A Modern Mephistopheles and A Whisper in the Dark

Without a midwinter twilight where wandering snowflakes eddied in the bitter wind between a leaden sky and frost-bound earth.. Within a garret; gloomy bare and cold as the bleak night coming down.. A haggard youth knelt before a little furnace kindling a fire with an expression of quiet desperation on his face which made the simple operation strange and solemn.. A pile of manuscript lay beside him and in the hollow eyes that watched the white leaves burn was a tragic shadow terrible to see—for he was offering the first-born of heart and brain as sacrifice to a hard fate.. Slowly the charcoal caught and kindled while a light smoke filled the room. Slowly the youth staggered up and gathering the torn 8sheets thrust them into his bosom muttering bitterly Of all my hopes and dreams my weary work and patient waiting nothing is left but this. Poor little book we'll go together and leave no trace behind.. Throwing himself into a chair he laid his head down upon the table where no food had been for days and closing his eyes waited in stern silence for death to come and take him.. Nothing broke the stillness but the soft crackle of the fire which began to flicker with blue tongues of flame and cast a lurid glow upon the motionless figure with its hidden face. Deeper grew the wintry gloom without ruddier shone the fateful gleam within and heavy breaths began to heave the breast so tired of life.