those lamps for—and that ugly slab of black rock?'
'That black slab is a 'Hel-stone,' having the property of reflecting whatever is directly before it, if illumined by those four lamps placed at certain angles; and later it will give off those same reflections —even as the stuff called luminous calcium sulfide absorbs light-rays until surcharged, and then emits them, whenproperly exposed. So, you see, we can preserve the picture of my dance.'
'Heldar,' I demanded sharply, 'are you up to some devilishness? All this looks amazingly like the stage-setting for witch-working!'
'I have sung for you, on different nights,' he replied in gentlest reproach, 'and have told old tales, and have attired myself again and again for your pleasure in beholding me. Have all these things ever bewitched you, or harmed anyone? How, then, can the fact of my dancing for my own satisfaction, before the mystic Hel-stone, do any harm?'
As ever, he won. His sapphire orbs did queer things to me whenever they looked into my own gray, faded old eyes—trusting me to understand and approve whatever he did, simply because he was he and I was I.
'All right,' I said. 'But you're making a fool of me—insisting that I play this old fiddle. Well—I'll teach you a lesson!' And I drew the bow over the strings with a most appalling wail.
And with the unexpected swiftness of a steel trap closing on its victim, icy fingers locked about my wrist, and I knew very definitely that another and alien personality was guiding my arm and fingers! But there came likewise a swift certitude that if I behaved, no harm would ensue—to me, at least. So I let the thing have its way—and listened to such music as I had not believed could be played on any instrument devised by a mortal.
I wish that I could describe that music, but I do not know the right words. I doubt if they have been invented. It was wild, barbaric, savage, but likewise it was alluring, seductive, stealing away all inhibitions—too much of it would have corrupted the angels in heaven. I was almost in a stupor, intoxicated, like a hasheesh-eater in a drugged dream, spellbound, unable to break from the thralldom holding my will, drowning in rapture well-nigh unbearable.
Heldar suddenly blew out the big kerosene lamp standing on the table, leaving as sole illumination the rays from those four bronze lights standing in the corners.
His superb body moved gracefully, slowly at first, then faster, into the intricate figure and pattern of a dance that was old when the world was young. ...
With inward horror I knew the why and wherefore of that entire ceremonial; knew I'd been be-cozened and be-japed; yet knew, likewise, that it was too late for interference. I could not even speak. I could but watch, while some personality alien to my body played maddeningly on my fiddle, and the 'niece' I loved danced a dance deliberately planned to seduce a woman who hated and feared the dancer—and for what devilish purpose I could well guess!
I saw the light-rays converge on his alluring, statuesque body, saw them apparently pass through his and impinge on the surface of that black, sullen, octagonal Hel-stone, and be greedily swallowed up, until the dull, black surface glowed like a rare black Australian opal; and ever the dancing of the witch-girl grew more alluring, more seductive, more abandoned. And I knew why Heldar was thus shamefully—shamelessly, rather—conducting! He had read Michaela Commnenus her character very accurately; knew that her soul had recognized his hatred for her, and feared her—and that his one chance to get her in his clutches lay in inflaming her senses . . . and he'd even told me the properties of that most damnable Hel-stone!
Wilder and faster came the music, and swifter and still more alluring grew the rhythmic response as Heldar's lovely body swayed and spun and swooped and postured; until ultimately his waving arms brought his fluttering hands, in the briefest of touches, into contact with the tiny brooch at his waist and the fnlmy robe was swept away in a single gesture that was faithfully recorded on the sullen surface of the Hel-stone.
Instantly the dancer stopped as if petrified, his arms outstretched as in invitation, his regal head thrown back, showing the long smooth white column of his throat, his clear, half-closed, sapphire-blue eyes agleam with subtle challenge... .
The uncanny music died in a single sighing, sobbing whisper, poison-sweet . . . the clutching, icy fingers were gone from my wrist ... my first coherent thought was: Had that spell been directed at me, the old adage anent 'old fools'would have been swiftly justified!
And I knew that to all intents and purposes, Michaela Commnenus was sunk!
Just the same, I was furious. Heldar had gone too far, and I told his so, flatly. I pointed out in terms unmistakable that what he planned was murder, or worse; and that this was modern America wherein witchcraft had neither place nor sanction, and that I'd be no accessory to any such devilishness as he was contriving. Oh, I made myself and my meaning plain.
And he stood and looked at me with a most injured expression. He made me feel as if I'd wantonly struck a child across the face in the midst of its innocent diversions!
'I don't actually care if the devil flies off with Michaela Commnenus,' I concluded wrathfully, 'but I won't have her murdered by you while you're living here, posing as my niece! No doubt it's quite possible for you to evade any legal consequences by disappearing, but what of me? As accessory, I'd be liable to life imprisonment, at the least!'
His face lightened as by magic, and his voice was genuinely regretful, and in his eyes was a light of sincere love. He came to me and wrapped his white arms about my neck, murmuring terms of affectionate consolation.
'Poor dear Aunt Joan! Heldar was thoughtless—wicked me! And I might have involved you in serious trouble? I am ashamed! But the fate laid upon me by the Norns is heavy, and I may not evade it, even for you, whom I love. Tell me,' he demanded suddenly, 'if I should destroy the vile earthworm without any suspicion attaching to you, or to me, would you love me as before, even knowing what I had done?'
'No!' I fairly snarled the denial. I wanted it to be emphatic.
He smiled serenely, and kissed me full on my lips.
'I never thought to thank a mortal for lying to me, but now I do! Deep in your heart I can read your true feeling, and I am glad! But now'—and his tone took on a sadness most desolate—' I regret to say that on the morrow I leave you. The lovely garments you gave me, and the trunks containing them, I take with me, as you would not wish that I go empty-handed. Nor will I insult you, O Jara Wulf, by talk of payment.
'When I am gone, you will just casually mention that I have returned to my home, and the local gossips will not suspect aught untoward. And soon I shall be forgotten, and no one will suspect, or possibly connect you, or me, with what inevitably must happen to that spawn of the Commneni.
'But of this be very sure: Somewhere, sometime, you and I shall be together again. . . .' His voice broke, he kissed me fiercely on the lips, then tenderly on both cheeks, then lastly, with a queer reverence, on my furrowed old brow. Then he turned, went straight to his room, shut the doer, and I heard the click of the key as he locked himself in, for the first time during his stay in my house. ...
Next morning, as he'd planned, he departed on the first train cityward. I'd given his money enough for all his requirements—more, indeed, than he was willing to take at first, declaring that he intended selling some few of his jewels.
And with his departure went all which made life worth living. ...
Heavily I dragged my reluctant feet back to the empty shell of a cottage which until then had been an earthly paradise to an old man—and the very first thing I laid eyes on was that accursed Hel-stone, lying on the living-room table.
I picked it up, half minded to shatter it to fragments, but an idea seized me. I bore it down-cellar, where semi-darkness prevailed, and the Hel-stone glowed softly with its witch-light, showing me the loveliness of his who had departed from me. And I pressed the cold octagon to my lips, thankful that he'd left me the thing as a feeble substitute for his presence. Then I turned and went back upstairs, found an old ivory box of Chinese workw
omanship, and placed the Hel-stone therein, very carefully, as a thing priceless.
I went to bed early that night. There was no reason to sit up. But I could not sleep. I lay there in my bed, cursing the entire line of Commneni, root, trunk and branch, from the first of that ilk whom history records to this latest scion, or 'spawn,' as Heldar had termed her.
Around midnight, being still wakeful, I arose, got the Hel-stone and sat in the darkness—and gradually became aware that I was not alone! Looking up, I saw his I'd lost standing in a witch-glow of phosphorescent light. I knew at once that it was not Heldar in person, but his 'scin-loecca'or 'shining double,' a 'sending,' and that it was another of his witcheries.
'But even this is welcome,' I thought. Then I felt his thought expressed through that phantasmal semblance of his own gorgeous self—and promptly strove, angrily, to resist his command. Much good it did me!
Utterly helpless, yet fully cognizant of my actions, but oddly assured that about me was a cloak of invisibility—the 'glamyr'of the ancient Alrunas — I dresssed, took the Hel-stone, and passed out into the night.
Straight to the cottage of Commnenus I went, pawed about under the door-step, and planted there the Hel-stone; then, still secure in the mystic glamor, I returned to my own abode.
And no