"From my earliest childhood, and almost every time I looked; very often Milenko and I saw the very same things."
"But are you sure you never saw the face before?"
"Oh! quite sure."
"Now, tell me minutely what you have seen in the glass."
"First the mirror grew hazy, just as if clouds were flitting over it; then, little by little, it got to be more transparent, and of a silvery, glassy grey. After that it grew greenish, and I could distinguish down within its depths a beautiful landscape. It was a country road seen by night; the moon was rising behind the hills at a distance, and presently the trees, the rocks, the road, were clearer. All at once two men were seen walking on the way. I could not see their faces, for I was behind them; still, I was sure who the shorter man was. They walked on and disappeared, but then I saw one of them come running back. I was not mistaken; it was the man with the single eye. His was, indeed, the face of a fiend.
"He must have been running for some time, for he was panting, nay, gasping for breath. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, then threw the knife he was holding within a bush. It was a bush with silvery leaves, and all covered with flowers. He then wiped his wet hands on the leaves of the shrub, on the scanty grass, then rubbed them with the sandy earth to remove all the traces of the blood. This done, he again took to his heels and disappeared."
"And that is all you saw?"
"No! the mirror resumed again its real, dark colour, but, as I continued looking within it, hoping to see something more, I saw it turn again milky-white; then of a strong grass green, and, in the midst of that glaring green paint, I had a glimpse of a Turkish flag; then, as the red flag vanished, I beheld two words cut out and painted in white in that garish green background. Those mysterious words remained for some time; then they vanished, and I saw nothing more."
"Those words were in Turkish characters, were they not?"
"No; some of them were like ours, but not all."