Burn, Witch, Burn!

upright in my bed. I was dripping with sweat, and my heart was pumping with a pulse that shook my

body. I could see the chandelier glimmering in the light from the windows like a small nebulous cloud. I

could see the windows faintly outlined. It was very still…

There was a movement at one of the windows. I would get up from the bed and see what it was-I could

not move!

A faint greenish glow began within the room. At first it was like the flickering phosphorescence one sees

upon a decaying log. It waxed and waned, waxed and waned, but grew ever stronger. My room became

plain. The chandelier gleamed like a decaying emerald-

There was a little face at the window! A doll's face! My heart leaped, then curdled with despair. I

thought: "McCann has failed! It is the end!"

The doll looked at me, grinning. Its face was smooth shaven, that of a man about forty. The nose was

long, the mouth wide and thin-lipped. The eyes were close-set under bushy brows. They glittered, red as

rubies.

The doll crept over the sill. It slid, head-first, into the room. It stood for a moment on its head, legs

waving. It somersaulted twice. It came to its feet, one little hand at its lips, red eyes upon mine-waiting.

As though expecting applause! It was dressed in the tights and jacket of a circus acrobat. It bowed to

me. Then with a flourish, it pointed to the window.

Another little face was peering there. It was austere, cold, the face of a man of sixty. It had small side

whiskers. It stared at me with the expression I supposed a banker might wear when someone he hates

applies to him for a loan-I found the thought oddly amusing. Then abruptly I ceased to feel amused.

A banker-doll! An acrobat-doll!

The dolls of two of those who had suffered the unknown death!

The banker-doll stepped with dignity down from the window. It was in full evening dress, swallowtails,

stiff shirt-all perfect. It turned and with the same dignity raised a hand to the windowsill. Another doll

stood there-the doll of a woman about the same age as the banker-doll, and garbed like it in correct

evening dress.

The spinster!

Mincingly, the spinster-doll took the proffered hand. She jumped lightly to the floor.

Through the window came a fourth doll, all in spangled tights from neck to feet. It took a flying leap,

landing beside the acrobat-doll. It looked up at me with grinning face, then bowed.

The four dolls began to march toward me, the acrobats leading, and behind them with slow and stately

step, the spinster-doll and banker-doll-arm in arm.

Grotesque, fantastic, these they were-but not humorous, God-no! Or if there were anything of humor

about them, it was that at which only devils laugh.

I thought, desperately: "Braile is just on the other side of the door! If I could only make some sound!"

The four dolls halted and seemed to consult. The acrobats pirouetted, and reached to their backs. They

drew from the hidden sheaths their dagger-pins. In the hands of banker-doll and spinster-doll appeared

similar weapons. They presented the points toward me, like swords.

The four resumed their march to my bed…

The red eyes of the second acrobat-doll-the trapeze performer, I knew him now to be-had rested on

the chandelier. He paused, studying it. He pointed to it, thrust the dagger-pin back into its sheath, and

bent his knees, hands cupped in front of them. The first doll nodded, then stood, plainly measuring the

height of the chandelier from the floor and considering the best approach to it. The second doll pointed to

the mantel, and the pair of them swarmed up its sides to the broad ledge. The elderly pair watched them,

seemingly much interested. They did not sheath their dagger-pins.

The acrobat-doll bent, and the trapeze-doll put a little foot in its cupped hands. The first doll straightened,

and the second flew across the gap between mantel and chandelier, caught one of the prismed circles,

and swung. Immediately the other doll leaped outward, caught the chandelier and swung beside its

spangled mate.

I saw the heavy old fixture tremble and sway. Down upon the floor came crashing a dozen of the prisms.

In the dead stillness, it was like an explosion.

I heard Braile running to the door. He threw it open. He stood on the threshold. I could see him plainly in

the green glow, but I knew that he could not see-that to him the room was in darkness. He cried:

"Lowell! Are you all right? Turn on the lights!"

I tried to call out. To warn him. Useless! He groped forward, around the foot of the bed, to the switch. I

think that then he saw the dolls. He stopped short, directly beneath the chandelier, looking up.

And as he did so the doll above him swung by one hand, drew its dagger-pin from its sheath and

dropped upon Braile's shoulders, stabbing viciously at his throat!

Braile shrieked-once. The shriek changed into a dreadful bubbling sigh…

And then I saw the chandelier sway and lurch. It broke from its ancient fastenings. It fell with a crash that

shook the house, down upon Braile and the doll-devil ripping at his throat.