Henry and George were spending a friendly
evening together, talking pleasantly over their
wine glasses—about a very unpleasant subject!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
January 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The two men sat across from each other in soft leather chairs. Flamesfrom the fireplace before them licked upward and shadows danced onwalls and ceiling. The corners were in complete darkness.
"I say, George, this wine is exceedingly good," one of the men pouredrich red liquid from a large decanter into his goblet.
"Yes, Henry, it's quite good. Much better than brandy," answeredGeorge, swallowing hard and rolling his head.
"Yes, yes," said Henry, sighing deeply, his lips and chin stained fromthe beverage. "Yes. Yes. Nothing like good wine. Nothing like it."
"As I was saying," smiled George.
"Oh yes," Henry nodded, setting his goblet on the table and leaningforward in his seat. "Do continue with your story. You were telling meabout how you met the Devil last week, and had an interesting chat withhim." He winked mischievously.
George shook his head vigorously. "And I most certainly did. Yes. Metthe Devil and had an enjoyable chat. He's a splendid chap, you know.Not at all like those pictures you see of him. No horns or red monkeyoutfit. He dresses most conservatively; wears a black suit. And he hasnice gray hair." George patted his head. "Nice gray hair."
Henry poured himself another cup of wine and sipped it slowly. "Butwhat did you talk about? I mean you have nothing in common at all."
"Oh no?" George shrugged. "But we do. We have much in common. I admirethe Devil and told him so. And he said that he would be glad to have mecome and work for him."
"Work for him?"
"Yes. He wants me to go with him to his headquarters."
"But his headquarters are in ... a ... well you know."
"I know, but I still want to go. He said he would make me a demon or aghoul or something."
"Horrid, don't you think?"
"No, not at all." George gulped down the last of his wine. "Quitepleasant if I may say so. Quite a change from the market andspeculation and," he snorted loudly, "those damn commodities that Ilost so heavily on yesterday. No, I think I'd enjoy seeing things as ademon or a ghoul or something."
"What do you see?"
"Oh you know. Graveyards, coffins and corpses...."
Henry laughed. "Oh, that's amusing. Most amusing."
George smiled tightly. "And you see the dead in Hell, the fire andbrimstone, and you hear their cries of anguish and it's quite pleasant."
"Then why don't you go with the Devil and be done with it?"
"But I am going to go, Henry."
"Then go!"
"But I must do something first. It's a sort of qualification."
"Yes?"
"I must kill someone."
"But that's most naughty, old boy, isn't it?"
"Not when you have a good reason."
Henry held up the decanter and looked at the small amount of wine thatwas left. He shook his head sadly. "But who's going to be your victim?"
"You," answered George.
"Me?" said Henry, smiling.
"Yes, you."
"Are you mad?"
"No."
Henry stopped smiling and his face grew a trifle pale. He suddenly hadthe sickening feeling that George wasn't kidding him any more. "But whyme?"
George pulled a small revolver from his breast pocket. "I have it fromwhat I believe to be a thoroughly reliable source that while I was outof town last week you were out wi