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Updated: May 21, 2025
"So, why not pay me and leave?" he again ventured. "Or do you want something else?" Peter knew that he didn't need to ask that last question, for already he realized the grim experiment that was playing about in Mirestone's head. "Yes. I just told you what I wanted. I want to see the hex on a human before I go." "Why? You have your information. Why do you want to see it work on a man?"
I wish to get it over with as soon as possible, and " Peter eyed Mirestone squarely. "I expect to be paid well for my trouble." He was trying to make himself believe that that was his only reason for complying with Mirestone's demands. Actually he was not so sure....
"Yes," answered Peter. "I read about that which you mention." "Splendid, now we are getting somewhere. Can you find me the book that tells of it?" Peter finished drinking his wine and setting the glass upon the table, he slowly rose and faced Mirestone with a look of superiority playing about his rustic features. "No, I am afraid not. You see, I have burned the book." Mirestone's face went white.
Cursing savagely, Milestone trudged back through the rain to the house. He slammed the door shut and threw his cloak on Peter's bed. There was one more bottle on the shelf; he smashed the neck and poured a glass. If one could see him bent over the table sending silent curses into his wine, he could readily imagine the feeling of defeat that had spread over Mirestone's countenance.
Had the untimely plunge in the rapids been the result of the hex the feather would have long since been red, therefore, the tragedy was no more than an accident and Mirestone's hands were innocent of the Dutchman's blood.
Mirestone's voice was drowned out by a heavy rumbling of thunder and the increased splashing of rain on the windows. But somehow Peter seemed not to notice. Somewhat later Mirestone stepped quietly over to the sleeping form of his host.
Mirestone's hand went stiff as he looked at the thread, for on the end of it was a pure white feather. In an instant Mirestone realized that the hex had not worked. Peter's death at the bridge had been a grotesque coincidence.
So, why not pay me and leave?" Mirestone got up and laughed in the Dutchman's face. Crossing to the larder, he brought down a bottle, cracking the neck on the beam above, just as he had done the night before. A wave of apprehension overcame Peter as he realized the old flip attitude of Mirestone's was coming back. That meant definite trouble, and Peter began to fear the consequences.
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