The National tribune., 1893-01-19

| cOCkroacheS for each Death Spider. These
must be caught. The task will not be hard
They are to your hand here These must bt
pounded into pulp. Out Of this pulp you must
fashion two Spiders like that" reaching out hi:
pointed toe and tapping the book. " They
must then be dried. and at the proper time my
master will give them lfe Ho! no then, tc
the glorious task J"
We cannot describe the creation of The Death
Spider; the deftness of the imp in capturing
the insects; Hargon's disgust at the loathsome
task, or Grissikins jesting impudence in keep
ing his bloOdthirstiness to the working pitch
Nor can wo stop to tell how, when the Spiders
were at last fashioned, the dwarf simply
struck the wall sharp blow, and the glowing
mouth of a furnace opened, into which the in.
scots were thrust to dry; nor how, in time,
they came forth, terrible grewsome objects,
lacking only the venomous life for which Har-
gon had called them into being.
Neither can we detail Grissikin's numerous
visits Of espial upon the doomed youth during
the period OF preparation, nor the glOating re-
ports he brought back of Fithington's beauty
how it would be dimmed and his radiant pros
poets of happy and prosperous life cut short
nor the leering delight with which he told how
he had heard the maids sweet confessions Of
her happiness and her precious hopes of the
joy of their coming marriage; nor how he
finally brought back word TO the triumphant
Hargon that the young man had been stricken
| with a dangerous fever
| The tale must leap all these to bitter jan
uary night, when furious wind roared over
| the great city and wbired snow-fakes down
| into its streets, seeming in wilfulness to drive
| them in densest clouds into Seven Dials, as if
to render more bewildering and awful its sur
rounding neighborhood. In his filthy apart
ment Hargon sat at his table, with the odious
| insects before him, their black, polished backs
| ftfully rejecting the rays of the futtering
| candle--a picture of grizzly, murderous hu-
| man fiend.
! A neighboring clock struck eight, and in
| stantly Grisskin appeared in his favorite place
and posture upon the table, leering at Har-
gon and wrigging his taper foot forward as if
| to prod the ogre. Then, picking up one of the
| Spiders and squirting at it, he said:
'The night is here. We must call my master
| to make these beautiful creatures crawl and
one of them spin it's deaths web. Fithingt0n
lies i'll and his maid will be heart-broke ere the
| dawn Say you SOP"
Eyes" Hargon assented deep in his heart
| less chest.
"Ho. then, Master, send life to our Spiders"
cried the imp in thin, piping voice. in which
now rang subtle impudence toward the demon
before him, and placing the Spider upon the
table beside the other
| Instantly there came a pulsating of the thick,
| redolent air of the room, a swaying of the house
as if the earth were sinking. The candle-fame
fickered into tiny blue point. and from the
| ceiling directly above the table two tiny globes,
| spinning rapidly and shedding incandescent
light fell, one upon each of the Spiders, where,
| after few moments of rotation, they sank into
| the bodies of the insects. Then the candeIght
| burst to its ordinary flame, and the spiders,
crooking their long legs, wero seen to be crawl
| ing upon the table.
Beautiful, are they not?" jeered the dwarf,
| pointing to them. "And think how they will
spin the life from that youth and break the
maids heart! Gloriously beautiful, Hargon.
Are you ready?"
Ready ?-eager," snared the Gobelin.
"Wait."
He sank from sight, but reappeared in a few
| moments.
"You must be about the task" he said.
| Fithington,s fever will reach its crisis ere
midnight Set the Spider spinning"
(Which one?" asked Hargon.
(Which one?" echoed the imp with the ex-
quisite mockery of feigned surprise.
"Yes; asked which one"
"Either," replied the dwarf
"Either," roared Hargon. !" asked which"
"And l answered either" answered Grissi-
kin. "Time passes. 1t is over late"
The old mans eyes flashed rage at the dwarfs
insoIence. He clutched wildly at the dwarf,
who nimbly eluded him by leaping to the table
and thence to the top of chest, where, stick
ing his tongue fast into his cheek, he grinned
dabolically down at Hargon, his eyes glowing
like Goals and said
"Delay moment, and the youth escapes
you. Choose!"
Hargon furiousy snatched up the candle in
one hand and the nearest spider in the other
and striding into one of the corners put the
wriggling horror upon the wall. With marvel
GUS instinct The Death Spider instantly began
spinning. Rapidly, accurately it stretched its
stay lines across the corner from wall to WALL
pulling taut. cementing; and the thread itspun
was bIack-back as the furious night without
black as the garments of Death. With candle
reached eagerly forward Hargon watched its
movements his repulsve face twitching in
furious hatred.
When the spider had set his guys and was
beginning the radii, Grsskin. with prepara
tory grin at Hargon, leaped to the floor, and
raising his arm, cried:
Behold !"
At his word the wall of room became trans
parent and the Gobelin who had turned
looked upon the vision of sick room, wherein
young man lay breathing feebiy upon a
luxurious bed, his aged father and mother
sitting by him; while at short distance sat a
fair young woman with hands tightly clasped
staring unwaverngly at the sufferer, her
white haired mother, with arms close about
her. vainly striving to encourage. physician
stood at the bed foot, his experienced eyes upon
the face of the invalid.
"Hist, Hargon!" cried the imp. CLARK"
"This is the crisis, said the physician, softly
"At midnight we shall know ALL"
Behold how the maid sorrows," urged
Grissikin. Doth the Spider spin?"
"Too slowly" snarled the "Gobelin." When
it finishes and settles quiet in the CENTER
Fithington's torture will begin, and he will die
Ha ha! Work Spider, work"
Silence crept into the murky room-dead
silence, save for the hiss of the wind over the
roofs, and among the chimney-pots high above.
Hargon kept his impatient gaze fixed upon the
rapid movements of the Spider while Grissikin,
perched upon the back of a chair, held his
lustrous, mocking eyes to the vision of the sick
room, turning, however, swift glances of
develsh mrth at the Gobelin.
Minutes dragged until tho clock threw IL
solemn tones into the storm, and The Death
Spider, gluing the last of the concentric
threads, ran rapidly across the huge web and
settled quiet in its center Hargon turned
questOnngly to the vision. The physician
was bending over the sufferer, who, signing
gently, opened his eyes.
"He will live" he said
Live" echoed Hargon.
"HO! ho!" grinned Grissikin.
"You have trcked mel" roared the "Gob-
elm"
He took one vicious step toward the imp, but
stopping suddenly, clutchcd wildly at his heart,
while pangs of agony began convulsing his
face.