‘Senhor,’ he began, making a profound obeisance, ‘truly it is sad that the mystery of your sweet lady’s and Jocelino’s death has not been solved. But what money has failed to accomplish devilry may do.’ He looked so strange that I thought he must have been indulging too freely in the native wine, and I asked sharply, ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Let not your anger fall on me, Senhor. I do not practise devilry myself; the saints guard me from it.’ Here he shuddered and crossed himself. ‘But I have heard some wonderful stories of Anita, though, God be praised, I have given her a wide berth.’ He crossed himself again. ‘Anita! who is Anita?’ I exclaimed impatiently. ‘The devil’s agent, Senhor,’ he answered, ‘as all the country knows for miles round; but few can look upon her and live.’ ‘Do not befool me with this nonsense,’ I said. ‘I am sick at heart, and weary. Go. Leave me. I am in no mood to listen to silly stories.’ ‘Nay, Senhor, I have no desire to befool you. But Anita--may the Virgin guard us from evil--is a witch, and they do say she has power over life and death. Perhaps--I only say perhaps--she might help you to bring the murderer to justice.’ Although I was irritated and annoyed, and inclined to peremptorily order the old fellow out of my presence, I restrained myself, he seemed so earnest, so sincere. So I was induced to question him further, and I learnt that somewhere up in the mountains an old and withered woman dwelt in a cavern, and consorted with snakes and wild animals, but was shunned by human beings as a rule, for she was said to possess the evil eye, and it was generally believed that she could assume any shape, and drive men mad with fear. Anyway she was accredited with superhuman powers, and could show you your future as well as read your past.