So Twardowski determined to enter the gates of hell. At his magic speech the ground opened and he began the path of descent. Blue flames lighted the way. Deeper and deeper he went through dark and winding passages. At last he reached the underworld itself, and many awful sights did he behold.
And the farther he went the more frightened did he become. He could not help feeling that the devil had plotted something against him. Finally he found himself in a small room, and cast a hasty glance around, looking for a means of escape.
Seeing a child in a cradle in one corner of the room he seized it hastily, threw his cloak around it, and was about to leave when the door opened and the Evil One entered.
He made a respectful bow and said, “Will you be good enough to go with me now?”
“Why so?” asked Twardowski, obstinately.
“Because of our agreement.”
“But,” said the magician, “only in Rome have you power over me.”
“Yes,” replied the devil, “and Rome is the name of this house.”
“You think to trick me by a pun; but you cannot. I carry this talisman of innocence,” and throwing aside his cloak, he disclosed the sleeping child.
Anger showed in the face of the devil; but he stepped nearer to Twardowski and said softly: