The other drew back his hand. "Did I not promise," said he, "to make you rich for as long as you lived?" "Yes," said Oliver, "you did, but I do not believe you. Suppose that I give you these two bottles, how do I then know that you will not bang down that trap upon me, and lock me in here to die alone in a day or two?" "Then come up here," said the other, "if you are afraid." "Yes," said Oliver; "but last night I saw something--" He stopped short, for the recollection of it stuck in his throat. "Suppose you should hand me over to Gaspard and his black bag;" and he shuddered with a sudden creep at the thought of it. The master's face grew as black as thunder, and his eyes shone blue in the light of the lantern. "Peste!" he cried, stamping his foot upon the stone pavement. "Do you chaffer with me? Will you give me the water, or will you not?" "No," cried Oliver; "not until you promise to let me go safe back home." "You will not give the bottles to me?" "No!" There was a pause for a moment, but only for a moment. Then there was a snarl like the snarl of a wild beast--"Gaspard!" cried the master. As he cried he leaped forward and down, two steps at a time, with the servant at his heels. Oliver ran back into the room, yelling, stumbled over the corner of a rug, dropped the lantern, and fell flat upon the floor, where he lay, with his face buried in his hands, screaming with terror. In his ears rang a confused noise of snarls and cries and oaths and scuffling feet, but no hand was laid upon him. Moment after moment passed. Oliver raised his face from his hands, and looked fearfully over his shoulder. At the open door-way stood Gaspard and his master, with white faces and gleaming teeth, dancing and hopping up and down, tossing their hooked, claw-like hands in the air, foaming with rage, snarling and gnashing like wolves. The lantern which Oliver had dropped still burned with a sickly, flickering gleam, for the candle had not gone out, and it was partly by the light of it that he beheld them. Then, like a flash of lightning, he saw it all: _they could not cross that red line drawn across the door-way_. Oliver's courage came back to him with a bound. He sat up and looked at them struggling and striving to get at him, and kept back as by an unseen wall of adamant. Instinctively he reached out and raised the overturned lantern, for the light was on the verge of flickering out. "Promise me that I shall reach home safe and sound," said he, "and you shall yet have the two bottles." [Illustration: "AT THE OPEN DOOR-WAY STOOD GASPARD AND HIS MASTER."] The master did not seem to hear him. Oliver repeated the words. Then suddenly the other ceased from the violence of his gestures and exclamations, shook himself, and stood erect, pulled down his lace cuffs, and wiped his face with his cambric handkerchief. Then he fixed upon Oliver a basilisk glance, and smiled a dreadful smile. "Gaspard," said he, "let us go."