Over the whole body of Herr Mahok crept a ghostly shiver.
"Do you hear it?" he asked the sacristan, in a whisper.
"Hear it? Who could help hearing it? Mass is saying somewhere."
"Here, under us, in the vault."
"Who can it be?"
"The devil! All good spirits praise the Lord," stammered the worthy pastor, making the sign of the cross three times.
"But it seems that the evil spirits praise the Lord as well as the good ones," returned the clerk.
This assertion of his was, however, quickly contradicted, for in the middle of the next psalm a diabolical chorus struck in wildly, and the air resounded with—
"Come, dearest, come to me,
Come, I am at home;
Two gypsies play for me.
And here I dance alone."
Then followed shrieks of laughter, in which women's shrill cackle mingled with the hoarse roar of men and the wildest discord, as if hell itself were let loose.