He knew the fellow for one that the village of Edom called "daft" or "queer," yet held to be harmless--to be rather amusing, indeed, since he could be provoked to deliver curious harangues upon the subject of revealed religion.

He remembered now that the man's face had stared at him from far back in the church the night before--a face full of the liveliest terror, though he had not been among those that fled to the mercy-seat.

Acceding to the man's request, he followed him up a wooded path to his cabin.

Dismounting and tying his horse, he entered and, turning to ask where the sick man was, found himself throttled in the grasp of a giant.
He was thrust into an inner room, windowless and with no door other than the one now barred by his chuckling captor.

And here the Reverend Allan Delcher had lain three days and two nights captive of a madman, with no food and without one drop of water.
From the other side of the log partition his captor had declared himself to be the keeper of hell.