would have done —dropped the subject and
talked about something else. And I knew we all
felt mean, eating and drinking Marget’s fine
things along with those companies of spies, and petting
her and complimenting her with the rest, and seeing
with self-reproach how foolishly happy she was, and
never saying a word to put her on her guard.
And, indeed, she was happy, and as proud as a princess,
and so grateful to have friends again. And all
the time these people were watching with all their
eyes and reporting all they saw to Father Adolf.
But he couldn’t make head or tail of the situation.
There must be an enchanter somewhere on the premises,
but who was it? Marget was not seen to do any
jugglery, nor was Ursula, nor yet Gottfried; and still
the wines and dainties never ran short, and a guest
could not call for a thing and not get it. To
produce these effects was usual enough with witches
and enchanters—that part of it was not new;
but to do it without any incantations, or even any
rumblings or earthquakes or lightnings or apparitions—that
was new, novel, wholly irregular. There was nothing
in the books like this. Enchanted things were
always unreal. Gold turned to dirt in an unenchanted
atmosphere, food withered away and vanished.
But this test failed in the present case. The
spies brought samples: Father Adolf prayed over
them, exorcised them, but it did no good; they remained
sound and real, they yielded to natural decay only,
and took the usual time to do it.
Father Adolf was not merely puzzled, he was also exasperated;
for these evidences very nearly convinced him—privately—that
there was no witchcraft in the matter. It did
not wholly convince him, for this could be a new kind
of witchcraft. There was a way to find out as
to this: if this prodigal abundance of provender
was not brought in from the outside, but produced
on the premises, there was witchcraft, sure.
Chapter 7
Marget announced a party, and invited forty people;
the date for it was seven days away. This was
a fine opportunity. Marget’s house stood
by itself, and it could be easily watched. All
the week it was watched night and day. Marget’s
household went out and in as usual, but they carried
nothing in their hands, and neither they nor others
brought anything to the house. This was ascertained.
Evidently rations for forty people were not being
fetched. If they were furnished any sustenance
it would have to be made on the premises. It
was true that Marget went out with a basket every
evening, but the spies ascertained that she always
brought it back empty.
Copyrights
The Mysterious Stranger from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.