rummage in those old Chronicles which Cyprian had told me were the very treasure-houses of the diabolical; but I admit that it all turned out quite differently from what I had expected."

"I can fully confirm that," said Theodore. "I can assure you it is astonishing, and most delicious, the way in which the Devil and the gruesomest witch-trials adapt themselves to the mental bent and style of the author of 'Nutcracker and the King of Mice.' Just let me tell you, dear Ottmar, how I chanced to lay my hands upon an experimental essay on this subject of our doughty Lothair's. He had just left me one day when I was getting to be strong enough to creep about the room a little, and I found, upon the table where he had been writing, the truly remarkable book entitled 'Haftitii Michrochronicon Berlinense,' open at the page where, inter alia, occurs what follows:--

"'Ye Divell, in this year of Grace, appeared bodily in ye streets of Berlin, and attended funerals, conducting himself thereat sorrowfullie,' &c., &c., &c.

"You will see, my dear Ottmar, that this entertaining piece of intelligence was of a nature to delight me immensely; but some pages in Lothair's handwriting delighted me still more. In those he had welded up the accounts of this curious conduct of the Devil with a horrible case of misbirth, and a gruesome trial for witchcraft, into an ensemble of the most delightful and entertaining description. I have got those pages here; I brought them in my pocket to amuse you with them."

He took them out of his pocket and handed them to Ottmar.

"What!" cried Lothair, "the affair which I styled 'Some Account of the Life of a Well-known Character,' which I thought was torn up and destroyed long ago--the abortive product of a fit of capricious fancy; can it be that you have captured that from me and kept it, to bring me into discredit with persons of taste and culture? Here with the wretched piece of scribbling, that I may tear it up and scatter it to the winds of heaven."

"No, no," cried Theodore; "you must read it to Ottmar, as a penance for what you inflicted on me in my illness with your horrible weird Chronicle matter."

"Well," said Lothair, "I suppose I can't refuse, though I shall cut a strange figure before this very grave and carefully-behaved gentleman. However, here goes." So Lothair took the papers, and read as follows:--

THE LIFE OF A WELL-KNOWN CHARACTER.

In the year one thousand five hundred and fifty-one there was to be seen in the streets of Berlin, particularly in the evening twilight, a gentleman of fine and distinguished appearance. He wore a rich and beautiful doublet, trimmed with sable, white galligaskins, and slashed shoes; on his head was a satin barret cap with a red feather. His manners were charming, and highly polished. He bowed politely to everybody, particularly to ladies, both married and single; and to them he was wont to address civil and complimentary speeches. He would say: "Donna! if you have any wish or desire in the depths of your heart, pray command your most humble servant, who will devote his humble powers to the utmost to be entirely at your disposal and service." This was what he said to married ladies of position. To the unmarried he said: "Heaven grant you a nice husband, worthy of your loveliness and virtues." To the men he behaved just as charmingly, and it was no wonder that everybody was fond of this stranger, and came to his assistance when he would stand hesitating, in doubt and difficulty, at some crossing, apparently not knowing how to get over it; for though a well-grown and handsomely-proportioned person in most respects, he had one lame foot, and was obliged to go about with a crutch. But as soon as anybody gave him a hand to help him at a crossing, he would instantly jump up with him some six ells or so into the air, and not come to the ground again within a distance of some twelve paces on the other side of the crossing. This rather astonished people, it need not be said, and one or two sprained their legs slightly in the process. But the stranger excused himself by saying that, before his leg was lame, he had been principal dancer at the Court of the King of Hungary; so that, when he felt himself called upon to take a jump, the old habit came back upon him, and, willy-nilly, he could not help springing up into the air as he used to do in the exercise of his profession. The people were satisfied with this explanation, and even took much delight in seeing some privy councillor, clergyman, or other person of position and respectability, taking a great jump of this sort hand-in-hand with the stranger.

But, merry and cheerful as he seemed to be, his behaviour changed at times in a most extraordinary manner; for he would often go about the streets at night and knock at people's doors; and when they opened to him, he would be standing there in white grave clothes, raising a terrible crying and howling, at which they were fearfully frightened; but he would apologize the following day, saying that he was compelled to do this to remind the citizens and himself of the perishableness of the body, and the imperishableness of the soul, to which their minds ought always to be carefully directed. He would weep a little as he said this, which touched the folks very much. He went to all the funerals, following the coffin with reverent step, and conducting himself like one overwhelmed with sorrow, so that he could not join in the hymns for sobbing and lamenting. But, overcome with grief as he was on those occasions, he was just as delighted and happy at marriages, which in those days were celebrated in a very splendid style at the town-hall. There he would sing all sorts of songs in a loud and delightful voice, and dance for hours on end with the bride and the young ladies (on his sound leg, adroitly drawing the lame one out of the way), behaving and evincing himself on those occasions as a man of the most delightful manners and bearing. But the best of it was that he always gave the marrying couples delightful presents, so that of course he was always a most welcome guest. He gave them gold chains, bracelets, and other valuable things; so that the goodness, the liberality, and the superior morality of this stranger became bruited abroad throughout the city of Berlin, and even reached the ears of the Elector himself. The Elector thought that a person of this sort would be a great ornament at his own Court, and caused him to be sounded as to his willingness to accept an appointment there. The stranger, however, wrote back an answer (in vermilion letters, on a piece of parchment a yard and a half in length, and the same in breadth) to the effect that he was most submissively grateful for the honour offered to him, but implored his Serene Highness to permit him to remain in the enjoyment of the citizenesque life which was so wholly conformed to all his sentiments, in peace; adding that he had selected Berlin, in preference to many other cities, as his residence, because he had nowhere else met with such charming people, persons of such truthfulness and uprightness, of so much "feeling," of such a sense for fine and delightful "manners" so exquisitely after his own heart in every respect. The Elector, and his whole Court along with him, much admired and wondered at the beautiful style in which this reply of the stranger was conceived, and the matter was allowed to rest there.

It happened that just then the lady of Councillor Walter Lütkens was, for the first time, "as ladies wish to be who love their lords"; and the old accoucheuse, Mistress Barbara Roloffin, predicted that this fine, grand lady, overflowing with health and strength,