"Slowly Ninon lifted her eyes to his brutal face, and gazed fixedly as some poor little bird might look into the envenomed jaws of a serpent. The fascination of fear was upon her. In a thick, guttural, monotonous voice, the human beast continued: 'The devil has shown me that there is a potent charm in thy young innocent heart, that there are powerful spells in thy warm young blood, and that with them I may discover untold wealth. When the bell tolls out the hour of midnight, I shall take your bleeding heart out of your living body, and the heart of your brother out of his body, that with them I may decoct an essence in yonder furnace that will transmute the basest metal into gold. Midnight is the hour, and at midnight you shall die. Only the spell will be far more potent if you first give yourself to the foul fiend. Therefore, repeat after me: 'I give my soul and body to Satan.'
"Mechanically the terror-stricken girl began: 'I give—' but little Pierre put his hand over her mouth. 'The saints forbid,' he said quietly.
"'Seize the child; tear out his staring eyes,' shouted the monster, savagely."
Mr. Dimmerly stopped, took off his spectacles, and coolly wiped them as he said: "I'm through, and my part of the story is true. This Giles de Laval, or, as he is better known in French history, the Marshal de Retz, destroyed hundreds of children, at ages varying from eight to eighteen, and in ways far worse than I have described. So, Lottie, have you had enough of high tragedy?"
"O uncle!" she exclaimed, with a little impatient stamp of the foot, "you have told us a horrible story. It must not break off in this way, or we sha'n't sleep a wink to-night. Mr. Hemstead, you take up the story where uncle left off, and, if possible, complete it in a way that won't make our blood run cold."
Thus Hemstead was put upon his mettle, and soon all present were hanging with breathless interest on his rich, well-modulated tones.
"When the monster from his sable throne uttered his merciless mandate to tear out the eyes of little Pierre, the two grotesque and statue-like apparitions sprang into life, and, snatching hot irons from the furnace, rushed towards the child. Ninon gave a shriek of terror, and sought to shelter the boy in her arms, crying,'Do what you will with me, but spare him.' Thus again, more truly than before by jealous tears, Ninon proved that she had become a woman."
At this sentence he was interrupted by a perfect storm of applause, in which Harcourt led off again and again. But Hemstead drew his inspiration from Lottie's face, and noted with a thrill of joy that tears stood in her eyes. This was a richer tribute than he received from all the others, and with deeper and more effective tones he continued: "But just then the great bell began to toll out the hour of twelve, and the demon, from his sable throne, made a restraining gesture.
"'Naught,' he said, 'must now interfere with our high magic and solemn sorcery. At the last stroke of the bell take their hearts out of their living bodies.'
"Ninon sank on the floor, murmuring like a dying zephyr among the chords of an AEolian harp, 'Farewell, mother dear. Farewell, my lover true. I cannot meet you to-morrow at the FALLEN TREE' (here Hemstead glanced at Lottie, whose face was instantly suffused); and she bowed her bead upon her brother's shoulder, and sobbed aloud.