"Yes," Breda said slowly and with apparent effort. "I was forced into my first marriage by my all too worldly parents, and my husband ill-used and beat me!"
"The devil! the cold-hearted, cowardly devil!" Ivan ejaculated, "I would have killed him."
"That is what I did," Breda remarked; "I did kill him, and it was in order to make certain of killing him that I became a werwolf."
"Did you eat him?" Ivan asked, horribly fascinated.
"Don't ask questions," Breda said, averting her eyes, "and for God's sake don't lose any more time. As you love me, screen me from detection; hide all traces of to-night's handiwork as quickly as possible."
As usual, Ivan did as she requested him, and giving out that his mother had died suddenly, from heart failure, he had her interred with as little publicity as possible.
Before very long, however, the neighbours began to ask such pointed questions, that Ivan now lived in a state of chronic suspense. He feared every moment that the truth would leak out, and that his beautiful young wife would receive condign punishment.
At last, finding such a state of apprehension intolerable, he confided in an old man who was reputed a sage and metaphysician—one who was extremely well versed in all matters appertaining to the spiritual world. "There is only one course to pursue," the old man said, "you must have the evil spirit in her exorcized, and you must have it done immediately. Otherwise, she will continue her depredations, and your good neighbours will find her out and kill her. They more than half suspect her now, and are talking of paying a visit some night, when you are snug and safe in bed, to the cemetery, to see if the story you told them about your mother's and sisters' sudden deaths is correct."
"What kind of exorcism would you use?" Ivan inquired nervously. "You would not hurt her?"
"The form of exorcism I should make use of would do her no lasting harm," the old man said feelingly; "you can rely on me for that."
