“Have you a charm that will keep away evil dreams?” was the question that was asked in a harsh voice.
“It is needful,” replied Haldane in that hollow voice, which seemed to be her professional tone, “that I should know what has caused them.”
“You a witch, and ask that?” was the sneering answer.
“I ask it for your own sake,” said Haldane coldly. “Confession of sin is good for the soul.”
“When I lack shriving, I will go to a priest. Have you any such charm?”
“Answer my question, and you shall have an answer to yours.”
The visitor hesitated. He was evidently unwilling to confess.
“You need not seek to hide from me,” resumed Haldane, “that the wrong you hold back from confessing is a deed of blood. The only hope for you is to speak openly.”
The Silence continued unbroken for a moment, during which the man seemed to be passing through a mental conflict. At length he said, in a hoarse whisper—
“I never cared for such things before. I have done it many a time,—not just this, but things that were quite as—well, bad, if you will. They never haunted me as this does. But they were men, and these—Get rid of the faces for me! I must get rid of those terrible faces.”