The Equinox (Volume I, Number IV)

THE EQUINOX The twelve disciples felt that something was going to happen, but knew not what. An awful feeling overcame their will; they dared not move. Then, suddenly, the twelve of them jumped up and fell on the floor, curling themselves, howling with intense pain and agony, all in a sweat, their bodies aching with all the torments of Fire. They could hear the old man, by his table, cursing them and hitting the wax figures with the hot poker, haphazard, careless of the spot where he struck; but he struck them all equally. The contortions of the men on the yellow painted floor were terrible. He took no heed of them, and went on, cursing them each by name and each time hitting one figure, corresponding to the name he was cursing. Finally, the red-hot iron had turned black again; and Elphénor’s arm was becoming tired. He gathered all the wax figures and went and threw them all into a large pail of water, pushing them down again and again as they came to the surface. His victims were gradually coming back to their senses. Once more he gathered their waxen images and replaced them on the shelf. Then he turned to his disciples and shouted: “Sit down, ye workers of Iniquity. Did you feel the draught—or not? Do not interrupt me again. And if anyone knocks again at the door, clear ye out of my visual path.” They were all trembling with excitement and a mixed feel- ing of anger and desire for a power equal to his. Elphénor blew on the charcoal and incense, turned out the lamp over the three crystal globes, so that they were now almost in utter darkness, and took up the thread of his narrative. “The Lady who now comes before the footlights fell short 302