Next morning Durtal woke later than usual.

Before he opened his eyes there was a sudden flash of light in his brain, and troops of demon worshippers, like the societies of which Des Hermies had spoken, went defiling past him, dancing a saraband.

"A swarm of lady acrobats hanging head downward from trapezes and praying with joined feet!" he said, yawning.

He looked at the window.

The panes were flowered with crystal fleurs de lys and frost ferns.