He has won free." Gerard came forward, and put the question at rest.

But all further explanation was cut short by a horrible unearthly noise, like a sepulchre ventriloquizing: "PARCHMENT!--PARCHMENT!--PARCHMENT!" At each repetition, it rose in intensity.

They looked up, and there was the dwarf, with his hands full of parchments, and his face lighted with fiendish joy and lurid with diabolical fire.

The light being at his neck, a more infernal "transparency" never startled mortal eye.

With the word, the awful imp hurled parchment at the astonished heads below.
Down came records, like wounded wild-ducks; some collapsed, others fluttering, and others spread out and wheeling slowly down in airy circles.