All at once the melody ceased, or rather it was interrupted by a burst of horrid laughter, and then by a shriek, which ran through a perfect scale of scorn, triumph, and bitter agony.
A foreboding of evil filled Elizabeth's mind. She looked anxiously in the direction, in the dark wood, whence the noise was approaching. It was hushed for a moment, and then the hymn began again, while the singer came rushing on like the wind.
Elizabeth stepped within the open door of the tower, for she did not wish to encounter the strange singer; scarcely had she crossed the threshold, when the laughter was repeated close at hand.
On the opposite side of the open sward Bertha rushed out of the thicket, and by her side ran Wolf, the forester's savage watch-dog.
"Wolf, seize her!" she shrieked, pointing with both hands to Elizabeth. The animal came tearing, barking, across the open space.
Elizabeth shut the door behind her, and ran up the tower stairs. She thus gained a moment's advantage; but before she had reached the roof of the tower the door below was opened. The growling dog rushed up the stairs followed by the maniac cheering him on.
The terrified and hunted girl reached the topmost stair,—she heard the growl of the savage brute behind her,—he was just at her heels,—with one last effort she stepped out upon the roof, closed the oaken door, and leaned her whole weight against it.
For a few moments Bertha rattled at the latch upon the other side,—it did not yield. She raved, and threw herself against the oaken panels, while Wolf, barking and growling, scratched at the threshold.
"Amber witch out there!" she shrieked. "I'll throttle you! I'll drag you through the thicket by your long, yellow hair! You have stolen his heart from me, with your moonshine face,—vile hypocrite that you are! Seize her, Wolf, seize her!"
The dog whined, and tore at the door with his paws.