“I could not,” was the affecting reply, “though such conduct were to save your life. Oh! I feel ashamed of myself. You must, if you wish me to be happy hereafter, give me as many scratches, kicks, and angry words, as I have ever given you. Promise me, Gideon.”
Gideon did promise, and as the first-fruits of the vow, kissed her. They retired not to rest, for, as the husband piteously remarked—
“Dear wife, I cannot, and I should not sleep. I must gaze upon you as long as I am permitted. I must speak with you as long as my language is of earth. I must embrace you as long as I am not called upon to embrace clods, dust, and worms. Ha!” he cried in a frantic voice, “not that! not that! I am denied burial, and must go, body and soul, to the dark pit! I shall be mangled, and Jeremiah will not be allowed to sew me together, into a decent corpse. Oh! oh!”
At length, punctual to his appointment, the vicar came, attended by his nephew. What was the astonishment of the worthy man, when he learned that Gideon had fulfilled verbatim his wife’s dream, and actually sold himself, for better, for worse, to the devil! He gravely shook his head, and the motion was also communicated to his paunch, as he remarked—
“I am afraid that the present is a case far beyond my poor skill. I once, indeed, had the honour of casting out a devil, but he was a blue devil, and I put his victim into a room by himself, for a month, and removed a large bottle, after which the man was never tormented with him again. But this—”
“And you a doctor of the church,” interrupted Jeremiah—“humph!—with a black coat, professing that you are able and inclined to fight the devil in his own colours. Now, if you could fight a blue devil, in a black coat, would you not have a greater chance of success in fighting a black devil? Had I as many prayers, homilies, and sermons, Dr. Mauncel, I would instantly take and pull him by the nose, very much to the lengthening of his proboscis. Oh! doctor, accompany us to the place of the awful meeting, and I will carry the Book as your weapon!”
“Yes, yes,” added Mrs. Chiselwig with great earnestness and simplicity, “and I will carry—what was the name, sir?—Yes, Rehoboam. I’ll carry Rehoboam for you.”
“He is a dear child, and I could scarcely trust him out of my own hands.”
But we cannot detail the conversation, many episodes of which were long prayers, and spiritual maxims, calculated to do anything or everything, save to overturn and reverse the horrid destiny of Gideon—the doomed of Satan. None gave consolation, until the parson’s nephew suggested that it was quite possible, indeed extremely probable, that the devil would find the building of the wall a task, by no means easy; and that, for his part, he would be most willing to take his uncle’s post, and accompany poor Gideon to the place of rendezvous, and see the wall to be, in mason’s terms, sufficient and proper, before the Devil could claim a hair of the tailor’s head. Still, this was not altogether satisfactory, for the first condition, and that which appeared the most difficult, had been strictly fulfilled.