“Ah!” Jeremiah began, “he is fond of trees. How he coiled himself, as Dr. Mauncel observed, in the tree of knowledge of good and evil, pointing to the apples, and smacking his own lips! But let him stay there at present, and hatch a blackbird’s nest, if he be so inclined. Gideon, you are now safe.”
Scarcely had he finished these words, when a fiery cloud was seen coming from the direction of the sand hills, and soon Satan stood before his heap of sand, with a large trowel in his hand, ready to build the wall. But first he looked around, and descrying the altered station of the party, walked up to the circle, while his mouth belched forth fire and smoke.
“Think not,” he exclaimed in a horrible tone, “think not that you shall escape, although, by your wiles, I have been detained; and heavier shall be your punishment, for the trouble you have given me.”
“Do you sweat much?” kindly inquired William Mauncel; “then stand a little to cool yourself. You have time enough to finish the wall. Why have you returned so soon? Pray, let us have a friendly chat.”
“Gideon Chiselwig,” continued the fiend, without noticing the words by which he had been interrupted, “I tell thee that thy doom shall be much more severe. Rejoice at my momentary disappointment, as I detail it to you, and then think how much more I shall rejoice over the torments which it shall cause you, as my subject, for ever. I placed the first load of sand in your brother’s apron, and flew away with it—(Gideon, you shall have wings too, in a little,)—but when passing the moss, the cursed string broke,—”
“Honesty is the best policy, friend,” cooly remarked Jeremiah. “You are well served for a rogue. You stole away my apron, and you have received a just recompense. Learn, Nick, to be more honest for the future, at least on earth. You may escape the clutch of a magistrate, as you and his worship seem to be on very intimate terms, but believe me, that sooner or later, vice will be punished. You know the proverb, I presume, ‘that those who begin with a pin, may end with an ox,’ and I cannot exactly say, but that this apron stealing might have brought you into very serious danger. Let it be an example, Nicholas.”
“Rejoice at present,” was the reply. “Mock me, Gideon, as well as your brother does, and listen. The strings of the apron broke,—”
“Bad thread, bad thread, Gideon,” again interrupted Jeremiah, “I told you so when it came. It must not be used for the collar of a coat.”
“The strings of the apron broke,” patiently resumed the enemy, “and all the sand fell into the moss, and there it lies, a large heap and mountain. But, Gideon, beneath as heavy a mountain of my wrath you shall lie, for ever and ever:” and he instantly departed to commence his work.
Soon the wall arose a foot or two from the ground, and Gideon’s fears once more attacked him. A loud laugh was raised, at intervals, by the infernal builder, and it seemed echoed by millions and millions of the lost spirits. He skipped upon the wall, and, revealing his awful proportions, gazed upon Gideon, with eyes of such fiendish malice and revenge, that even the reckless Mauncel shuddered, and covered his face to banish the sight. And now the wall was nearly finished, the earth was shaking all around, the hissing of serpents was heard, and strange forms were seen moving beside the enemy.