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The grindstone had a double handle, and, turning at it madly were

two men, whose faces, as their long hair flapped back when the

whirlings of the grindstone brought their faces up, were more

horrible and cruel than the visages of the wildest savages in

their most barbarous disguise. False eyebrows and false

moustaches were stuck upon them, and their hideous countenances

were all bloody and sweaty, and all awry with howling, and all

staring and glaring with beastly excitement and want of sleep. As

these ruffians turned and turned, their matted locks now flung

forward over their eyes, now flung backward over their necks,

some women held wine to their mouths that they might drink; and

what with dropping blood, and what with dropping wine, and what

with the stream of sparks struck out of the stone, all their

wicked atmosphere seemed gore and fire. The eye could not detect

one creature in the group free from the smear of blood.