LITMIR.BIZ

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and the old soldier who served them as a guide, enter the inn-yard together.

      The night had set in, dark and cloudy; a high wind made the lights flicker in the lanterns which were used to receive the new guests. But the description given to Morok had been so exact, that it was impossible to mistake them. Sure of his prey, he closed the window. Having remained in meditation for another quarter of an hour—for the purpose, no doubt, of thoroughly digesting his projects—he leaned over the aperture, from which projected the ladder, and called, "Goliath!"

      "Master!" replied a hoarse voice.

      "Come up to me."

      "Here I am—just come from the slaughter-house with the meat."

      The steps of the ladder creaked as an enormous head appeared on a level with the floor. The new-comer, who was more than six feet high, and gifted with herculean proportions, had been well-named Goliath. He was hideous. His squinting eyes were deep set beneath a low and projecting forehead; his reddish hair and beard, thick and coarse as horse-hair, gave his features a stamp of bestial ferocity; between his broad jaws, armed with teeth which resembled fangs, he held by one corner a piece of raw beef weighing ten or twelve pounds, finding it, no doubt, easier to carry in that fashion, whilst he used his hands to ascend the ladder, which bent beneath his weight.

      At length the whole of this tall and huge body issued from the aperture. Judging by his bull-neck, the astonishing breadth of his chest and shoulders, and the vast bulk of his arms and legs, this giant need not have feared to wrestle single-handed with a bear. He wore an old pair of blue trousers with red stripes, faced with tanned sheep's-skin, and a vest, or rather cuirass, of thick leather, which was here and there slashed by the sharp claws of the animals.

      When he was fairly on the floor, Goliath unclasped his fangs, opened his mouth, and let fall the great piece of beef, licking his blood-stained lips with greediness. Like many other mountebanks, this species of monster had began by eating raw meat at the fairs for the amusement of the public. Thence having gradually acquired a taste for this barbarous food, and uniting pleasure with profit, he engaged himself to perform the prelude to the exercises of Morok, by devouring, in the presence of the crowd, several pounds of raw flesh.

      "My share and Death's are below stairs, and here are those of Cain and Judas," said Goliath, pointing to the chunk of beef. "Where is the cleaver, that I may cut it in two?—No preference here—beast or man—every gullet must have it's own."

      Then, rolling up one of the sleeves of his vest, he exhibited a fore-arm hairy as skin of a wolf, and knotted with veins as large as one's thumb.

      "I say, master, where's the cleaver?"—He again began, as he cast round his eyes in search of that instrument. But instead of replying to this inquiry, the Prophet put many questions to his disciple.

      "Were you below when just now some new travellers arrived at the inn?"

      "Yes, master; I was coming from the slaughter-house."

      "Who are these travellers?"

      "Two young lasses mounted on a white horse, and an old fellow with a big moustache. But the cleaver?—my beasts are hungry and so am I—the cleaver!"

      "Do you know where they have lodged these travellers?"

      "The host took them to the far end of the court-yard."

      "The building, which overlooks the fields?"

      "Yes, master—but the cleaver—"

      A burst of frightful roaring shook the loft, and interrupted Goliath.

      "Hark to them!" he exclaimed; "hunger has driven the beasts wild. If I could roar, I should do as they do. I have never seen Judas and Cain as they are to-night; they leap in their cages as if they'd knock all to pieces. As for Death, her eyes shine more than usual like candles—poor Death!"

      "So these girls are lodged in the building at the end of the court-yard," resumed Morok, without attending to the observations of Goliath.

      "Yes, yes—but in the devil's name, where is the cleaver? Since Karl went away I have to do all the work, and that makes our meals very late."

      "Did the old man remain with the young girls?" asked Morok.

      Goliath, amazed that, notwithstanding his importunities, his master should still appear to neglect the animals' supper, regarded the Prophet with an increase of stupid astonishment.

      "Answer, you brute!"

      "If I am a brute, I have a brute's strength," said Goliath, in a surly tone, "and brute against brute, I have not always come the worst off."

      "I ask if the old man remained with the girls," repeated Morok.

      "Well, then—no!" returned the giant. "The old man, after leading his horse to the stable, asked for a tub and some water, took his stand under the porch—and there—by the light of a lantern—he is washing out clothes. A man with a gray moustache!—paddling in soap-suds like a washerwoman—it's as if I were to feed canaries!" added Goliath, shrugging his shoulders with disdain. "But now I've answered you, master, let me attend to the beasts' supper,"—and, looking round for something, he added, "where is the cleaver?"

      After a moment of thoughtful silence, the Prophet said to Goliath, "You will give no food to the beasts this evening."

      At first the giant could not understand these words, the idea was so incomprehensible to him.

      "What is your pleasure, master?" said he.

      "I forbid you to give any food to the beasts this evening."

      Goliath did not answer, but he opened wide his squinting eyes, folded his hands, and drew back a couple of steps.

      "Well, dost hear me?" said Morok, with impatience. "Is it plain enough?"

      "Not feed? when our meat is there, and supper is already three hours after time!" cried Goliath, with ever-increasing amazement.

      "Obey, and hold your tongue."

      "You must wish something bad to happen this evening. Hunger makes the beasts furious—and me also."

      "So much the better!"

      "It'll drive 'em mad."

      "So much the better!"

      "How, so much the better?—But—"

      "It is enough!"

      "But, devil take me, I am as hungry as the beasts!"

      "Eat then—who prevents it? Your supper is ready, as you devour it raw."

      "I never eat without my beasts, nor they without me."

      "I tell you again, that, if you dare give any food to the beasts—I will turn you away."

      Goliath uttered a low growl as hoarse as a bear's, and looked at the

       Prophet with a mixture of anger and stupefaction.

      Morok, having given his orders, walked up and down the loft, appearing to reflect. Then, addressing himself to Goliath, who was still plunged in deep perplexity, he said to him.

      "Do you remember the burgomaster's, where I went to get my passport signed?—To-day his wife bought some books and a chaplet."

      "Yes," answered the giant shortly.

      "Go and ask his servant if I may be sure to find the burgomaster early to-morrow morning."

      "What for?"

      "I may, perhaps, have something important to communicate; at all events, say that I beg him not to leave home without seeing me."

      "Good! but may I feed the beasts before I go to the burgomaster's?—only the panther, who is most hungry? Come, master; only poor Death? just a little morsel to satisfy her; Cain and I and Judas can wait."

      "It is the panther, above all, that I forbid you to feed. Yes, her, above all the rest."

      "By the horns of the devil!" cried Goliath,

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