“I have killed her! I have killed her!”
Lilith descended, and approached him noiselessly. He did not move. She came close to him and said—
“Are you Karl Wolkenlicht?”
His lips moved, but no sound came.
“If you are a vampire, and I am a ghost,” she said—but a low happy laugh alone concluded the sentence.
Karl sprang to his feet. Lilith’s laugh changed into a burst of sobbing and weeping, and in another moment the ghost was in the arms of the vampire.
Lilith had no idea how far her father had wronged Karl, and though, from thinking over the past, he had no doubt that the painter had drugged him, he did not wish to pain her by imparting this conviction. But Lilith was afraid of a reaction of rage and hatred in her father after the terror was removed; and Karl saw that he might thus be deprived of all further intercourse with Lilith, and all chance of softening the old man’s heart towards him; while Lilith would not hear of forsaking him who had banished all the human race but herself. They managed at length to agree upon a plan of operation.
The first thing they