"Of a truth we are undone," said Ralph; "our master will never more trust us."

"We are like to be beaten to death with the tempest," said Walter "Who can stay the power of this evil Spirit, that our mad curiosity has thus let loose?"

Now, luckily, the magician no sooner beheld the tempest than he at once divined the cause of this hubbub of the elements, and with commendable prompt.i.tude he proceeded with all speed to the spot where the students lay with the magical volume. Arrived there, he p.r.o.nounced an incantation, and then by magic means known to himself alone, rapidly stilled the tempest, which the ill-timed curiosity of his pupils had brought forth. In the words of the old chronicle, he "laid the evil spirit, commanding him as a punishment to make a rope of sand to reach the sky."

Which venture no doubt had a salutary effect upon the spirit, for there is no later mention of any similar antics on its part. We may conclude from this circ.u.mstance, that the spirit has found the task a.s.signed it as a punishment, greater than it can discharge, and that it is still labouring away at the sand rope, which is not much nearer reaching the sky than it was when the work first begun.

XVI.

The Parson's Wife,

In olden time Providence often punished the sins of men and women in some remarkable fashion. The divine retribution often followed swiftly upon the violation of the sacred rules of life. We frequently read of profane men and women whose blasphemy has been instantly followed by some paralytic seizure, or who, when guilty, and protesting their innocence have called down heaven's vengeance on their heads if they were not even then stating the truth, have been at once rendered lifeless by some strange stroke of the divine power. The following story will ill.u.s.trate this principle.

There was once a parson of Mottram--his name and the date of his holding the benefice are for obvious reasons not mentioned--who had a peculiar wife. In many respects she was a loveable woman, but she possessed a nose formed like a pig's snout, and she was forced to eat her meals out of a silver trough specially provided for her. How she came to win the affections of the parson, is not known, it might have been that she had riches to make up for her deficiency in beauty of countenance, or it might have been that the parson saw in her compensating charms which were not obvious to the rest of mankind.

This tradition only deals with the cause of her strange infirmity.

Her parents were very wealthy; her mother was a haughty dame who worshipped wealth, and looked down on all people who were humble in station. To those wealthier than herself, or whose social standing was above her own, she was most polite and agreeable, and willing to go to any trouble no matter how great, to win their friendship and esteem, but to those who were poor, no matter how estimable they might be in mind, ability, or real worth, she was chilling and distant, and even insolent in bearing. True Christian love and charity were virtues she did not understand. Probably she did not believe in them; at least she did not practice them. No poor man's blessing ever ascended to heaven on her behalf, for she was never known to bestow a gift willingly upon the needy. So, no doubt, Providence considered that it was necessary she should be taught a severe lesson, that thereby mankind might be led to see that such un-Christian conduct was opposed to the highest rules of life, and could not be practised with benefit and impunity.

One day, to her door, there came an old beggar woman and her children, clearly betokening by their appearances the utmost misery and dest.i.tution. Their clothes were all in rags, only just able to hang together, while here and there, through the great rents, the flesh showed bare and cold. Their faces were pinched, and their frames thin and withered from lack of proper food; and nearly all of them were shoeless. Their feet were red and blistered, cut in places by the sharp stones of the wayside.

"A charity, I pray, good lady, for the love of Christ," said the beggar woman as the lady stood at the door. "Not a bite have we had this day, and we have travelled far. If thou hast children of thine own, take pity upon the starving children of the poor."

But the haughty dame bade her begone.

"Out on thee, thou vulgar drab," said she. "Thou art no honest woman, else had thou hadst a husband to provide for thee."

"My man is dead, lady," protested the beggar, "and I am left a widow."

"More likely thou art a harlot, and the children basely begotten. Away with thee from my door, or I will have the constables after thee, and thou shalt be publicly whipped for a low woman."

Then, losing her temper completely, she called for her serving men.

"Ho, there. Rid me of this pest. Turn out this old sow and her litter, for there is the smell of the stye about them."

At this outrage the poor woman fled. Some say she called down the vengeance of heaven upon the haughty dame, others state that divine justice a.s.serted itself of its own accord. Be that as it may, the wealthy lady was in due course with child, and she brought forth a daughter having a face shaped like an animal with a pig's snout thereon, who in after years married the parson of Mottram. Thus did pride and want of charity bring its own reward.

XVII.

The Devil and the Doctor.

Longdendale has always been noted for the number of its inhabitants devoted to the study of magic arts. Once upon a time, or to give it in the words of an unpublished rhyme (which are quite as indefinite)--

"Long years ago, so runs the tale, A doctor dwelt in Longdendale;"

and then the rhyme goes on to describe the hero of the legend--

"Well versed in mystic lore was he-- A conjuror of high degree; He read the stars that deck the sky, And told their rede of mystery."

Coming down to ordinary prose, it will suffice to say that the doctor referred to was a most devoted student of magic, or, as he preferred to put it--"a keen searcher after knowledge"--a local Dr. Faustus in fact. Having tried every ordinary means of increasing his power over his fellow mortals, he finally decided to seek aid of the powers of darkness, and one day he entered into a compact with no less a personage than His Imperial Majesty, Satan, otherwise known as the Devil. The essentials of this agreement may thus be described.

It was night--the black hour of midnight--and the doctor was alone in his magic chamber. He had long desired power sufficient to enable him to accomplish a certain project, and hitherto all means by which he had tried to secure that power, had been of no avail. Blank failure had attended every effort, and at last he had decided to make use of the most certain, yet withal most desperate, agency known to him. In other words, he would call up the Prince of Darkness, and ask his aid.

The only thing which troubled the doctor was the thought that the price which Satan would demand, might be much greater than he would care to pay. But, after all, that was something he would have to risk.

He set a lamp burning on the table, and into a small cauldron hung above it, he poured certain liquids, which he mixed with certain evil-looking powders and compounds. Some of the items which he added to this unholy brew, appeared to have once been members of the human frame. But that, of course, was known only to the doctor. When the brew began to simmer, the doctor commenced to mumble certain strange incantations, which he continued with unabated vigour for the best part of an hour, without, however, eliciting any manifestations from the dwellers in the spirit world. At length, however, his patience was rewarded, for the light beneath his cauldron suddenly went out, the mixture within boiled over, and the vapour which rose from it, spread over the room until all the objects therein were hidden as though by a thick black cloud. Then, out of the cloud, came a voice, deep and terrible in tone, which caused the very building to rock as though an earthquake had occurred.

"Why hast thou summoned me from the shades, O mortal, and what dost thou require?"

The doctor gasped with awe, he almost felt afraid to address the dreadful spirit, which his own incantations and rites had brought from the underworld. At length he screwed up sufficient courage to proceed, and said:

"I would have the possession of certain powers, O, thou Dread spirit."

"And of what nature are they?" asked the spirit.

Whereupon, the worthy doctor commenced a long explanation, into which we need not enter, setting forth his evil desires, and begging the Devil to aid him.

"Thou shalt have all that thou requirest, and more," said the Devil when the doctor had come to an end of his requests; "that is, providing thou art prepared to pay the price."

"And the price is?" ventured the doctor, trembling.

"The usual one," said the Devil. "I have but one price, which all mortals must pay. On a day which I shall name, thou shalt wait upon me, and deliver up thy soul to me."

"'Tis a stiff price, good Satan," said the doctor in protest.

"'Tis the only price I will listen to," said the Devil.

"Then I must een pay it," said the doctor, seeing that further argument was useless, and, being by this time quite determined to have his desires no matter what the cost. "I agree," he added. And there and then he signed the bond in blood, with a pen made from a dead man's bone.

Satan pocketed the bond.

"Thy desires are granted," said he. "Make the most of thy opportunities. One day I shall surely call upon thee for payment."

Then, with a burst of mocking laughter, he disappeared.

The doctor seems to have enjoyed the results of the compact until the day drew near for the settlement. Then, indeed, he appears to have repented, But he was by no means a dull-witted individual, and in a happy moment he began to cudgel his brain for some way out of the difficulty--some plan of escape. Before long his face brightened, a gleam of hope shone on it, and at length he seemed to see his way clear. He received the formal summons of Satan with a knowing smile, and when the day at last arrived, set out in good time to keep his unholy tryst.

In the language of the rhyme,

"Now rapidly along he sped Unto a region waste and dead, And here at midnight hour did wait His Sable Majesty in state."

The Devil appeared, seated upon a coal black charger, which was of the purest breed of racing nags kept specially for the Derby Day of the Infernal Regions. Satan was very proud of his horse; he was open to lay any odds on its beating anything in the shape of horse flesh that could be found on earth.