"No, my lord," Mercurius said; "Sir Roger is dead, but cometh on a matter of business; and I have the honor to act as his counsellor and attendant.""Nephew," said Sir Roger, "the daemon saith justly; I am come on a trifling affair, in which thy service is essential.""I will do anything, uncle, in my power.""Thou canst give me life, if thou wilt?" But Sir Randal looked very blank at this proposition."I mean life spiritual, Randal,"said Sir Roger; and thereupon he explained to him the nature of the wager.
Whilst he was telling his story, his companion Mercurius was playing all sorts of antics in the hall; and, by his wit and fun, became so popular with this godless crew, that they lost all the fear which his first appearance had given them.The friar was wonderfully taken with him, and used his utmost eloquence and endeavors to convert the devil; the knights stopped drinking to listen to the argument; the men-at-arms forbore brawling; and the wicked little pages crowded round the two strange disputants, to hear their edifying discourse.The ghostly man, however, had little chance in the controversy, and certainly little learning to carry it on.Sir Randal interrupted him."Father Peter," said he, "our kinsman is condemned for ever, for want of a single ave: wilt thou say it for him?" "Willingly, my lord," said the monk, "with my book;" and accordingly he produced his missal to read, without which aid it appeared that the holy father could not manage the desired prayer.But the crafty Mercurius had, by his devilish art, inserted a song in the place of the ave, so that Father Peter, instead of chanting an hymn, sang the following irreverent ditty--"Some love the matin-chimes, which toll The hour of prayer to sinner:
But better far's the mid-day bell, Which speaks the hour of dinner;For when I see a smoking fish, Or capon drown'd in gravy, Or noble haunch on silver dish, Full glad I sing mine ave.
"My pulpit is an ale-house bench, Whereon I sit so jolly;A smiling rosy country wench My saint and patron holy.
I kiss her cheek so red and sleek, I press her ringlets wavy;And in her willing ear I speak A most religious ave.
"And if I'm blind, yet heaven is kind, And holy saints forgiving;For sure he leads a right good life Who thus admires good living.
Above, they say, our flesh is air, Our blood celestial ichor:
Oh, grant! mid all the changes there, They may not change our liquor!"And with this pious wish the holy confessor tumbled under the table in an agony of devout drunkenness; whilst the knights, the men-at-arms, and the wicked little pages, rang out the last verse with a most melodious and emphatic glee."I am sorry, fair uncle,"hiccupped Sir Randal, "that, in the matter of the ave, we could not oblige thee in a more orthodox manner; but the holy father has failed, and there is not another man in the hall who hath an idea of a prayer.""It is my own fault," said Sir Rollo; "for I hanged the last confessor." And he wished his nephew a surly good-night, as he prepared to quit the room.
"Au revoir, gentlemen," said the devil Mercurius; and once more fixed his tail round the neck of his disappointed companion.
The spirit of poor Rollo was sadly cast down; the devil, on the contrary, was in high good humor.He wagged his tail with the most satisfied air in the world, and cut a hundred jokes at the expense of his poor associate.On they sped, cleaving swiftly through the cold night winds, frightening the birds that were roosting in the woods, and the owls that were watching in the towers.
In the twinkling of an eye, as it is known, devils can fly hundreds of miles: so that almost the same beat of the clock which left these two in Champagne, found them hovering over Paris.They dropped into the court of the Lazarist Convent, and winded their way, through passage and cloister, until they reached the door of the prior's cell.
