A Sardonic Novel of Witchcraft
Complete In This Issue
THE STRANGE CASE OF
JACOB ARUM
By JOHN HARRIS BURLAND
IT WAS SAID—openly enough—in the village that there was something wrong about Jacob Arum; but I always put that down to the natural impulse of simple country folk to regard any eccentric person with suspicion. I should be sorry to tell you all the crimes that were from time to time laid to the account of this man who had, for no apparent reason whatever, come to live among us.
Some said that he was wanted by the police for fraud or burglary or even murder. There were others—and those a little out of date—who averred that he had been a pirate, and that the gold and jewels he had taken from dead men on the high seas were kept in great iron-bound boxes in his cellar.
Then there was one old woman who was certain that he had made a compact with the devil, that he would never die, and that he would live on in agony until the end of the world.
"And mebbe," she said, "that little ugly black fellow be the devil himself."
The "little ugly black fellow" was Jacob Arum's only servant. His name was Brike, and when he went into the village to purchase anything for his master, the boys hid themselves behind walls and hooted at him.
"You be the devil!" they would shriek. "Take care as the parson don't see you."
But Brike, a hump-backed, limping little man, with long, powerful arms and
