I came to Chateau Cartillon in the year of grace one thousand six hundred and forty-two, upon the solicitation of its lord, he having known me upon the banks of the Douro for a master workman, well skilled in rare and curious devices, both of metals and precious stones. For more than two years I rested in and about the castle, seeing much whereof my soul hath need of ease and G.o.d's forgiveness. * * *

* * * One day Count Raoul, being vexed and much disturbed, commanded my attendance upon him.

"My good Miguel," he spake in voice much softer than was his wont, "I do require of you a proof of utmost skill."

I bowed my willingness to undertake a commission.

"I require a golden locket, such as man never saw before, of rare and cunning device. Do you forthwith make it for me, showing upon the one side the black wolf's head of d'Artin, and quarterings, in fairest inlaid work. Upon the other and hidden side, let it appear the black wolf's head as before, but surcharged with the bar sinister. You know.

And let it be concealed by so secretly a hidden spring, no hand but mine can touch or find," and as he spoke on, his tongue flew the taster, his eyes roved about, he kept tight grip upon his sword as if he feared. He, Raoul of Cartillon, the man whose headlong courage was an army's byword, he feared in his own hall.

Even so, for proceeding further, his speech grew more wild, and I fain would have fled.

"You know my oath to my father." I of course knew naught of the matter, nor do I know it yet, though I have diligent inquired.

"My oath to forego the hall, give up my place with my fighting men.

Yea, upon my father's sword I swore, recking light of an oath, and the old man, dying, would have it so. That oath torments me now. The evil demons of the air haunt my bed; fiends leer at me through the day and whisper all the night. I see my father's soul writhing in the fires of h.e.l.l, and there he lays and beckons me to him. But no, by the heart of Mars I'll be no craven fool to give up my castle and my name. Perhaps my son may, I'll make him swear to me to do so. Yet I fear; I fear; I like not that pit of scorching flame where my father suffers because he did lay his hand upon his brother."

I could not but look him in the face, and he thought there was wisdom in my glance, for he clutched me at the throat.

"Ah, thou prying hound, what dost thou know? Speak! Speak!"

But speak I could not, though a soul's salvation hung on my glib and nimble tongue.

Count Raoul soon loosed me, seeing my ignorance. Yet some dark story had I heard and repeated not--the crimes of the great are too dangerous morsels for a poor man to mouth.

"Go now to thy shop, and mark ye, sirrah, that no man sees thy work."

I had hardly gotten well to my forge before three stout varlets came in on a pretense of seeing a golden bracelet which I showed them without suspecting aught. When, my back well turned, they slipped gyves upon my wrists, bound me by a great band of iron at the waist, and made all fast to the huge stone pillar.

Thenceforward, all through the days and nights which followed, one of these men stood ever at my window to see I worked with speed, worked on the locket and not upon my chains.

Count Raoul came many times as the work progressed, but the guards were alway at too great a distance to tell in what quaint form my beaten gold was fashioned.

Many, many lockets I made of cunning workmanship and design, of curious chasings and most marvelous wrought intertwinings, yet none suited my lord. One after one they returned to the melting pot and my labors re-commenced.

During the long months I was thus engaged, I saw the Count often, nay, more than daily, for his whole feverish life seemed in-woven with the yellow and white metals I was busy interlacing and rounding and polishing up.

At times an abject fear sat upon his countenance, and he mumbled of strange sights he saw, of communings with the Prince of Darkness, of specters gaunt and hideous that glided through the deserted court-yard, and stood beside his chair even in the noisy banquet chamber.

For that the Count was mad I could not doubt.

Yea, of all these things he spake as he urged me on as a lazy horse under whip and goad, to finish, finish.

I inquired of this at great risk of one of the men who stood guard; he tapped his forehead, and replied:

"He does all things so. It is so in camp, on the field, in the hall.

Aye, but he's a very fiend in battle," and the fellow's eye brightened with a fierce pleasure at the thought of his lord's well-known prowess--for Count Raoul had wandered much in foreign lands, and deeds of blood followed in whispers to his door.

It is of these dealings with the evil lord, and close a.s.sociation with one possessed, I seek cleansing. * * * Too often did I pa.s.s the names of Rusbel, Ashtaroth, Beelzebub, Satan and others trippingly upon my tongue--may the Saints defend--to keep my lord's temper smooth, for I verily believe he meant to slay me when my task was done.

It was for this I made my work long and tedious, that the acid I was daily using on my chains might have due season to eat them through, and I could be free.

* * * finished at length to his satisfaction, and slipped off through the night.

Stated and subscribed in presence of Brothers Jehan and Hubert, on this the morrow of All Saints', in the year of grace one thousand six hundred and forty-six.

MIGUEL SILICEO.