. I didn't like to fire until I was sure that my shot would take effect. Oh, white wolf. Of course you were anxious to shoot such a very rare animal. The wolf would leave me far behind then stop and snarl defiance at me. Then start off at speed again as I neared it. It led me further and further up the mountain to an open space in the forest. And there it stopped and growled. I raised my gun to shoot when suddenly the wolf disappeared. Disappeared? How strange. I thought the moonlight on the snow was playing me some trick. But no, she was gone. That's when I heard your horn. The creature passed us just as we came out of the woods into that blade. I nearly shot it myself. But since she led you to our rescue I glad I let the wolf escape. Father, that open glade is the home of the evil ones. Evil ones? What does the boy mean? Oh, superstition has it that strange and wicked beings haunt these mountains. Oh, I must hear more of these legends. Evil spirits interest me. I confess I was glad to see that you were mortals. My daughter Christine and I are just creatures of flesh and blood. Yes, I assure you I'm only a woman with very human appetites. And right now I have a great desire for sleep. My father made room for all of us and we crept into our beds. But we couldn't sleep. Father and the strange hunter sat up all night before the fire drinking and talking. Our ears were ready to catch the slightest whisper. You say you come from Hungary? Even so, my hair. I served a noble house when Master was cruel. It ended in my giving him a few inches of my hunting life. So we fled for our lives. Well, we are countrymen then and brothers in misfortune. I too have fled for my life. Your name, man? Krantz. What? Krantz. I have heard your story. I am your kinsman, Wilfred of Bonsdorf. Well, a toast then to welcome you cousin. You and your daughter as long as you choose. So the huntsman and his daughter Christine stayed on in the cottage. The two men hunted each day and Christine stayed with us and did the household duties. Father was becoming very attentive to Christine. They would often sit up at night talking in low tones before the fire. Then several weeks later we learned that Father had asked Christine in marriage. You may take my child, Krantz, and my blessing with her. I will duly value her. But there is no priest in this wild country. Well, there must be some ceremony between you two satisfied Father. Will you, will you both consent that I marry you after my own fashion? I will. I will. Then take her by the hand and swear, I swear, by all the spirits of the hearts mountain. May, may, why not by heaven? Because it is not my humor. Surely you will not thwart me. Yes, but why swear by that in which I do not believe? Father, no, please don't marry her. Please still, Marcella. Is there scarcely any affair of yours, child? Well, will you be married or shall I take my daughter away with me? Proceed. Here is the oath, writ out on this parchment. Read it. And swear. By all the spirits of the hearts mountains I take Christine for my wedded wife. I will ever cherish and love her. My hand shall never be raised to harm her. 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 voucher or by the beasts of the forest. Why, why, this is horrible. I, I can't swear, swear. Or, all this I, I swear. The strange behavior from your children, my husband, on our wedding night. Stop crying, Marcella. I'm sorry, Christine. Never mind, my dear husband. I'm not angry. But from now on the children are my concern. They shall obey me. And I shall love the little darlings. Friends, the legend of the werewolf is one that has lived a long time in the pages of classical folklore. Many of you are familiar with the legend and no doubt many of you have a preconceived idea of what comprises the climax to tonight's weird circle story. Roll your own cigarette smokers everywhere know that there isn't any legend to the story of smoking satisfaction when your choice of tobacco is Ogden's fine cut and you know what to expect every time you light a cigarette roll with Ogden's. You're certain there can be only one result. Complete smoking enjoyment. There's a smooth goodness to Ogden's a distinctive taste and uniform quality that makes Ogden's O-G-D-E-N apostrophe S Ogden's fine cut tobacco the leading choice of people everywhere discerning roll your own cigarette smokers who insist on the very best. Try Ogden's and your sure-of-top flight smoking satisfaction. You'll agree that Ogden's is easy to roll delightful to smoke. Yes, easy to roll delightful to smoke. And now back to our story. Krantz, a fugitive from Hungarian cruelty had fled with his small children Caesar, Herman and Marcella to a rude hut deep in the heart's mountains. One winter night while pursuing a white wolf Krantz is hailed by a stranger and his beautiful daughter Christine who were lost in the mountains. He invites them to his humble home and being glad for the good company he thinks there will be he begs them to stay on as his guests for as long as they choose. In the days that follow Krantz falls in love with the beautiful Christine and though his little daughter cries out in fearful premonition of things to come he marries her in a strange pagan ceremony. The next morning Wilfred the hunter mounted his horse and rode away. Things went on much as before the marriage except that Christine showed us no kindness now. She often struck us and took special pleasure in ill-treating Marcella. One night my little sister shook us as we slept. Yeah brother, wake up Herman. What's the matter Marcella? She's gone out. Gone out? Yes in her night clothes. I saw her get out of bed then she looked at father to make sure he still was asleep. Then she went out the door. A wolf. She'll be torn to pieces. Oh no, much as I hate her that would be too horrible. What kind of made her go out all undressed in the deep snow? She's strange. She's dreadful. Her eyes flash fire when I look at me. Her teeth are like an animal. She certainly eats querily. Have you noticed she doesn't like to sit at the table? While getting supper I've seen her tear at a piece of meat that wasn't even cooked. There she is in the firelight. She's in her white night dress. Washing her face and hands in the water pail. Father hasn't even waked up. Shh! She's going back to bed. We might as well go to sleep now but we'll watch again tomorrow night. The next night and every night our stepmother rose from bed and left the cottage and every night the wolf howled under our windows and always on a return, Christine washed herself then crept back to bed and always my father slept soundly. Well, the time came when my brother could stand it no longer. Caesar, why have you come to bed all fully dressed? I'm going to find out about these midnight walks. You'll tell Father? Not until I know where she goes and what she does. Caesar, you don't mean that you... Yes, tonight I'm going to follow her. No, Caesar, please don't. Please don't. I'm afraid. I know you're brave but I wish you wouldn't go, brother. I'm going now. There's no use talking. Shh! She's getting up now. Quiet, you two. There she goes to the door. Be careful, Caesar. Be careful. Father's gun. Oh, I'm so frightened. So am I. I'm shaking all over. I wonder how long we'll have to wait. A shot. Father will surely wait now and find out about her. He's still asleep. Someone's coming. Oh, I hope... It's not Caesar. It's Christine. Shh! Marcella, her dress is all covered with blood. Now what's she doing? Who's there? Lie still, dearest. It's only me. Oh. I'm just relighting the fire to warm some water. Hurry back, Christine Wine. You should be asleep at this time of night. We watched our stepmother change her linen and burn the garlands. Her leg was bleeding. She bandaged it and sat before the fire. But where was Caesar? And how did Christine get the wound unless from his gun? Oh, trembling in our bed we waited. Waited till dawn. Father awoke. Father! What is it, Herman? Father, where is my brother, Caesar? What do you mean, son? Oh, he went out in the night. Marcella and I waited for him. He's not come back. Merciful heaven. I was restless last night and thought I heard someone lift the latch. Dear me, husband, what has become of your gun? A gun? Great heaven, it's gone. Caesar took it. Herman, get me the broadaxe. I'm going to find Caesar. Oh, why didn't Caesar go out? What has happened to him? Be still. Your whimpering will not help. Here comes your father now. Father scurrying. Caesar is torn to pieces. Oh. Clear the table. The body of my oldest son. Take his face. It's fire, children. Herman, don't go out. Husband, your boy must have taken the gun to shoot a wolf. The animal must have been too powerful for him. Poor boy. At that terrible moment, I wanted to tell father all we knew, but Marcella held my arm and looked so imploringly at me that I kept silent. She and I were sure that Christine had some connection with our brother's death. Father dug a grave and piled stones on it, and for days he just sat and stared at the fire morning for Caesar. Our stepmother's wanderings continued. One day, father again took down his gun to go hunting, but soon returned. Would you believe it, Christine? The wolves petitioned to the whole breed of dug up the body of my poor boy, and there's nothing left of him but bones. Indeed. Then you must build a new grave. Father, a wolf howls under our window every night. Why didn't you tell me? Wake me the next time you hear it. I'll get that wolf. Have you not yet learned that it is safest to leave wolves alone? My Christine, your eyes are wild and you're almost snarling at me. But I'm so afraid for you, dear husband. We never heard the wolf howl under our window again. Well, when it last spring came, and I helped my father with our small farm, Marcella was always with us, for we couldn't bear to have her out of our sight. Our stepmother stopped going out on her and nightly rambled. One day, she came out to us and said she was going to collect some herbs father wanted and that Marcella must go to the cottage to watch the dinner. Well, Marcella obeyed, and we saw my stepmother disappear into the forest in the opposite direction. So, felt no danger for my little sister. But, about an hour later... Marcella! She's burned herself! Run, Herman, run! Great heaven! Look, the white wolf! Sinking out of our cottage! Kill it, father! I have no gun! We're too late. It's gone. Oh, my little Marcella! The wolf has hurt her terribly. She's bleeding, father. She's dying. Marcella! Marcella, my darling! Speak to me! What's wrong? Oh, how horrible. Poor child. Oh, it must have been that great white wolf which passed me just now. And frightened me so. She's quite dead. Oh, my poor husband. How horrible. How horrible. We dug a grave for my darling little sister, and did everything we could to protect it against wolves. I was alone now. So, so awfully alone. But no longer afraid of my stepmother. My heart was full of hate and revenge. That very night I saw Christine get up and go out of the cottage. I dressed quickly and half opened the door. The moon was very bright, and I could see Marcella's grave. I saw something else. Something so horrible that I turned cold in my heart and ran to wake my father. Father, father get up and dress hurry. What? The wolves again? I'll be right there. Get my gun. I have it, father. Come. Herman, stop. Who is that crouching on Marcella's grave? What? Christine? Yes, in her white night dress. She's digging with her hands. She's throwing the stones behind her. Her face is as cruel as a wild beast. Oh, she's destroying Marcella's grave. Your gun, father, shield. Yes, my son, yes. Pray that my hand holds steady. Heaven forgive me. I have killed my beautiful Christine. No. Now look, father. The body on Marcella's grave. The body you've killed is not my stepmother. It's not Christine. No. No, it's the white wolf. The white wolf which lured me into the forest. The white wolf that killed my children. Boy, I see it all now. My oath. My oath to the spirits of the heart's mountain. I owe the spirits of the heart's mountain. I take Christine for my wedded wife. I will ever cherish and love her. My hand shall never be raised to harm her. 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 or by the beasts of the forest. Poor fool mortal who had a wheel. Your beautiful Christine, a wheel. A wheel. Stop, demon! Stop! I shall go mad! Come, my son, my little hermit. You at least may escape this awful curse. We must flee through our lives, away from these evil forests to the sea. There you'll be safe, my son. There you will be safe. Time-worn pages of the past. We have brought you the werewolves. They'll keep her whole. There will be another weird circle presentation at the Ogden's Playhouse next week at this same time. This is your invitation to join our story circle for a half hour of unusual radio entertainment. Meanwhile, remember the name Ogden's when in need of a cigarette tobacco. It's a name you won't forget after trying a cigarette rolled with this choice tobacco. Men who know a quality smoke prefer Ogden's. You too will prefer Ogden's after tasting its unequaled goodness. You'll find Ogden's easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Yes, easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Next week at this time, another weird circle story, The Old Nurse's Tale by Elizabeth Gaskell. Be sure to listen. If you smoke a pipe, try Ogden's Cut Plug. It's a rich, smooth pipe tobacco.