"Have you seen this snake again since coming North?"
"Yes," Ned replied. "I have. I was too stunned to speak when I read the epitaph, and I wandered back to the hotel in a sort of daze and packed my bags in silence. Possibly that's why there was no further visitation there. I don't know. I do know nothing further happened, though, and when several months had passed with nothing but my memories to remind me of the incident, I began to think I'd suffered from some sort of walking nightmare. Nella and I went ahead with preparations for our wedding, but three weeks ago the postman brought me this----"
He reached into an inner pocket and drew out an envelope. It was of soft gray paper, edged with silver-gilt, and the address was in tiny, almost unreadable script:
M. Édouard Minton, 30 Rue Carteret 30, Harrisonville, N. J.
"U'm?" de Grandin commented as he inspected it. "It is addressed à la française. And the letter, may one read it?"
"Of course," Ned answered. "I'd like you to."
Across de Grandin's shoulder I made out the hastily-scrawled missive:
_Remember your promise and the kiss of blood that sealed it. Soon I shall call and you must come._
"You recognize the writing?" de Grandin asked. "It is----"
"Oh, yes," Ned answered bitterly, "I recognize it; it's the same the other note was written in."
The boy smiled bleakly. "I crushed the thing into a ball and threw it on the floor and stamped on it. Swore I'd die before I'd keep another rendezvous with her, and----" He broke off, and put trembling hands up to his face.
"The so mysterious serpent came again, one may assume?" de Grandin prompted.
"But it's only a phantom snake," I interjected. "At worst it's nothing more than a terrifying vision----"
"Think so?" Ned broke in. "D'ye remember Rowdy, my airedale terrier?"
"He was in the room when I opened this letter, and when the cottonmouth appeared beside me on the floor he made a dash for it. Whether it would have struck me I don't know, but it struck at him as he leaped and caught him squarely in the throat. He thrashed and fought, and the thing held on with locked jaws till I grabbed a fire-shovel and made for it; then, before I could strike, it vanished.
"But its venom didn't. Poor old Rowdy was dead before I could get him out of the house, but I took his corpse to Doctor Kirchoff, the veterinary, and told him Rowdy died suddenly and I wanted him to make an autopsy. He went back to his operating-room and stayed there half an hour. When he came back to the office he was wiping his glasses and wore the most astonished look I've ever seen on a human face. 'You say your dog died suddenly--in the house?' he asked.