He could not
distinguish her face, but it was certainly a woman of great age and
bodily weakness, whose tangled hair hung down her back, and who halted
curiously upon one foot as she walked. She was bending over a low
couch, whereon lay a little shrouded figure, from which proceeded the
low whimpering sound which he had heard from without. But even at that
moment, as he waited trembling at the door, the moaning ceased, and
there ensued a long silence, in which Laurence could clearly
distinguish the beating of his own heart. It sounded loud in his ears
as a drum that beats the alarm in the streets of a city.
The figure of the woman bent low to the couch, and, after a pause,
with a satisfied air she threw a white cloth over the shrouded form
which lay upon it. Then, without looking towards the door where
Laurence stood, she went to the great iron altar at the upper end of
the weird chapel and threw something on the red embers which glowed
upon it.
"_Barran--most mighty Barran-Sathanas, accept this offering, and
reveal thyself to my master!_" she said in a voice like a chant.
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