of Zcerneboh, and then, if we can, find some means to destroy him. Now, Hynek, you seemed to have known something about Zcerneboh, too. It is your turn to talk."
"All I can say," said Hynek, "is that some of the young people with whom I used to consort in Dresden have referred at times to Zcerneboh. They had some vague idea of a strange deformed hermit of magical power who lived in a cave somewhere along the wild banks of the Elbe. However, I attached little significance to the story until you mentioned the name at the University."
"Then," said Christian, "let us hurry to this place with all the speed our steeds can spare. And during our rests at night we can discuss means to destroy this Zcerneboh."
Through the plague-ridden country they rode. It was a five-day journey. Some of the communities they passed through seemed to have escaped the mania entirely. Others had been, or still were, in sieges as terrible as at Aix-la-Chapelle. The dancers, losing all control of their movements, continued whirling in wild delirium until they fell in extreme exhaustion, and groaned as in the agonies of death; some dashed out their brains against the walls. While dancing, they were insensible to external impressions, but were haunted by visions, such as being immersed in a sea of blood or of seeing the heavens open up and the Saviour enthroned with the Virgin Mary. Troops of dancers, inflamed by intoxicating music and followed by crowds who caught the mental infection, went from place to place, taking possession of religious houses and pouring imprecations against the priests. When they came close under windows householders would throw pails of cold water on them. It was September 3, 1374, when the trio from Paris reached Dresden, home of the margraves of Meissen. They found it a quaint and lovable city, devoid of the mania (hardly the center it was destined to become in another pair of centuries). After arming themselves with swords they crossed the Augustus Bridge to the northeast side of the Elbe and traveled several miles down the bank until they came to the area Planquette had described.
It was a long search through an extensive thicket before they came upon a trail. They followed it until it descended to the shore of the Elbe. Cleverly concealed among the reeds and watergrowth was a tiny harbor where a group of light skiffs was tied to willows.
"We are on the trail," said Dr. Planquette. "This must be their point of access to the ancient grotto."
"Then," suggested Christian, "we'll retrace our steps and follow the path to its other end."
Soon after passing the point where they had found the trail its course became winding and rugged. It led them between boulders, through dense gullies for several thousand feet.
At last they came to a division and chose the branch to the right. This made a series of left turns and finally completed a loop, returning them to the division.
"I think I understand," said Dr. Planquette, "let us follow this loop around once more." After several paces he stopped. "This spot looks familiar," he said, parting the bushes on the left side—revealing a yawning split in the rocks.
"The grotto!" exclaimed Dr. Plan-
