Almost bewildered by the strange scene and surroundings, I mechanically repeated the oath after him, and when I had finished the strange being looked fixedly at the corner of the mantel, where he had said the horrid head appeared, and said: “Does it please you, master?” My eyes followed his, but I saw nothing. Placing both his hands to his head, Voudran staggered to a chair, saying to me: “It is well! you may go, farewell!” Hiding the precious roll under my cloak I hurried out into the pure air and rejoined Albert, who was sauntering leisurely down the street, enjoying a cigarette. We directed our steps onward across the small square in front of the cathedral; passed down the ancient main street and stood upon the old bridge. It was sunset; a parting ray of sunshine escaping through the clouds shot across the top of the hills over field and valley and tenderly caressed the dingy front of the grand old church towering far above its surroundings, glorifying it for a moment and then fading, leaving it and the hoary-roofed houses nestling at its feet, as if for protection, almost ghostlike in the coming twilight. I leaned over the parapet of the bridge and looking down listened to the gurgling of the river through its ancient arches. The charm of the hour was upon me and it seemed to me as if I could hear voices calling to me out of the past. I stood there, dreaming and musing upon the strange events of the day, until aroused by my companion, who put his hand on my shoulder and said: “Come! we must go!” The twilight had fallen into dusk and as I looked backward, while turning away, at rare old Mouzon, poor old Mouzon—grand old Mouzon—it stood out to my view with its great old cathedral looming up more ghostlike than ever. So, gentle reader, poor Charles Voudran is dead, and here I present you, according to my promise, the story of Maugis, the warrior sorcerer, and the four knightly sons of Aymon, and I pray that it may please you well. In presenting the exciting episodes of this story which poor Voudran, through me, now presents to your favor, it is perhaps proper for me to call your attention to the curious revelations it makes of the civilization of those ancient times, where a strange mixture of religious fervor, high chivalry, magnanimity, and keen sense of honor, are intermingled with superstition, barbaric splendor, cruelty, treachery, and disregard of life, altogether affording a remarkable insight into the human nature and the manners and customs of the eighth century.