For a little while, Jan, only for a
little while, and I will give you all you desire."
The old man seized his pen and wrote.
"See, Jan, the ship is yours beyond mishap; the mill goes free; your
father may hold up his head again. And all I ask, Jan, is that you
drink to me, willing the while that your soul may go from you and
become the soul of old Nicholas Snyders--for a little while, Jan, only
for a little while."
With feverish hands the old man had drawn the stopper from the
pedlar's flagon, had poured the wine into twin glasses. Jan's
inclination was to laugh, but the old man's eagerness was almost
frenzy. Surely he was mad; but that would not make less binding the
paper he had signed. A true man does not jest with his soul, but the
face of Christina was shining down on Jan from out the gloom.
"You will mean it?" whispered Nicholas Snyders.
"May my soul pass from me and enter into Nicholas Snyders!" answered
Jan, replacing his empty glass upon the table. And the two stood
looking for a moment into one another's eyes.
And the high candles on the littered desk flickered and went out, as
though a breath had blown them, first one and then the other.
"I must be getting home," came the voice of Jan from the darkness.
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