Just about that time, came the dance of the hoodoos at the dark of the moon, and in the flare of the torches the devil and Unc’ Caspar stood disguised, in the doorway of a cabin, and looked on; and as ’Liza led the dance, with her face distorted with ecstatic passion and swaying her body almost to the ground, Unc’ Caspar again pressed the devil for a comment; but again the devil cleared his throat, and said, “We’ll see.” That night Unc’ Caspar dreamed a dream, and in it he saw the world split in half, and his boy Amaziah stood with him on one side and the devil and ’Liza on the other. There was a bottomless pit between, and lo! in the dream, the devil’s eyes were fixed upon him, and the flame burned into Unc’ Caspar’s sockets. Then Unc’ Caspar minded him of the graveyard sand that he wore in his pocket, and, catching it up, he threw it into the devil’s eyes, so that he was blinded and writhed with pain. Then Unc’ Caspar, in his dream, fixed his gaze on ’Liza, and drew her with his eye; and, swinging her arms around her head three times, she stooped and reaching across the pit, plucked three white hairs from Unc’ Caspar’s beard; then, catching the long end of the beard with both hands, she swung across to the other side and laid her hand upon his arm. Amaziah looked, then howled three times, and loped away in the form of a yellow dog. Well, said Mammy, after the dream, Unc’ Caspar talked no more of the wedding of ’Liza and Amaziah, but sat and rolled his white beard in his palm and looked at ’Liza. And Amaziah pressed his own suit, and urged Bithie to let him marry ’Liza; but Bithie was afraid to promise on account of Unc’ Caspar’s curse and afraid not to promise, and grew so thin over thinking about it at night that Ole Miss gave her a tonic of vinegar and rusty nails. The dark of the moon again was near, and this was the time for shadowy work; so Unc’ Caspar sat and plucked his beard, and, forgetful of his duty to his son, dreamed that he had married ’Liza. All through the day he dreamed, while the negroes were in the field, while they harrowed, ploughed, and sowed, for Unc’ Caspar was manumitted and his time was his own; and the devil, stirring the green water of the bayou, laughed aloud that Unc’ Caspar had changed his mind. But the passion grew and grew, and one dark night, when the wind in the swamp-willows was still and there was scarce a ripple, even out to the middle of the river, Unc’ Caspar took ’Liza down to the bank, and, making a mist to rise, showed ’Liza, through the mist, the treasures of the earth. Up from the bed of the river rose a great white house, with its massive pillars shadowy but true, and its white curtains swinging outward to the mist.