"He is there, the red salamander; and already his tempting has ceased. Now he commands. Soon he will threaten. Well, let him; I will not give up this time."
Bill looked resolutely into the fire, as if resolved to stare the tempter out of countenance. He ran his thin hand through his long hair, and seemed quite satisfied with his powers of resistance.
"Lord! what is that?" he cried suddenly, and started to his feet. For a while he was motionless, gazing at the flames leaping up the chimney. Presently he muttered, "Sure as I live, the devil wears a mask, and a queer one. The eyes are curiously long with curving corners, and set up and down in his face. The nose is long, with a high bridge. The chin is turned up, and has fiddle-screws through it. The devil holds a violin-bow in one hand, and in the other a scourge of fiddle-strings. Something has happened to my fiddle, my dear old violin."
He covered his face with his hands, and wept convulsively.
"I thought my fiddle would be as safe in Lizzī's keeping as her honor."
His clock struck ten.
"I will have to go." The resolution formed, he removed his hands from his face, and dried his tears on a bandanna handkerchief. Then he continued the soliloquy.
"I meant to fight it out this time, and let Satan go without his New Year's dance. I could have sat here until morning and shaken with chills-and-fever until my teeth dropped out; but I can't stand this uncertainty about the fate of my violin. This suspense would make me mad—madder far than the noises of the city would have done; madder than crazy Lear; crazier far than that lunatic Bill Kellar has ever been."
"Yes, you soul-thief, redder than the flames around you. I will go to see the waif, my child that I abandoned for fear of you and your shivers; and if it is well with the darling, you know you will get your annual Harvest dance. For I must needs caress the baby, and to the music of its glad laugh you will kick your cloven hoof, you superannuated old fiend. What have I done that you must select me for your soloist on the violin?"
As he talked, Bill looked steadily at the flames as if at the face of a person. When he had thus relieved his mind he took down his heavy coat, and nervously buttoned it round him. Snatching his hat, he jammed it over his eyes and opened the door. With one hand on the latch, he turned and glanced over his shoulder. The apparition had vanished.