in monotone almost listless. His tired,
over-wrought brain denied a further
thought. His arm and fingers refused
response to his will. With an uncontrollable
outburst of grief and anger he
dashed the violin to the floor, where it
lay a hopeless wreck. Extending his
arms he cried, in the agony of despair:
``It is of no use! If the God of heaven
will not aid me, I ask the prince of
darkness to come.''

A tall, rather spare, but well-made
and handsome man appeared at the
door of the hut. His manner was that of
one evidently conversant with the usages
of good society.

``I beg pardon,'' said the musician,
surprised and visibly nettled at the
intrusion, and then with forced politeness
he asked: ``To whom am I indebted
for this unexpected visit?''

``Allow me,'' said the stranger taking
a card from his case and handing
it to the musician, who read: ``Satan,''
and, in the lower left-hand corner
``Prince of Darkness.''