“It is true, my father,” said Geraldine, in a low yet clear voice. “What else could I do since I love him? Moreover, he is not a foul knight, but is brave and true.”
Now the Baron swore again.
“You witch,” he cried, “know this, rather than you should wed de Mossland—yea, by all the saints I swear it!—I will send you to the devil.”
“Oh, my father!” shrieked Geraldine, “have mercy!”
And her shrieks rang through the castle, till the serving maids and the men-at-arms came running in to see what was the matter.
But the Baron took up his sword, and with the flat of it struck right and left, and drove them forth. Then, turning once more to her, he shouted:
“Mark well what I say. If you speak to de Mossland again I will summon the devil’s aid, and you shall be sorely punished.”
Then he left the room, and the lady fainted.
Now, the Lady Geraldine was bold enough, as became a daughter born of a race of fighting men, and, having pledged her word to her lover, she had no intention of going from it. So, on the day appointed, she proceeded to a certain spot, where her lover met her, all prepared for flight. The lovers kissed, and then the knight began:
“Dear Geraldine,” said he.—But before he could proceed further, an awful thing happened. A dark form rose up between them, and, on looking at it they knew it was the Devil. He was in his own shape, with horns, hoofs, and tail complete. With a mocking laugh he bent his elbow, and made as though to seize the maid, but Sir Mottram, throwing his arms about her, turned and fled, hoping to be able to cross a running stream before the devil could touch them, and then, by the laws of sorcery, they would be free from satanic molestation.