San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-11-15

slatternly floor. A brown bear,
with a ring through its nose, sat
upright on its launches with alb
surd gravity. Two men, facing
each other as they straddled a
bench, were throwing dice, and
Catherine, raising herself up with
the effort of woman of twice her
age, went slowly to them, skirting
the dancers. The younger of the
men, having made his throw-a
high one-leaned back little. He
was blond, shaven and had the air
of a gentleman. Catherine leaned
over him. Her loose hair fell
about him. Then he bent forward
again.
Fetch me a mug of beer, Kate.
Be quick, you dawdling fool"
The crazy, screeching music
spurred the body like the crack
of a devils whip. Perspiration
glistened on the pale face of the
fiddler, but his expression was still
one of intent and boyish gravity.
The jostling and shutting became
more abandoned. The men Rugged
their women to them like bears
smothering their victims. Here a
couple of lads danced together,
and another-one of a troupe of
vagabond actors-had rugged him
self out in female petticoats and
was dancing with the bearded
bear-leader A second actor,
wearing sable tights, white-painted
in imitation of the bony frame of
a skeleton and with his face hid
den by grinning death-mask,
leaped into the fun, prancing and
rafting a couple Of drumsticks
upon the parchment of a small
drum slung before him.
"The Dance of Death" said a
mans resonant voice. Get up,
girl-we'll tread it."
Sidonia, sitting as if spellbound
upon her three-legged stool, looked
up and saw that the Master was
standing over her. Was-was he
about to dance with her? She
rose.
1t was feverish-mad and amaz-
ing. She was held sternly up to
the firm body of the tall, masked
man, and so held, they threaded
slowly, the slackening jostle of
rogues and shameless, smooth
faced actor-lads. There was high
outcries and the loud
rattle of the drumsticks. The i'm
personater of death, his skull-mask
white and CHASTITY, leaped up and
down as though he were hung ON
wires.
EAT, drink and be merry, for
tomorrow you die"
Hoarse voices of protest rose.
ooh, shut your trap" mo monks
talk here" "Have drink your
self, old worm-feederr"
The string-music ceased; only
the blatant rat-tat of the mock
skeletons drum continued.
Sidonia found herself again by
he wide and glowing hearth, down
whose cavernous chimney a witch
lstride of broomstick could have
Town with ease. The Master was
with her, and she swallowed more
'piced wine; then sat again upon
he stool, while he drew up bench
and sat by her. Her head was
spinning, but pleasantly. Several
IF the torches had burnt down and
he cellar was in more than half
darkness. The skeleton still
Dranced. A beggar on crutclles.
with one foot drawn right up by
some shrinkage of the muscles.
applauded and poured out several
gold pieces, offering to buy drinks
FOR the whole troupe.
"Sidonia," said the masked man.
eyes, sir"
Give while you may. Eat life
md drink it. Are you afraid of
lamnation?"
Was she? Her head swan. Red
ire, meat and onions, dancing,
loise, the excellent proportions
md rich voice of the Devil.
'No" she said decidedly.
care YOU afraid of me, Sid
mia"
She felt his fingers on her bare
lrm. They slid from elbow to
wrist. They were tense. A ting
ing went over the girl. Her heart
was racing. Something
within her crouched down and
and something also ;
trained forward like a hound on
leash. She was scared and eager.
She turned her face and looked up
nto the hood-shadowed eyes of the
masked man. Was he the Devil?
"Take your hands off her-the
title gutter-rat! D'you call her
| woman? Look at me! You
hall look at mew
Sylvane, the authenticated,
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