Hard Bargain

a maiden untouched by human hands--that's all he wanted

On Tuesday, Preisinger saw the Devil's face in the mirror just as he finished shaving.

It might have seemed odd, but with Preisinger it was an old story. Every Tuesday morning, there it was, regular as daylight. This morning he regarded the face coldly. "You," he said, "had better drop by for a chat, I think."

"Really?" said the Devil.

"Really," said Preisinger. "We're supposed to have a bargain, you know. And you're not holding up your end at all. You'd better stop by, or I'm afraid the deal is off."

He finished his shave, and walked into the solarium to ring for breakfast. Only three years gone, he mused. Seven years to go. And seven years was really quite a long time.

He was finishing his orange juice and coffee when the Devil stepped through the wall into the room. The Prince of Thieves smelled slightly of sulphur and scorched cloth. He was tall and handsome in his sleek black Homburg and fine black Chesterfield. In his hand was a slender ebony walking stick.

"Now what is this foolishness," he said, "about canceling our bargain? Just three years gone, and already you're complaining?"

"I've a perfect right to complain," said Preisinger coolly. "You're slipping. You haven't been doing right by me. You aren't keeping your end of the bargain at all. Not at all."

The Devil glanced around the room. "Well, now," he said. "You seem to be doing quite well. The finest penthouse apartment in the city. Ample funds to maintain it. Hardly my taste in clothing, but that's your business." He looked sharply at Preisinger. "You do look a trifle peaked, though. Hard night last night?"

"Not the most gratifying night imaginable," said Preisinger.

"Really? Something wrong with the supply?"

"Oh, no," said Preisinger. "Quite the contrary. They flock to me. Everywhere I turn there are girls, dozens of girls."

"Ah!" The Devil frowned slightly. "Are they unwilling? Do they reject your attentions? Or perhaps they're a bit too bold, eh?"

Preisinger shook his head. "No, no. Nothing like that."

"Well, then! Has the variety been unsatisfactory? Do you find them unattractive? No?" The Devil shrugged. "Then you disqualify your own claim. What more could you ask? You have seven years to go -- but I've kept my part of the bargain."

"The letter, perhaps," said Preisinger. "Not the spirit. Your part of the bargain was to please me completely, and I've never quite been pleased. Something has been missing from the start."

"If you're talking about love, I can't help you there," said the Devil. "It's quite out of my line, you know."

"Nothing so maudlin as that," said Preisinger quickly. "No, it's much harder to define." He leaped to his feet, groping for words. "These girls are too -- how can I explain it? -- too knowledgeable. There's nothing for them to learn. Yes, that's it! They seem so -- experienced."

"I thought that was considered a virtue," said the Adversary dryly.

"But can't you see?" said Preisinger. "They know all the rules! They perform like puppets on a string. There's no feeling of achievement, no sense of awakening ----"

But now the Devil's eyes gleamed with understanding. "You mean it's innocence you want!" He guffawed. "You come to me in quest of innocence? How delightfully naive! Think of it! For 10 earthly years I must supply you with unlimited ease and wherewithal plus the loveliest girls in the world to satisfy your most extravagant whim. In return I am to receive from you an insignificant trifle that you don't even believe exists -- your soul." The Devil roared with laughter. "And now you demand innocence as well!" He paused. "An intriguing idea, but ridiculous. Quite ridiculous."

"You mean you can't do it," said Preisinger.

"I mean nothing of the sort," snapped the Devil. "A completely innocent maiden, untouched by human hands ----" He stroked his chin. "Difficult. Incredibly difficult."

"But could you?" demanded Preisinger. "If you only realized how fearfully dull these others are -- could you possibly do it?"

"Hardly," said the Devil, "under our present contract. This would take work, time, the greatest delicacy. The price would be high." He looked at Preisinger. "Would you give me your remaining seven years?"

Preisinger's face grew pale, but he nodded slowly. "Anything," he said.

The Devil beamed. "Then it's done. You'd have one night with her only, of course. More would be unthinkable."

Preisinger's fingers trembled. "She must be perfect. It must be worth a hundred thousand other nights."

"You have my word," said the Devil.

"I must be the first man, absolutely the first, even in her mind ----"

"That is understood."

"And if you fail -- the entire bargain is off."

The Devil smiled. "Agreed. And if I succeed ----" He touched the coffee cup with his ebony stick and it turned glowing red. "One night," he said, and vanished through the wall.

• • •

For five days Preisinger waited.

Before, he had been sated and dulled; now he was vibrant with anticipation. But as the days passed he grew jumpy and irritable. Each new face he saw on the street he scanned eagerly, then turned away in disappointment. His nerves grew taut. His body and mind were filled with an uncommon yearning.

On the sixth day he found her, late in the afternoon, in the basement gallery of a small art museum.

She was tall and slender. Her hair was ash blonde, her mouth full. She walked with grace, inconspicuously conspicuous, self-contained, an island to herself. She was cool as a March breeze, and warm as laughter by the fireside.

She was delightful.

He followed her, and spoke to her, and she smiled at him without suggestion. They moved through the gallery together. Her laughter was cheerful; her eyes warmed as she looked at him.

He learned that her name was Moira and that she was 19 years old. He learned many other things that did not interest him in the least. They left the gallery and walked in the park and looked across at the city and talked.

Preisinger suggested cocktails.

"Fine," said the girl. "But I've never had a cocktail."

"Incredible," said Preisinger.

"But true," said the girl.

They had two cocktails, but no more. They talked about art and music and books, and her understanding was gratifying. They talked about love and desire and fulfillment, and her innocence was disarming.

Presently they ate and danced on a roof garden high above the city. She danced with ease and innocence. Preisinger steeled himself as her cheek touched his and her body moved close to his. Control, he told himself, patience. She was the one, she was what he had sought for so long, but it was too soon, too soon ----"

She was delighted by the lights of the city below. She breathed deeply of the night air, and her nearness to him was overwhelming. "There is a better view where I live," he said. "We could have some music, perhaps a little wine."

She smiled up at him. "Yes," she said. "That would be good. I'd like that."

The view was better from his windows. The colors below were breathtaking. The music took on new meanings; the wine was his finest stock, its color delightful, its flavor superb. They talked and laughed softly, and then they were silent. The lights dimmed gently, the firelight glowed.

She was sublime.

He did not realize until later that he had not been the first.

The Devil had failed, after all, and he was free. The thought caressed him as he slept with his head on her shoulder.

• • •

In the morning she was gone, and the Devil stood by the window, twirling his ebony stick with impatience.

Preisinger saw him and burst out laughing. "You fool," he cried. "You couldn't quite bring it off, and yet I didn't mind a bit. You didn't keep the bargain, but you gave me what I had to have, all the same."

The Devil just looked at him.

Preisinger stopped laughing. "Well? Why are you waiting? We're finished, get out! The bargain is void."

"Not quite," said the Devil. "I gave you what you requested."

"But not to the letter," cried Preisinger. "I was not the first. Another man was before me ----"

And then the Prince of Liars was laughing as smoking tears poured from his eyes. "And you call me a fool," he said. "Did you really think I could command innocence without blemish? Ridiculous. I never could. Of course there was another -- but the Devil is the Devil, not a man."

And with a roar of laughter he led Preisinger through the wall into the furnace.