Now Conrad began to indulge some pleasant fancies. Dreams of hope and ambition hovered about him; but he soon grew gloomy and desponding as heretofore. He waxed incredulous.
"One month? Nothing less, than a miracle! The time is too short. Impossible!"
"That is my business. I have both the will and the power. Is it a bargain?"
Conrad again drained the cup, and things looked brighter. He felt invigorated. His courage came afresh, and he answered firmly,
"A bargain."
"Give me thy hand."
"Oh, mein Herr—not so hard. Thy gripe is like a smithy vice."
"Beg pardon of thy tender extremities. To-morrow then, at this hour, we begin." Immediately after which intimation the stranger departed.
Conrad returned to his own dwelling. He felt restless, uneasy. Apprehensions of coming evil haunted him. Night was tenfold more appalling. Horrid visions kept him in continual alarm.
He arose feverish and unrefreshed. Yesterday's bargain did not appear so pleasant in his eyes; but fear gave way apace, and ere the appointed hour he was in his little work-room, where the mysterious instructor found him in anxious expectation. He drew the requisite materials from under his cloak, a well-primed canvass already prepared. The pallet was covered, and Conrad sat down to obey his master's directions.