"That's true, John Trounsen," remarked the third. "My wife is a good woman, let who will say otherwise; but for all that there's a woman in all devilry. The devil could not do his work without witches, and I doubt not he was obliged to have many witches with him at Pycroft. All that's been done there these last few years could not have been done without them."
"But what did he look like?" I asked eagerly, for as may be imagined other thoughts had come into my mind than those spoken by the simple farmers.
"Look like?" said the farmer who told the story. "Well that again seems strange. And yet I do not know. The parson says the devil can appear as an angel of light, so I do not see why he cannot appear as an old man."
"Ay, an old man. This was how it happened, young master. I was passing by the Pycroft woods on Friday evening, when I heard the noise like thunder. It fairly seemed to shake the very ground. I looked around me, but I could see nothing. Then I heard something like a cackle, and on gazing around me I saw him standing a little distance from me with a woman by his side. Mind you, nothing was to be seen afore the great noise, then all of a sudden he appeared."
"Ay, that must have been the devil," remarked the man called Trounsen.
"All of a sudden, all of a sudden, just like he always comes! What did the parson say on Sunday? 'He cometh like a thief in the night,'" remarked the other.
"Did any smoke come out of his nostrils?" asked Trounsen.
"No, he was just a simple old man with a short neck and long whiskers. Ay, but you should have seen his eyes. Fire seemed to come from them."
"Did he say aught?"