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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Is it so bitter to do right?" the old man asked, bending low and speaking softly. "It is the bitterness of death," she said. "It is well done," he answered. Then came a noise of hurried steps and a loud, deep voice, calling, "Unorna! Unorna!" Keyork Arabian was there. He glanced at Beatrice and the Wanderer, locked in each other's arms, then turned to Unorna and looked into her face.
He made a few rapid signs, and the Individual disappeared, coming back a moment later attired in a long coat not unlike his master's except that the fur of the great collar was of common fox instead of being of sable. Keyork drew his peaked cape comfortably down over the tips of his ears. "The ether!" he exclaimed. "How forgetful I am growing!
"Besides, a bargain is a bargain, and there were numerous witnesses to the transaction," he added, looking round the room at his dead specimens. Unorna tried to laugh with him. "Do you know, I was so nervous that I fancied all those creatures were groaning and shrieking and gibbering at me, when you came in." "Very likely they were," said Keyork Arabian, his small eyes twinkling.
She thought of the evening when she had cried aloud that she would give her soul to know the Wanderer safe, of the quick answer that had followed, and of Keyork Arabian's face. Was he a devil, indeed, as she sometimes fancied, and had there been a reality and a binding meaning in that contract? Keyork Arabian! He, indeed, possessed the key to all evil. What would he have done with Beatrice?
We talked a little and went out of the church and walked a little way together. I forget when we met next, but I have seen him at least a dozen times since then, I am sure." Beatrice began to understand that Keyork had no intention of giving her any further information. She reflected that she had learned much in this interview. The Wanderer had been, and perhaps still was, in Prague.
"It is very well for you not to care," observed Keyork. "You are big and strong and young, whereas I am a little man and very old at that. I shall take him for my own protection. I confess that I value my life very highly. It is a part of that simplicity which you despise. That devil of a Jew is armed, you say?"
Then, seeing that it was useless, she walked slowly to the table and sat down in Keyork's chair. She had been in the place before, and she was as free from any unpleasant fear of the dead company as Keyork himself.
He turned her head quickly. "Who is there? Keyork Arabian?" Sister Paul nodded, glad that she was not obliged to pronounce the name that had for her such an unChristian sound. "Where is he? I did not think he could come so soon. Oh, Sister Paul, do help me with my hair! I cannot make it stay." "He is in the parlour, down stairs," answered the nun, coming to her assistance.
Was there any reality in that jesting contract with Keyork Arabian? She must wait before she did the deed. The nuns would go down into the lighted church, and kneel and pray before the altar. It would last some time, the midnight lessons, the psalms, the prayers and she must be sure that all was quiet, for the deed could not be done in the room where Beatrice was sleeping.
Keyork broke into a peal of laughter, deep, rolling, diabolical in its despairing, frantic mirth. He was still laughing as he reached the door. "Her soul, her soul!" they heard him cry, between one burst and another as he went out, and from the echoing vestibule, and from the staircase beyond, the great laughter rolled back to them when they were left alone. "What is it all?
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