"Duffy," said he, "I have had as great a lark as I have ever had in my life. I hunted all day over all the moors and downs, Trove, Trevider, Lemorna and Brene, and didn't catch a thing. The mare was tired out and so was I, when up jumped as fine a hare as I had ever seen, from a hedge along the road-side. She was away and so were the dogs instantly, and I followed. What a chase! This way and that way she doubled, and at length entered the mouth of Fugoe's dark cave."
In went the dogs and in follow'd I, water dripping,
Mud flying, dogs yelping in full cry,
Owls wheeling, bats flapping, the place was nigh sick'ning
And black as the night, but the pace was now quickening,
When a singular sight caught my eye.
We had gone nigh a mile when the dogs turn'd to flight,
For Alack! On the farthermost shore
Of a lake was a light of a fire. What a sight!
There was old Nick a-dancing with all his might
With witches; there was more than a score.
"And there was old Bet of the mill a-thumping and a-beating her crowd, giving music for the dance, and, as I live, by her side was my best jack of beer, and each time old Nick would come around he would take a drink. The old witches sang as they danced,"
"Here's to the devil,
With wooden pick and shovel,
Digging tin by the bushel
With his tail cocked up."
The wild dance and frolic grew fast and furious,
Brighter blaz'd the fire-flames, blue and hot,
Then Nick in full chorus, with witches, uproarious,
Shouted and sang like the spirit of Boreas,
"My name is Terrytop, Terrytop."
"Aye, and he kept shouting it as if he had lost his head with the drinking of too much of my beer. Then he jumped among the old witches, and such a sight!"
He kicked the old witches and Bet the old dame,
'Till I laughed out aloud at the lark,
Then he whirl'd and he came, in a reel, through the flame,
"Go it, old Nick," said I, "you are worthy your name,"
And then—in a moment—'twas dark.
And away galloped I, with the mare at full speed;
With a din, the whole crowd followed fast;
With old Nick in the lead, over moor and o'er mead,
But I distanc'd them soon, for the mare knew my need,
And now here I am, Duffy, at last.
"Why doesn't 'ee laugh, Duffy?" said the squire. Duffy, who had turned pale at the mentioning of the little man's name, now regained her good spirits and laughed merrily and long, for she knew she was safe. The squire stretched out his limbs in weariness, for he had hunted far and wide and felt the need of sleep, so he soon retired. But not so Duffy, for she knew that in an hour or so the little man in black would come to claim his prize. First she said the Creed, and then she prayed, for she had resolved to become an exemplary woman could she escape the consequences of the rash vow she had made a year before. Then in the midst of her devotions there was heard the wild neighing of a horse without, and then the door, though shut with bolt and bar, opened, and in stepped the little man in black, bowing low, and yet with a cunning leer in his eyes.