The end of the second four hundred years came too, and then Mrs. Death appeared again. ‘Remember your promise,’ she said, ‘and don’t try any trick on me this time.’
‘Oh, yes! I always keep my word,’ said the host, and without more ado he went along with her.
As she was carrying him up to Paradise, they passed the way which led down to Hell, and at the opening sat the Devil, receiving souls which his ministers brought to him from all parts. He was marshalling them into ranks, and ticketing them ready to send off in batches to the distinct place for each.
‘You seem to have got plenty of souls there, Mr. Devil,’ said the host. ‘Suppose we sit down and play for them?’
‘I’ve no objection,’ said the Devil. ‘Your soul against one of these. If I win, you go with them; if you win, one of them goes with you.’
‘That’s it,’ said the host, and picking out a nice-looking soul, he set him for the Devil’s stake.
Of course the host won, and the nice-looking soul was passed round to his side of the table.
‘Shall we have another game?’ said the host, quite cock-a-hoop.
The Devil hesitated for a moment, but finally he yielded. The host picked out a soul that took his fancy, for the Devil’s stake, and they sat down to play again, with the same result.
So they went on and on till the host had won fifteen thousand souls of the Devil. ‘Come,’ said Death when they had got as far as this, ‘I really can’t wait any longer. I never had to do with anyone who took up so much time as you. Come along!’