"Welcome, Johannes!" said a gentle, friendly voice, and a soft warm hand clasped his own. "You are not embarrassed in my presence, I hope."
Could that be the Evil One? A nice, polite person like that, with such taking manners, and such a caressing voice? Johannes looked round, in amazement, to the place where It was. He could not distinguish clearly, nor look straight at the speaker, but he seemed to be an ordinary, modish gentleman, with a frank, smiling face—well dressed in a brown suit and a straw hat.
"Would you not like to make acquaintance with me and my Museum?" continued the speaker. "It is an excellent collection—sure to please you. But what have you in your hand? Not a mirror, is it? Fie! You must throw it away. I have no patience with such mirrors. I abhor them! They foster only conceit."
The soft hand essayed to take away the mirror, but Johannes held it fast, and said firmly: "I will keep the mirror."
He had scarcely said this when there flitted across that smiling, honest-looking face a shade of indescribable malice. It was very brief, but plain enough to cause Johannes a shudder, and to convince him that truly the Evil One stood before him.
But instantly the face became again most frank and winning, and he heard:
"Very well, then, as you please. We will begin by making the acquaintance of my subjects—all of them friends, comrades, or relatives."
Just then Johannes heard again the well-remembered whispering and giggling which he had heard while watching the little hands. On all sides, amid much rustling and shuffling, he heard breathing, coughing, and sniffling—all sorts of queer human sounds, as if the place was thronged with people. But still he could see nothing.
"You fancied I was very different, did you not, Johannes? That I had horns and a tail? That idea is out of date. No one believes it now. Thank God we are forever above that foolish separation of good and evil. That is untenable Dualism. My kingdom is as good as the other."
"What is your name?" asked Johannes.