"When I told you I would turn the bus over, I signaled to the old
witch with my handkerchief.... I was as surprised as you were," said
Marie. "The driver climbed off and held his head, and the two fat women
pretended it didn't happen at all! I laugh whenever I think of it.
"After you had gone the witch came over here. She was excited. Were
you interested? Did you believe? What did you say? I told her how you
said five days and a half was a long time. 'They all say that,' the
witch said. 'But I know _he_ will decide. When he realizes he has the
omnipotent wish, he will use it to realize his greatest desire and then
we shall see what we shall see!
"'He will make a mad wish. He will wish for an end of suffering!'--she
shivered as if this frightened her--'and then ... God knows! Or he
will wish for justice; Or he will wish to be the richest man in the
world!... He is so young, so American!'"
Spike moved in his chair as an idea stirred uneasily in him.
"That night there was thunder and lightning and heavy rain!" Marie
continued.
"I should say there was! The lightning struck the School of St.
Sulpice, almost next door to my _pension_, and broke some windows."
"... But only shook the dust off the words carved on the stones!" Marie
put in. "The witch worried because you looked out your window and read
them the first night. She kept saying, 'I wish he hadn't said them
over! I wish he hadn't looked out the window just then, before it was
dark.' She was afraid the words would have an effect on you."
"How could they have an effect on me?"
"They are sacred--'_Qui a Jesus a Tout!_' What did you think when you
read them that first night?"
"I forget. They had a brave, lonely sound. They were friendly and sort
of sad. I was scared about something for a minute. Then I forgot the
words."
"I think the lightning was hers," Marie said. "But it didn't work. I
think she ought to leave Parochial Schools alone!"
"I'm no Catholic!" Spike put in cautiously. "I'm not even a Lutheran.
I'm a Lutheran atheist, if you get what I mean!"
They were religiously silent for a moment.
"_Dites!_" Spike exclaimed suddenly. "How did you know I looked out my
window; who told you what I saw out my window?"
"The _witch_ told me!" Marie seemed surprised at his question. "We had
long talks every day. That first day after I had given you the ring she
said, 'Come and see me this afternoon--_Numero une, Place des Vosges_.
The _concierge_ sleeps in the afternoon, so don't ring. You'll find the
outer door unlocked. Walk right in and climb two flights of stairs,
then turn to your right and go up the narrow half flight that branches
off from the second floor landing. Knock at the little door. About
four-thirty,' she said. 'We'll have tea _à l'Anglaise_' and giving me
one of her make-believe smiles, she went running down the _Boulevard
Montparnasse_.
"I did some things and then walked across the river and it was five
when I opened the door of _Numero une_. You know the _Place des
Vosges_, m'sieu, old buildings around a public garden--the side
streets enter through tunnel-passages under the buildings. A thousand
children squeal in the garden.
"I could hear the snores of the _concierge_ as I went tip-toe past her
door. The stair was very dark and I went one step at a time, feeling
along the rail. But there was no rail on the witch's own stairs, and
before her door, no landing--only the top step. I was frightened, even
a little dizzy. I knocked and waited for a long time in the dark,
hearing nothing.
"There was the sound of breathing, and a metallic click. Some one was
looking at me through a slot in the door.
"'_Alors?_' in a whisper.
"'It is Marie,' I said, feeling like a conspirator. She opened the door
wide.
"'_Bon soir! Marie. Entrez. Entrez!_'
"I had to lower my head to get in and her dark hallway was as low as
the entrance. Beyond were two rooms connected by an arched doorway.
In the first room I could stand erect, but the second was low like a
cave--the floor was two steps nearer the ceiling and it was more than
half filled with piles of papers and brown note-books. The two windows
in the larger room were half circles. They began at the floor so that
one had to stoop to look out into the square.
"I had a feeling of being pressed up against the roof. Everything was
out of proportion--the carving of the ceiling, the enormous chandelier,
the windows, the dusty furniture. After a while I realized the rooms
were the top half of an old high-ceilinged drawing room.
"Under the arch of the doorway stood a low black desk, piled with dusty
papers. I counted five ink bottles, and six quill pens, one of them
broken in half. All around the desk were piles of dusty papers. They
seemed to flow out from the cave-room. Every chair was covered with
them.
"The witch sat down at the desk, resting her elbows on it, her claws in
her hair. She studied some papers and seemed to forget me. I picked a
note-book off a stool and sat down."