Marjorie Bowen

“ Dirk pushed back the damp hair from his eyes, and, resting his face in his hands, his elbows on the ground, he stared into the depths of the crystal, the colour of which brightened until it glowed a ball of azure fire.
"Show me something of the lady who came here to-day," commanded Dirk. They waited.
"Do ye see anything?" breathed the witch.
"Yea—very faintly." He gazed for a while in silence. "I see a man," he said at last. "The spells are wrong ... I see nothing of the lady——"
"Watch, though," cried the witch. "What is he like?" ”

“ The witch handed him a ball of a dark muddy colour, which he placed on the floor, flinging himself beside it; Nathalie drew a pentagon round the globe and pronounced some words in a low tone; a slight tremor shook the ground, though it was solid earth they stood on, and the globe turned a pale, luminous, blue tint. ”

“ The Pope gave a terrible smile, and his beautiful eyes widened. "And the soldiers mutiny, the Saxons at Trastevere have joined Balthasar and the Veronese have left me—we have not enough men to hold Rome an hour; well, Orsini, you shall take a summons to the Cardinals and we will hold a conclave, there to decide how we may meet our fortune."
The secretary departed in silence. Mutterings, murmurings, howlings rose from the accursed city to the Pontiff's chamber; lightning darted from the black heavens, and thunder rolled round the hills of Rome. ”

“ The small windowless space was lit only by one blood-red lamp, locked cupboards lined the walls, and a huge globe of faint gold, painted with curious and mystic signs, hung from the ceiling. The Pope's stiff garments made a soft rustling sound as he moved ”

“ One by one he burnt the parchments in the candle, and when they were reduced to a little pile of ashes he cast the ring into the midst of it and turned away. He crossed to the window, drew the curtains and looked out over Rome. In the black heavens, above the black hills, hung a huge meteor, a blazing globe of fire with a trail of flame....
He took up one of the candles and went to the gold door that led to his bed-chamber. Before he opened it he paused a moment; the candle-flame lit his vivid eyes, his haughty face, his glittering vestments.... ”

“ Again the lady answered: "No."
"She is from Basle," cried Dirk.
"Believe me," replied the stranger earnestly, "she knows nothing of you—I alone in Frankfort hold your secret, and I can help you to keep it ... it were easy to spread a report of Dirk Renswoude's death."
Dirk bit his finger, his lip, glared out at the profusion of roses, at the darkening sky, then at the quiet figure in the hideous speckled mask; if she chose to speak he would have, at the best of it, to fly Frankfort, and that did not suit his schemes.
"Another youth lives here," said the lady. ”

“ Thunder shook the Vatican and the mob howled without. Again he read the letter. Then he thrust it into one of the candles and watched it blacken, curl, burst into flame. He flung it on the marble floor and set his gold heel on it, grinding it into ashes.
At the usual hour they served his sumptuous supper; when it was finished and removed, Paolo Orsini came again.
"Will not your Holiness fly, before it is too late?" ”

“ The stranger rose; her calm and self-possession had suddenly given way to fierce only half-repressed passion; she clasped her hands and trembled as she stood. "Well," she cried thickly. "You could do that again—a softer, more subtle way?" "For you?" ”