IX
From the distance sang the morning cry of the cock, and a sharp odour of fog and smoke greeted the nostrils. Slowly through the air came the sound of a bell, and at this sound the mountain was convulsed. Again the Mænads became the monstrous hags, the Satyrs or Fauns were demons, and the beautiful Dionysus resolved once more into the hideous and fetid Hircus Nocturnus.
'Homewards! Fly! Escape!'
'They have stolen my muck-rake!' the gorbellied ecclesiastic roared despairingly.
'Hog! return to me!' screamed the red-haired vampire, shivering and coughing in the mountain damp.
The setting moon once more shone out from behind the clouds, and in the pallid crimson of her light, the frightened witches, swarm after swarm, like unclean flies, streamed away from the mountain.
'Garr-r! Garr-r! Up from the depths! Do not knock your heads. Save yourselves. Fly!'
The Becco Notturno, bleating lamentably, sank through the earth, leaving the rotten and stifling odour of sulphur. And slow and solemn the church bells sounded more triumphantly through the purer air.