ed the room dimly and fell upon the bronze image, sitting as
expressionless as ever, immovable. Hortense's heart failed her.
Nothing, she felt, would ever bring words to the closed lips or a
flutter to the heavy eyelids. However, there was nothing to do but try.

She poured a little of the incense on an ash tray and touched a match
to it. The wisp of smoke, pallid in the moonlight, curled slowly
upwards and was lost to sight. A strong sweet odor filled the room.

[Illustration: Hortense burned incense to the image and sat motionless
in Grandfather's chair to wait.]

Hortense moved the tray to the edge of the desk directly in front of
the image and sat down in her Grandfather's chair to wait, her eyes
fixed upon the calm round face before her. It looked like the face of a
woman she thought, not that of a man.

She could see not the slightest change in the image after ever so long
a time, though her eyes never left it. The incense was slowly consumed,
and Hortense arose and added more. Still she watched, endlessly it
seemed, until finally her eyes closed and she must have slept for a
little, for when she opened them again the moonlight was far brighter
than before and the image stood out in the fanciful shadows.

Yes, surely, the hand that now lay open had been raised and closed
before. And the eyes looked at her instead of over her! Her heart beat
quicker.

"You have moved," she said without thinking.

There was a slight stir of the bronze lips; then a soft measured voice
said, "I wait, what is it you ask?"

"I should like," Hortense said, "to get back my charm."

"Jeremiah has it," said the Image, "and Jeremiah is getting to be a
nuisance. I shall have to cut his claws."

How the Image could cut Jeremiah's claws, Hortense didn't see.

"That is to say," the Image went on, "he needs to be taken down."

Down to what, Hortense wondered. She sat a long while waiting for the
Image to say more, but apparently it had gone back to sleep.

"Dear me, how slow it is!" Hortense said to herself. "I suppose it's
like Grandfather's Clock and has all the time in the world."

She sat very silent and once or twice almost fell asleep.

The moonlight continued its slow and silent way across the floor until
at last it rested full upon the Image.

"If you will take a paper knife," said the Image as though it had
ceased speaking but a moment before, "and trace the flower pattern on
my back, beginning in the center, you will f