The villagers set him astride the piece of wood, and began to lower away; indeed they were in such a hurry to send him down to the presence of the Evil One that I began to fear he would be dropped altogether.
However, he arrived at the bottom in safety; and now was the opportunity for observing, more clearly and closely, how the diabolic idea had seized on the popular mind.
All were in a rampant state of excitement and expectation. The mayor was wondering where he could lock up the infernal prisoner; in fact, doubting whether or not he should send to the nearest town for the assistance of the military.
Two or three suggested that I had made a mistake in not ordering the fire-engines to come, and many more were speculating upon the probability of their envoy having been already devoured by the devil as a return for his temerity.
Presently the rope was shaken, which is the signal to draw up. Very gently and very nervously this operation commences; a good many of the crowd show signs of running away; and the men at the windlass maintain that it turns very heavily. A few peaceable citizens suggest that, after all, perhaps the better way would be not to bring the prisoner up, but to leave him where he is, with a strong guard always on the watch to see that he did not pop up suddenly and set fire to the village; but seeing that this means only letting go the windlass, and the poor fellow that is attached to it, I insist on their proceeding with the winding-up.
In time the man's head appeared coming out of the darkness, and he called out, "I have got him all right."
The peasants then began to think that, after all, his diabolic majesty was not so awful as they supposed—the captive brought to light proving to be no more than an immense specimen of the Horned Owl of the Ural Mountains, whose enormous eyes shone from his ruffled plumage like two balls of fire.
The disappointment was thoroughly real, as, by the time the affair had finished, the news having spread, people were arriving from the neighbouring villages to see the wonderful sight; and as there was no devil after all, the moujiks did not think it advisable to ask me to treat them to vodka all round, which in Russia is a natural adjunct to the occurrence of anything extraordinary in a village.
But perhaps the greatest disappointment was felt by the poor fellow who made the adventurous descent. He, of course, received his three silver roubles, but he lost the "kudos" for his act of daring.
In answer to the question, "Well, Ivan, how did you manage it all?" he replied: