They kept so closely to the wall that he

could not determine their actual shape, but when he saw that they

passed on to the great congregation that was gathering in the hall, he

understood that these were the creatures whose leaping shadows he had

first seen reflected in the windowpanes opposite. They were coming from

all parts of the town, reaching the appointed meeting-place across the

roofs and tiles, and springing from level to level till they came to

the yard.

Then a new sound caught his ear, and he saw that the

windows all about him were being softly opened, and that to each window

came a face. A moment later figures began dropping hurriedly down into

the yard. And these figures, as they lowered themselves down from the

windows, were human, he saw; but once safely in the yard they fell upon

all fours and changed in the swiftest possible second into—cats—huge,

silent cats. They ran in streams to join the main body in the hall

beyond.

So, after all, the rooms in the house had not been

empty and unoccupied.

Moreover, what he saw no longer filled him with

amazement. For he remembered it all. It was familiar. It had all

happened before just so, hundreds of times, and he himself had taken

part in it and known the wild madness of it all. The outline of the old

building changed, the yard grew larger, and he seemed to be staring

down upon it from a much greater height through smoky vapours. And, as

he looked, half remembering, the old pains of long ago, fierce and

sweet, furiously assailed him, and the blood stirred horribly as he

heard the Call of the Dance again in his heart and tasted the ancient

magic of Use” whirling by his side.

Suddenly he started back. A great lithe cat had

leaped softly up from the shadows below on to the sill close to his

face, and was staring fixedly at him with the eyes of a human. “Come,”

it seemed to say, “come with us to the Dance! Change as of old!

Transform yourself swiftly and come!” Only too well he understood the

creature’s soundless call.

It was gone again in a flash with scarcely a sound

of its padded feet on the stones, and then others dropped by the score

down the side of the house, past his very eyes, all changing as they

fell and darting away rapidly, softly, towards the gathering point. And

again he felt the dreadful desire to do likewise; to murmur the old

incantation, and then drop upon hands and knees and run swiftly for the

great flying leap into the air. Oh, how the passion of it rose within

him like a flood, twisting his very entrails, sending his heart’s

desire flaming forth into the night for the old, old Dance of the

Sorcerers at the Witches’ Sabbath! The whirl of the stars was about

him; once more he met the magic of the moon. The power of the wind,

rushing from precipice and forest, leaping from cliff to cliff across

the valleys, tore him away. … He heard the cries of the dancers and

their wild laughter, and with this savage girl in his embrace he danced

furiously about the dim Throne where sat the Figure with the sceptre of

majesty… .

Then, suddenly, all became hushed and still, and the

fever died down a little in his heart. The calm moonlight flooded a

courtyard empty and deserted. They had started. The procession was off

into the sky. And he was left behind—alone.

Vezin tiptoed softly across the room and unlocked

the door. The murmur from the streets, growing momentarily as he

advanced, met his ears. He made his way with the utmost caution down

the corridor. At the head of the stairs he paused and listened. Below

him, the hall where they had gathered was dark and still, but through

opened doors and windows on the far side of the building came the sound

of a great throng moving farther and farther into the distance.

He made his way down the creaking wooden stairs,

dreading yet longing to meet some straggler who should point the way,

but finding no one; across the dark hall, so lately thronged with

living, moving things, and out through the opened front doors into the

street. He could not believe that he was really left behind, really

forgotten, that he had been purposely permitted to escape. It perplexed

him.

Nervously he peered about him, and up and down the

street; then, seeing nothing, advanced slowly down the pavement.

The whole town, as he went, showed itself empty and deserted, as

though a great wind had blown everything alive out of it. The doors and

windows of the houses stood open to the night; nothing stirred;

moonlight and silence lay over all. The night lay about him like a

cloak. The air, soft and cool, caressed his cheek like the touch of a

great furry paw. He gained confidence and began to walk quickly, though

still keeping to the shadowed side.