and of other solar systems far away in the remotenesses
of space, and about the customs of the immortals that
inhabit them, somehow fascinating us, enchanting us,
charming us in spite of the pitiful scene that was
now under our eyes, for the wives of the little dead
men had found the crushed and shapeless bodies and
were crying over them, and sobbing and lamenting,
and a priest was kneeling there with his hands crossed
upon his breast, praying; and crowds and crowds of
pitying friends were massed about them, reverently
uncovered, with their bare heads bowed, and many with
the tears running down—a scene which Satan
paid no attention to until the small noise of the
weeping and praying began to annoy him, then he reached
out and took the heavy board seat out of our swing
and brought it down and mashed all those people into
the earth just as if they had been flies, and went
on talking just the same.
An angel, and kill a priest! An angel who did
not know how to do wrong, and yet destroys in cold
blood hundreds of helpless poor men and women who
had never done him any harm! It made us sick
to see that awful deed, and to think that none of
those poor creatures was prepared except the priest,
for none of them had ever heard a mass or seen a church.
And we were witnesses; we had seen these murders
done and it was our duty to tell, and let the law
take its course.
But he went on talking right along, and worked his
enchantments upon us again with that fatal music of
his voice. He made us forget everything; we
could only listen to him, and love him, and be his
slaves, to do with us as he would. He made us
drunk with the joy of being with him, and of looking
into the heaven of his eyes, and of feeling the ecstasy
that thrilled along our veins from the touch of his
hand.
The Stranger had seen everything, he had been everywhere,
he knew everything, and he forgot nothing. What
another must study, he learned at a glance; there
were no difficulties for him. And he made things
live before you when he told about them. He
saw the world made; he saw Adam created; he saw Samson
surge against the pillars and bring the temple down
in ruins about him; he saw Caesar’s death; he
told of the daily life in heaven; he had seen the
damned writhing in the red waves of hell; and he made
us see all these things, and it was as if we were on
the spot and looking at them with our own eyes.
And we felt them, too, but there was no sign that
they were anything to him beyond mere entertainments.
Those visions of hell, those poor babes and women
and girls and lads and men shrieking and supplicating
in anguish—why, we could hardly bear it,
but he was as bland about it as if it had been so
many imitation rats in an artificial fire.
