Dirk Renswoude laid down the pen and pushed aside the parchment, and lifted heavy eyes with a sigh of weariness.

It was midday and very hot; the witch’s red roses were beginning to shed their petals and disclose their yellow hearts, and the leaves of the great trees that shaded the house were curling and yellowing in the fierce sun.

From his place at the table Dirk could mark these signs of autumn without; yet by the look in his eyes it seemed that he saw neither trees nor flowers, but only some image evoked by his thoughts; presently he picked up the quill, bit the end of it, frowned and laid it down.

Then he started and looked round with some eagerness, for a light sound broke the sleepy stillness, the door opened, and before his expectant gaze Theirry appeared.

Dirk flushed and smiled.

“Well met,” he said. “I have much to say to you.” He rose and held out his hand. Theirry merely touched it with his fingers.

“And I am come because I also have much to say.” Dirk’s manner changed, the warmth died from his face, and he gave the other a keen glance.

“Speak, then.” He returned to his seat, took his face between his two delicate hands, and rested his elbows on the table. “I was writing my lecture for to-night, certes, I shall be glad of a diversion.”

“You will not be pleased with mine,” answered Theirry his expression was grave and cold, his dress plain and careless; he frowned, lifted his eyebrows continually, and played with the buttons on his doublet.

“Be seated,” said Dirk.

Theirry took the chair he proffered.

“There is no need to make an ado,” he began, obviously with an effort. “I am not going on with you..”

“You are not going on?” repeated Dirk. “Well, your reasons?”

“May God forgive me what I have done,” cried Theirry in great agitation; “but I will sin no more —— I have resolved it — and ye cannot tempt me.”

“And all you swore — to me?” demanded Dirk; his eyes narrowed, but he remained composed. Theirry clasped his restless fingers.

“No man is bound to bargains with the Devil...I have been weak and wicked — but I mingle no more in your fiendish councils —”

“This is for Jacobea of Martzburg’s sake.”

“It is for her sake — because of her that I am here now to tell you I have done with it — done with you!”

Dirk dropped his hands on to the table.

“Theirry! Theirry!” he cried wildly and sorrowfully.

“I have measured the temptation,” said Theirry; “I have thought of the gain — the loss — I have put it aside, with God’s help and hers — I will not aid you in the way you asked me — nor will I see it done.”

“And ye call that virtue!” cried Dirk. “Poor fool — all it amounts to is that you, alas! — love the chatelaine.”

“Nay,” he answered hotly. “It is that, having seen her, I would not be vile. You meditate a dastard thing — the Emperor is a noble knight.”

“Ambrose of Menthon was a holy monk,” retorted Dirk. “Who choked the pious words in his throat? Joris of Thuringia was an innocent youth — who sent him to a hideous death?”

“I!” cried Theirry fiercely; “but always with you to goad me on! Before the Devil sent you across my way I had never touched sin save in dim thoughts but you, with talk of friendship, lured me from an honest man’s company to poison me with forbidden knowledge, to tempt me into hideous blasphemies —— and I will have no more of it!”

“Yet you vowed comradeship with me,” said Dirk. “Is your loyalty of such quality?” Theirry sprang violently from his chair and paced heavily up and down the room.

“You blinded me...I knew not what I did...but now I know; when I— I— heard her speak, and heard that you had dared to try to trap her to destruction —”

Dirk interrupted with a low laugh.

“So she told you that! But I warrant that she was dumb about the nature of her temptation!” “That is no matter,” answered Theirry; “now she is free of you, as I shall be-”

“As you vowed to her you would be,” added Dirk. “Well, go your way — I thought you loved me a little — but the first woman’s face!”

Theirry stood still to front him.

“I cannot love that which — I fear.”

Dirk went swiftly very pale.

“Do you — fear me, Theirry?” he asked wistfully.

“Ay, ye know too much of Satan’s lore — more than you ever taught me,” he shuddered uncontrollably; “there are things in this very house —”

“What do you mean — what do you mean?” Dirk rose in his place.

“Who is the woman?” whispered Theirry fearfully; “there is a woman here —”

“In this house there are none save Nathalie and me,” answered Dirk on the defensive, his eyes dark and glowing.

“There you lie to me; the last time I was here, I turned back swiftly on leaving, but found the door bolted, the lights out, all save one — in the little chamber next to this — I watched at the window and saw a gorgeous room and a woman, a winged woman.”

“You dream,” answered Dirk in a low voice. “Do you think I have enough power to raise such shapes?”

“I think ’twas some love of yours from Hell —— whence you came —”

“My love is not in Hell, but on the earth,” answered Dirk quietly — “yet shall we go together into the pit — as for the woman, it was a dream — there is no gorgeous chamber there.” He crossed the room and flung open a little door in the wall.