How the Devil Stole the Pyx from Saint Osbert's Church
Otzchiim
Devil in a Nunnery,” the title story of his 1912 collection, which is
repeatedly given as the source of a 1900 or so film but George Melies,
despite Melies being about out of business when the story seems to
have been first printed.
How the Devil stole the Pyx from Saint Osbert's Church
[by Francis Oscar Mann]
AT Easter this year Sir Geoffrey gave unto the parish church to
have and to keep for ever a fair silver pyx, wherein to preserve the
Blessed Body of Christ, which said vessel was beset about with many
precious gems and wrought with the utmost cunning of art, so that the
fame thereof spread into the country round, and many folk came many
miles solely to gaze upon it.
The Martinmas following came one Master Montalto to the village,
giving himself out to be a great master of physic and surgery from
Paris and Naples and other Universities across the seas. He gained
much credence with the people, inasmuch as he spoke with a wonderful
gift of words, and was by his own confession far seen in the medicinal
learning of the Moors and other heathen peoples. He lodged at the
hostelry with Meg Dogtooth, and on holidays was wont to stand in the
market-place and to speak to such as gathered round in the Greekish,
Moorish, and Arabic tongues, and that with such astounding fluency
that he never was at a loss for a single word. Also he sold there a
most potent and magical elixir, which could restore nature to those
sick of disease or wasted by process of age.
There accompanied him one Martin, his servant, whose tongue
never tired of magnifying and extolling the Doctor's skill and
learning. This fellow, amongst other things, said that his master had
cured Prester John's daughter of an imposthume in the neck, which she
had had seven years, and which the Royal College of Physicians had
despaired of; that he had restored sight to a certain blind pilgrim
who had vainly spent his substance and fifteen years in seeking aid at
the blessed shrines of Walsingham, Compostella, and elsewhere; and
that he had also made whole of the leprosy a noble lady of Maguntium
in High Germany.
This almost incredible skill of the Doctor gave many in the
village to suppose that he dealt in magic and kindred unlawful arts,
and this seemed the more probable inasmuch as the two weeks he
remained in the village he went not once to church, whereby neglecting
an observance which is strictly enjoined on all Christian men. Of this
took especial note Master Bailiff, who was Churchwarden that year.
Now one evening the Bailiff sat by the hostel fire talking with
Meg Dogtooth, when who should come in but man Martin, and would not be
gainsaid but the Bailiff must drink with him? When they had somewhat
drunk together the Bailiff laid gentle complaint to Martin that his
master, the Doctor, was over lax in his duty to Holy Mother Church.
'And for that I am right sorry, Master Bailiff,' said Martin,
'but, alas, he hath grown wondrous moody and passionate of late. Of a
night he doth not sleep, but walketh aye up and down our chamber,
wringing his hands, striking his breast and head, moaning and crying
out on Our Blessed Lady and the Saints. I cannot persuade him to peace
and quietness; he is sore troubled, and for my part I know not what to
think. He groweth as thin as a Lenten herring and as pale as a wax
candle, and he the greatest master of physic in the whole world. 'Tis
a sad sight for these eyes of mine, I warrant thee.'
'Belike he hath some naughty matter on his conscience,' quoth
the Bailiff cunningly. 'Maudlin of the Crossways was sorely troubled
in like manner when she could not make full confession for shame.'
'Lo, Master Bailiff, I see indeed my master was right yesterday,
when he said thou wert "vir doctissimus," which in the vulgar tongue
betokeneth a man most wise and sagacious. By Our Lady, thou persuadest
me to thine opinion. My master hath power over the body but none over
the soul, and therein lieth his sore. Would God there were some good
man of religion in the town to whom he might disclose himself.'
'Why, good Martin, there is Sir John, our priest. I never knew an
honester man of his cloth.'
'Sayest thou so, good sir? Then am I much beholden to thee for
thy good counsel, and right glad would I be to perform thy counsel
every whit. But alas, how might we come at Sir John? My master is
proud as the Devil himself, and, God forgive him. Master Bailiff,
loveth not priests.'
'I'faith, that shall be easily managed. Knowest thou not I am
Churchwarden?'
'Marry, I knew thou wert much esteemed of the townsfolk.'
'Ay, ay, let it pass if I am. I will deal with Sir John; do thou
deal with thy master and I warrant we shall bring them together. The
Parson and I would patch up thy Master's soul, were it rotten as
Northern cloth.'
'The Saints bless thee. Master Bailiff. Would I might persuade
the good Doctor to thy counsel, but, alack, I have not thy silver
tongue and subtle reasonings; the Blessed Virgin knows I am a poor
creature.'
'Why, good Martin, thou hast only to open thy mouth.'
'Ay, ay, thou talkest an I were a man of thy own coinage, when I
am but base metal. But, good Master Baillif, wouldst thou but step to
his chamber, where he sits even now moodily brooding all alone, I have
no manner of doubt but thou wouldst prevail with him, especially if
thou wouldst but consent to go with him to Sir John and join thy
advice to that of the Parson.'
The Bailiff hemmed twice or thrice, stroked his beard, and
emptied his tankard.
'Well, well, young man,' he said, 'e'en lead me to thy master.'
II
Good Sir John sat by his hearth fire. Over against him sat the
Bailiff exceeding drowsy, anon nodding to sleep, anon waking with a
start when his head fell overmuch forward on his breast. By the light
of the flickering fire and a small oil-lamp Sir John read aloud with a
running commentary from a great book he held upon his knees. The zeal
of his study consumed him ; his eyes shone with the excitement of his
argument, the continuity and vehemence of his exposition had made his
face red as a furnace.
'+Multa enim mala non egisset Daemon, nisi provocatus a sagis+'
saith mine author, Master Bailiff, which is as much as to say that the
Devil availeth precious little, unless he be titillated or spurred on
by warlocks, wizards, or witches, and much it is to be feared that
this wise Doctor, urged on or driven by an immoderate and hydropathic
love (or rather let me call it lust) of learning, hath fallen into a
cursed intercourse with the angels of darkness, who, as the blessed
Saint Austin saith in his book entitled in English +The City of God,+
having been deceived himself, goeth about to deceive others.
'+Daemones enim advocati praesto sunt, seque exorcismis et
conjurationibus quasi cogi patiuntur, ut miserum majorum genus in
impietate detineant.+' Lo, Master Bailiff, have we not witnessed proof
thereof ourselves? Did not old Mother Nightbird conjure a devil out of
a parsley bed, who incontinently deserted her in the end, as she
herself confessed, that she might perish in her mortal sin? Alas,
wretched men compel the Devil with spells, but the Devil afterwards
compelleth them with whips of scorpions. Satan feedeth them at first
with tit-bits from his own mouth as they were his own dear darlings,
but afterwards he turneth and rendeth them like a fierce hound,
gulping them down his foul black throat like so many morsels.'
'+Vitam turbant, somnos inquietant, irrepentes etiam in corpora
mentes terrent, ut ad cultum sui cogant; cum sint ipsi poenales,
querunt — et cetera.+' The Devil, Master Bailiff, the Devil
disquieteth human life, sendeth horrid dreams, terrifieth the mind,
that he may compel men to worship him, whereby committing deadly sin.
Of this, which I have thus obscurely and indeed somewhat brokenly
thrown out, make no doubt but that I shall treat at becoming length
and with much matter of illustration in my next Holy Day discourse.
But as another author saith, speaking the very words of truth, "+Vita
brevior---+ " Holy Saints defend us, what was that?'
'Eh?' said the Bailliff, starting up, 'eh?'
'Some one knocketh,' said the Parson.
''Tis the Doctor,' said the Bailliff, settling himself resolutely
in his chair.
Sir John closed his volume and laid it with a somewhat tremulous
hand upon the table. Taking the lamp in his hand he advanced to the
door.
'+In tuas manus, Domine+' he murmured as he unbarred and threw it
open.
A deep groan came from without, and an agonised voice exclaimed,
'Hence Hell-hounds, hence; as yet I am not yours.'
The next moment Doctor Montalto leapt flying over the threshold,
sending the good priest head over heels into the corner. Swiftly
slamming and barring the door behind him, he gave utterance to a long
hollow noise, half a sigh of relief and half a moan of despair. Then
he threw off his crimson gown and hood and wiped beads of sweat from
his brow, groaning horribly the while. He was tall and thin beyond
ordinary. His sparse black locks fell in wisps to his shoulders, his
face was mere bone upon which the skin was stretched tight and
transparent, his whitey blue eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, his
nose was hooked like a bird's beak, his mouth was a slit almost from
ear to ear. His yellow hose and scarlet doublet were embroidered with
cabalistic signs in green silk. In his belt were stuck a naked dagger
and a couple of tooth-drawers. Round his neck he wore two rows of
human teeth, the trophies of his art.
The Bailiff had pushed back his chair a little farther into the
corner. Sir John picked himself up and advanced hesitatingly towards
his penitent.
'The Saints bless thee,' he said. 'Thou art out of breath. Sit
thee and drink.'
The Doctor's face expanded laterally about the jaws, and he
seemed softly to smack his lips. Sir John filled a tankard with warm
ale. The Doctor took it in both hands and gulped it down at a draught.
He refilled it from the stoup on the hearth.
'Holy Father,' he said, and the tears fell from his eyes, 'I am a
lost soul.' He groaned and gulped his ale, and groaned again.
'Despair not, my son,' quoth the Parson. 'The brand may be
plucked from the burning even at the eleventh hour. The good Bailiff
here hath discoursed of thee to me. Lo, I have diligently consulted my
books, I have considered thy case, I discern the sickness in thy soul,
I will prescribe for thee, I will prognosticate concerning thee. This
is how the matter stands, is it not so? Thou art exceeding melancholy,
thou hauntest solitary places; sleeping, thy slumbers are broken with
horrible dreams ; waking, thou seest visions in the sky, thou hearest
voices in the air, thy food turneth to dust in thy mouth, thy drink
scarifieth thy throat ; is it not so?'
'Ay, ay,' moaned the Doctor, applying himself to his tankard.
'The Devil tempteth thee day and night, he allureth thee, he
fondleth thee. Perchance thou yieldest to him?'
'Worse, worse,' moaned the Doctor.
'Ha, ha,' cried Sir John, rubbing his hands, 'Methought I should
ferret thee out. Lo, Master Bailiff, you see what cometh of this book-
learning of mine?'
'Worse, worse,' cried the Doctor in a loud voice. 'I have sold my
immortal soul to the Devil for ever and aye.'
'Holy Mary,' cried the Bailiff, signing himself again and again.
Sir John dropped on his knees and rattled off prayers faster than
a woman could shell peas.
The Doctor emptied his tankard and turned it upside down on the
table with a bang.
'Listen,' he cried, stretching out his hand above his head in the
direction of the Parson, — 'Listen, and learn how I fell into
damnation. What a learned man should do with a wife I cannot tell, but
fool that I was, I married, and that was the beginning of sin.'
'Pardon,' cried the Priest, * but marriage is a Sacrament and
should be well esteemed of all men.'
'By thy leave,' continued the Doctor, 'I married one Mistress
Beatbush. She had some small jointure; I was her third husband, but at
first she did not seem to be so vile. However, when her portion was
spent, my gorge rose at her, for know, good gentlemen, her face was
withered and puckered like a Christmas apple, her voice like the
barking of dogs or croaking of frogs, and her foul tongue dropped
adders and vipers. Then did I call to mind the admonitions of the Holy
Apostle Paul, and beat her often, yea, I even threw her once into the
fire, and twice into our pond.'
'Certes,' cried the Parson, ' if thou didst this in measure and
for faults duly committed, there thou didst but rightly, as I could
prove to thee out of Gratian, did but time and circumstance serve.'
'I beat her strictly according to the canon,' said the Doctor.
'She was one huge fault, an offence both to God and man, and in those
days I was a right dutiful son of the Church.'
'And shall be yet, an I can help it,' interrupted Sir John.
'Prithee, do not interrupt, good Sir John,' quoth the Baihff, 'I
am right anxious to hear this story.'
'I will cut it short,' said the Doctor. 'One morning as I
meditated in my study according to my wont, I heard this wife of mine
yelping and barking in a quarrel with a neighbour, whereupon, consumed
with sudden wrath, I cried out, 'The Devil fly away with thee, thou
ill-conditioned bitch,' and, running to my books, straightway cast a
spell into the air, so that the Devil immediately leapt into my room
through the window.'
'Wrath, wrath, the beginning of sin,' exclaimed Sir John.
'He hath horns and hoofs and a great tail, hath he not?' asked
the Bailiff.
'Nay,' replied the Doctor. 'He was like an ugly black dog with a
white patch on his forehead.'
'Ay, ay, thou 'rt right,' cried the Parson. ' I have seen him
many a time, lurking about our God's acre, but he slinketh away fast
enough when he catcheth sight of me, I warrant you.'
'Lo,' resumed the Doctor. 'This Devil bargained to fly away with
my wife, as I had desired, and also to serve me faithfully for twenty
years, would I but surrender my soul to him. Unhappy wretch that I am,
I took the offer.'
'Oh, miserable man,' cried Sir John. 'That man, born of woman,
should be such a fool to wager his immortal soul against twenty short
years of pleasure and the evanishment of his wife.'
'Thou didst not know my wife,' said the Doctor indignantly.
'Methinks the terms were not unduly unreasonable,' quoth the
Bailiff. 'But, please God, Master Doctor, thou didst sign no paper?'
'Ay, but I did,' groaned the Doctor. 'I signed a monstrous long
roll of parchment, and the Devil took it away in his pocket, when he
left.'
'Saving thy reverence. Master Doctor, 'tis there thou played
foolishly,' said the Bailiff. 'I or any man would do business with the
Devil on the large terms thou mentionest, for I hold it no sin to
spoil the Egyptians, but to sign a paper, to bind thyself to the Devil
with a contract, that is horrid impiety indeed, that is rank heresy
and witchcraft. But hold, belike the Devil hath not kept his part of
the agreement. Hath he indeed served thy pleasure these twenty years
as 'twas set down in the deed ; otherwise, the one party not
fulfilling his oblgation, the other party cannot in equity be held
liable, and +ipso facto+ the aforesaid deed becometh null and void and
of no account?'
'I cannot grumble; the Devil hath given me twenty good years of
pleasure,' said the Doctor. 'I am lost, lost, lost.'
Sir John lifted his eyes to Heaven and moaned piteously.
The Bailiff coughed under his hand. 'I have heard,' he said,
'that the Devil is kind to his own. What manner of pleasure was it he
solaced thee with? We know full well what Christ can do for us, it
behoveth us to know what the Devil can.'
'Speak, good Doctor,' said Sir John, 'and let us hear what the
Bailiff desireth, and I will enshrine thy narrative in the little
treatise I purpose to endite +de Daemoniis,+ for the enlightenment and
warning of all Christian men.'
'Did he give thee gold?' asked the Bailiff.
'He did,' said the Doctor.
'What didst thou do with it?'
'I spent it.'
'Eh, I suppose thou wouldst.'
'Did he give thee power and glory over all the kingdoms of the
earth?' asked the Parson.
'He did.'
'How didst thou use it?'
'I tweaked the Pope's nose when he sat in Council with his
Cardinals and tripped the Emperor up on his belly, when he would have
kissed His Holiness' toe.'
'There thou didst rightly,' said the Parson. 'For I am a true son
of Holy Church and Peter is Peter, but this Pope is a fool and a
rascal, and I care not who hears me say it.'
'Did the Devil give thee wenches?' asked the Bailiff.
'Many and many a one,' said the Doctor with a sigh. 'I am fain,
yet right sad to think of them again; they were good wenches all, and
I heartily loved them, but nothing lasts long in this world. He
carried me on a rich Turkey carpet to the peerless palace of Ghengis
Khan, which is built all of precious stones and embowered in fair
gardens and orchards. Ah, many hundred happy days and nights have I
spent there, and the Khan's lovely wife and her beautiful maidens
conceived a great affection for me. Even now one of my sons is a
mighty emperor in the East.'
'This Devil seemeth a very honest gentleman,' said the Bailiff.
'Then,' continued the Doctor, 'seeing, as Solomon saith, there is
no satisfaction under the sun, I grew a little aweary even of this
Paradise, so I bade the Devil purvey me more pleasure elsewhere. So he
took me up on his back and carried me to Prester John's land, where he
made me to alight in the Empress's bosom in the form of a rose-petal.
I have three daughters who wear their golden crowns yet in that
court.'
'Meseemeth you have many children,' said the BaiUff.
'A few, a few.'
'Belike you had something to do with Mistress Catesby's wench?'
asked the Parson.
'Ay, ay.'
'And with Kate Carrywell?' said the Bailiff.
'Ay, ay.'
'And with Gilly Hedgerow?' said the Parson.
'Ay, ay.'
'And with Tib Rushring?' asked the Bailiff.
'Ay, ay.'
'And with Sim's wife of the Wry Mouth?' asked the Parson.
'Ay. ay.'
'As for my wife,' said the Bailiff in a rage, 'I defy you or any
man to speak ill of her.'
'Ay, ay,' said the Doctor, 'thy wife is as virtuous as any woman
in Christendom, I 'll be bound.'
' 'Tis well thou sayest so,' said the Bailiff.
'Come, Master BaiHff,' said the Doctor, 'bear no malice against a
man for a little worldly pleasure, which departeth more swiftly than
snow at Easter or the shaft from the bow. We are all sinners, all of
us. My bolt is shot, my shaft is sped, and this time to-morrow night
must I deliver up my soul to the Fiend and his everlasting torments.'
'What?' cried the Parson. 'Is thy term up? Must the Devil have
his own so soon?'
'He must, by the Blessed Virgin,' groaned the Doctor, smiting his
forehead and wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. 'To-
morrow at midnight, I am the foul Fiend's, unless, thou good man of
religion, thou canst save me.'
'Thou shouldst not have been so ready with other folk's wenches,'
said the Bailiff resentfully.
The Doctor fell on his knees before Sir John and raised his hands
in supplication.
'Holy Father,' he cried, 'save me, save me, save me! Reverend
priest, blessed clerk, devise some sacred sleight to save a miserable,
wretched, damned soul.'
Round tears fell from Sir John's eyes and tumbled over his
cassock.
'My poor son,' he quavered in a voice broken by sobs, 'thou shalt
have a good two quart or more of holy water.'
'An ocean of holy water would not save me,' groaned the Doctor.
'The Fiend would dry it all up with one blast from his foul, hot
mouth.'
'My son, my son; what shall I say? I will give thee the Blessed
Host to hold between thy teeth all night.'
'Holy Father, this is a full terrible and mighty Fiend. He would
bear me away in spite of the Host and but beat me the more fiercely
therefore in Hell-flames.'
'I have heard,' said the Parson, 'that the Devil may not come
into a holy and sanctified place.'
The Doctor leapt to his feet, clasped the Parson around the neck
and kissed him on both cheeks.
'Oh wise and sagacious Father,' he cried. 'Thou hast saved me,
thou hast saved me.'
'That I have,' said the Parson, ' but, but--- '
'Thou hast said it,' cried the Doctor, 'thou hast said it. Good
Sir John, of thy charity and for our dear Lord's sake, Who died on
tree, suffer me to bestow myself the morrow night in the church of the
blessed Saint Osbert.'
The Parson rose to his feet and put his hands on his plump hips.
' 'Tis done,' he said. ' 'Tis done. In that sanctified and holy
place will I bestow thee safe from the filthy claws of Satan, until
the time of peril be passed, and I have exorcised the fiend from thy
precious soul.'
The Doctor prostrated himself at the Parson's feet and wept his
gratitude.
'A thousand, thousand thanks, holy Father. And the better to make
certain, do thou also give unto me the key of the Church, that I may
lock fast the great door against the Devil and his angels.'
'Thou shalt have it, my son, and in the morning shall Master
Bailiff and I come to greet thee and sing +Jubilate+ with thee.'
' 'Tis a goodly device and a holy,' said the Bailiff, 'but I
would that there were some substitution in the contract, that thou
hadst been able to sub-enfief, to sub-let thy part in the deed to some
persona or body corporate, which hath neither a body to be smitten nor
a soul to be damned. Would that there were some substitution of the
liability set forth in the deed!'
The Doctor sat on the hearth, nursed his knees, and pondered.
'Thou art also, good Master Bailiff,' he said at last, 'a vir
doctissimus, a man truly sagacious and learned in all points of the
law. Verily thou art right, and I do begin to see clearly how we shall
outwit this cunning and cruel fiend.'
'Yes, verily, I am right,' said the Bailiff eagerly.
'Lo, then,' said the Doctor, ' I will substitute an image, a
simulacrum for the corporal body mentioned in the deed. To-morrow my
man Martin and I shall cunningly fashion a man of straw, and dress him
in seemly wise in my clothes, and when it is dark Martin shall carry
him hither and lay him in yonder corner with his face to the wall'
'Excellent, excellent,' cried Sir John. 'But why bring him
here?'
'The more to puzzle the fiend,' said the Doctor.
'And the further to perplex him I will leave word with mine
hostess that I am gone to see Sir John.'
'Yea, and the Devil shall carry away the man of straw in thy
stead?' said the Bailiff. 'An he do, methinks he is a great fool after
all.'
'Nay, he is cunning enough,' said the Doctor, 'but hasty,
terribly hasty, and I warrant he shall never find his mistake till he
be inside Hell-gates with his load of straw.'
' 'Tis a good jest and will work,' cried the Parson, 'or call me
no scholar.'
'When the Devil shall hear I am gone to Sir John's,' continued
the Doctor, 'he will fly hither at great pace, and for the protection
of my soul, and of the Holy Church and of thy dwelling-house, I do
most heartily beseech you, worthy gentlemen, that ye will therefore
watch here to-morrow night by my man of straw, and assist me with thy
continual prayers, stirring no jot nor ceasing from your holy
occupation, no matter what strange and belike unearthly noises ye do
hear from the Church.'
The Bailiff's jaw dropped, and the Parson stirred uneasily.
'Methinks,' said Sir John, 'the Devil is but a simple soul after
all, and would be deceived without our prayers.'
'Worthy, worthy gentlemen,' said the Doctor, 'as ye love God,
grant me my boon. If your prayers be lacking, there is no telling what
the Devil may do in this, thine house. Master Parson.'
'I should not like the house destroyed,' said Sir John.
'If ye only pray,' said the Doctor, 'it can suffer no harm, nor
ye yourselves in your bodies or souls, for I have heard the Devil
himself say, times out of mind, that there is nothing he feareth more
than a good man's prayers.'
The Bailiff shook his head. The Parson took a deep draught of
warm ale, heaved a deep sigh, and gazed into the fire.
'Master Doctor,' he said at length, 'I have always tried to do my
duty as it behoveth a Christian man and a priest, nor am I conscious
of any mortal sin upon my conscience. It shall never be said that I,
Sir John, Master of Arts in the University of Oxford and priest of
this parish, was ever afeard of a devil. I will pray by thy man of
straw, and mine honest Churchwarden shall pray with me.'
The Bailiff started and drew back suddenly,
'Nay, nay,' he cried.
'May the Holy Virgin bless thee,' cried the Doctor. 'I warrant
thee the Devil cannot harm such men as be of clean life.'
'Art afeard, Master Baihff ? ' asked Sir John.
'Nay, nay, not afeard,' said the Bailiff, 'but I would to God I
were a man of better life.'
'Nay, thou art a godly layman,' said Sir John. 'Wilt thou leave
the Shepherd to fight the Devil alone ? '
'I have been Churchwarden these ten years,' said the Bailiff.
'Thou knowest, Sir John, I have done what I might for Holy Church. But
to meet the Devil face to face--- '
'Thou shalt not be weary in well-doing,' cried the Parson. 'Do
thou but pray with me tomorrow night and I warrant thee it shall win
thee many indulgences.'
'Many, didst thou say. Sir John, many? Thou persuadest me
overmuch, but of my conscience, I--- '
'Marry then, it is agreed,' cried the Parson.
'Do thou. Master Doctor, lock thyself in the Church and give
thyself up to continual prayer before the sanctuary, and the good
Bailiff and I shall cease not importuning the Saints for thee, here by
thy man of straw.'
'I wish thou hadst taken thy Devil to another town,' quoth the
Bailiff to the Doctor, 'or thou hadst considered all this before
gadding about to wenches on Turkey carpets. Well, well, I would, by
Our Lady, I were a man of better life.'
Ill
It was very dark in the priest's little room. Right patiently had
the Baillif done his best to keep the fire in a blaze, blowing till
his cheeks had well-nigh burst and his beard had singed itself on the
hot coals, but, despite his efforts, it had sunk down into a mass of
glowing, weakly flickering embers. The oil-lamp gave out an uncertain
light, no moon or solitary star shone through the narrow window. The
silence was complete, save for the occasional stirring of a mouse, the
crackling of the embers, and the soughing of the wind round the house.
In one corner, with the faint light of the lamp cast carefully upon
it, lay the man of straw, habited in the scarlet cloak and hood of the
Doctor.
Sir John and the Bailiff were on their knees with their backs to
the wall and their hands upraised to Heaven. The Bailiff ever and
anon, as often as he heard a little noise, glanced fearfully round
about. Sir John prayed on in a low and tremulous tone.
'Prithee, cease not,' whispered the Bailiff anxiously, as the
Parson cleared his throat, 'cease not.'
'For the love of Heaven, sprinkle the holy water,' returned the
priest. 'More, more, all round, all round.'
'Curse them again, good Father, curse them again,' muttered the
Bailiff, sprinkling holy water with a subdued vigour from a large
bucket, which stood by his side.
'By the authority of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Ghost,' recommenced the priest, 'and of Our Lady, Saint Mary, God's
Mother of Heaven, and all other Virgins, and of Saint Michael and all
other Angels, and of Saint Peter and all other Apostles, of Saint
Nicholas and all other Confessors, and of all other Saints of Heaven
Blessed Mary, didst thou not hear that? '
'Yea, ah, nay; 'twas but the wind. Curse them again; to it
heartily. Sir John,' replied the Bailiff, 'Mother of God, how thick
and fast do I remember my old sins, this night.'
The priest continued his exorcism.
'We accurse and ban and depart from this holy place, and damn
into the everlasting pains of hell all devils, fiends, warlocks,
witches, fairies, and goblins, whatsoever and of what degree, whether
of the air above or of the earth beneath or of the waters under the
earth. We accurse — Oh Mary, 'tis he--- '
'Help, help! O Mary, aid us,' cried the Bailiff. The wind dropped
suddenly and there was silence again. Sir John supported his trembling
body on the quaking body of the Bailiff, and quavered forth once
more :
'We accurse thee within and without, going or staying, in wood,
in water, or in field. Accurse them. Father and Son and Holy Ghost;
accurse them Angels and Archangels and all the Nine Orders of Heaven;
accurse them, Patriarchs, Prophets and Apostles and all God's
disciples and all Holy Innocents, Martyrs, Confessors and Virgins,
Monks, Canons, Hermits, Priests and Clerks.'
By this time Priest and Bailiff clung together in mortal terror.
Their teeth chattered, their knees turned to water under them, their
bones were loosened, a clammy sweat bathed them both, their hair stood
on end.
'Curse, Sir John, curse, for God's sake, or we are lost,' gasped
the Bailiff.
'+Fiat Fiat Domine,+' groaned the Parson.
The next moment the door was flung suddenly open, a thunderbolt
from the darkness hurtled across the room and upset the oil-lamp, a
nauseous smell of burning filled the air, smoke and flames leapt up to
the ceiling from the straw figure in the corner. Ten thousand devils
seemed to belabour the Priest and the Bailiff, countless stout blows
were showered on their bodies, countless buffets were bestowed on pate
and back and midriff until they roared and shrieked again. Then
suddenly the blows ceased and they were left in darkness and silence
once more.
'Ugh,' groaned the Bailiff as he came to himself, 'I am a mass of
bruises. Never will I speak evil of the Devil again; he hath broken my
back, I think.'
'Oh Mary,' moaned the Priest, 'I ache all over; 'twas a heavy-
handed Devil, or a legion of them at least.'
'I wish, by Our Lady,' quoth the Bailiff savagely, 'the Devil
would exercise a little discretion and know his own from others. We
haven't sold our souls to him, we haven't spent his gold and had his
pretty wenches. Methinks thou chosest a mighty inapt prayer. Sir John,
that we caught such a shrewd beating.'
'It might have been worse but for our prayers,' replied the
Parson.
'It could not have been much worse,' said the Bailiff. 'This
meaneth a leech and bed for a week for me ; Devil-watching is no fit
pastime for a man of my years. Who next selleth himself to the Devil
will get no help of me, I promise thee.'
'Canst creep to the fire and light the lamp?' moaned Sir John.
'The cursed Devils have beaten me so I cannot move a limb.'
The Bailiff crawled to the fire and re-lit the smouldering lamp
and piled light wood on the fire.
Satan had not been deceived, and had not carried off the man of
straw. Nevertheless he had grievously and spitefully used him by
fire.
'Lo, the power of the Fiend,' said Sir John, displaying the
effigy's entrails all blackened and charred. 'Yet doubt not the Doctor
hath safely defied him in the inviolable sanctity of the blessed Saint
Osbert.'
The Bailiff grunted and tenderly handled his posterior. 'Then
would God I had been in his place and he in mine,' he said.
'If thou wilt reach to yonder shelf,' said the Parson, 'thou wilt
find a pot of ointment. Let us anoint each other's bruises and rest,
as we may till morning, when we will go greet the Doctor, whose soul
we have this night most indubitably saved.'
How vainly they, who fall into the Devil's snare, may hope to
give him the slip at last, was made plain and evident to all men's
sight the next morning, when the Parson and the Bailiff crept through
the priest's garden to the Church to see how it had fared with the
Doctor.
They found the great door locked, whereat Sir John was at first
mightily pleased, saying that the Gates of Hell should not prevail
against the Sanctuary of the Most High. Then he called repeatedly,
through the key-hole, telling the Doctor that all was well and that he
should open to them. But the Doctor opened not, whether absorbed in
prayer or overcome by fasting they knew not, so they were fain to send
for the smith, and he, after two hours' labour forced open the door
with much difficulty and effort.
Then they searched the Church and, finding no trace of the
Doctor, they were forced to conclude that the Devil had carried him
off after all, even from the altar itself, whereat Sir John's jaw
drooped lamentably. Moreover, they discovered that the foul Fiend had
spirited away with him also the fair silver pyx, which Sir Geoffrey
had given to the Church for ever, and which indeed no man hath seen
since, nor the eight pennies which were in the parish chest, nor the
rich vestments used by Sir John on Holy Days, nor the three pounds of
best wax candles, which the Churchwardens had purchased against
Candlemas.
Lo, how wondrous is God's providence, for at that very time when
the Devil carried off Doctor Montalto, he carried off also his man
Martin, so that these two and their goods vanished altogether into
thin air and could never be heard of afterwards. Whereat Mistress
Dogtooth was much vexed, inasmuch as they had not paid her reckoning.
But the village folk laughed when she complained thereof, and said the
Doctor would pay her reckoning hereafter.