look, don't open
your eyes. Cover your face. Asafiel, the angel of Death is here. Don't
you feel his cold breath? Hush, cover yourself up, perhaps he does not
notice you."

Corsar clung to Azraele and covered his face with his hands.

"What do you want?" called Azraele, as if she were speaking with a
visible spirit. "Whom have you come for, black shade, your eyes
glowing with blue fire? There is nobody here but me. Corsar has not
come. Come later, come an hour later. Away with you, black creature!
May Allah crush you!"

Corsar did not dare open his eyes.

"Away with you, I say."

At this moment the lightning struck one of the bastions and shook the
mountains to their foundations. When the sound of thunder ceased, a
light fall of rain began on the roof; the roar of the storm grew more
and more distant; was heard dully near by and howled mournfully in the
distant woods.

"He has gone," whispered Azraele, in a barely audible tone. "He
promised to be back in an hour. Corsar, you can live just one hour."

"One hour!" repeated Corsar, with dulled senses. "Oh, Azraele, where
can you hide me?"

"That is quite impossible. Asafiel is relentless. One hour more and
then he will carry you off."

"Bargain with him. If he must have dead men, I will have a hundred
slaves beheaded. Promise him blood, treasure, prayers, burning
villages, everything. Only beg him to spare my life."

"It is of no use. In my dreams I saw your sword broken in two. Your
days are numbered. There is only one way of escape for you--one way of
baffling this bloodthirsty angel. Some one of the dead must exchange
names with you and Asafiel when he comes for you must drag him off in
your stead."

"That is right. That is right," stammered the strong man in fear.
"Find me such a dead man who will exchange names with me. You know the
incantations. Go call up somebody from his grave; promise him
everything, fellah or rajah, I will give him my name and take his. Go,
hurry."

"You must go yourself. Throw your cloak around you. Leave your weapons
here; spirits are afraid of sharp iron. We will go down into the
churchyard under the castle walls, set fire to amber and borax over a
tripod, plunge the magic staff into the most recent grave and so
compel its inmate to appear before you. When the spirit has appeared
you must take three steps toward him and call out three times bravely,
'Die for me!' Then the spirit will vanish and Asafiel will not call
for you