What was it? An
object that glittered evilly like two eyes. She got up in a state of
the most hideous fascination and walked towards it. Then she laughed
again--it was a pair of scissors. The nurse's scissors--clean, bright,
and sharp. Why did she pick them up and feel the blades so caressingly
with her thumb? Why did she glance from them to the baby? Why? In the
name of God, why? Frightful ideas laid hold of her mind. She tried to
chase them away but they quickly returned. The scissors, why were they
in her fingers? Why could not she put them down? For what were they
intended? Cutting! cutting thread, and tape,--and throats! Throats!
And she giggled hysterically at the bare notion. But what was this
round her waist--this shadowy arm-like object! She looked fearfully
round, and her soul died within her as she encountered the
malevolent, gleeful eyes of the sinister piper, pressed closely
against her face. Was it she he wanted this time--she, or--or whom--in
the name of all that was pitiable?
Desperately, as if all the lives in the universe and the future of her
soul were at stake, did she struggle to free herself from his
grasp--but in vain; every fibre, every muscle of her body was
completely at his will. On and on he pushed her, until foot by foot,
inch by inch, she approached the cradle, and all the while his hellish
voice was breathing the vilest of inspirations into her brain. At last
she stood by the side of the baby, and bent over it.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134