“A liege subject of my lord the Devil: he never opens his mouth, except to utter an oath, or to swallow a cup of wine.”
“And yet, if but one of these would but say an ave for me, I should be saved.”
“Aves with them are rarae aves,” replied Mercurius, wagging his tail right waggishly; “and, what is more, I will lay thee any wager that not one of these will say a prayer to save thee.”
“I would wager willingly,” responded he of Chauchigny; “but what has a poor soul like me to stake?”
“Every evening, after the day’s roasting, my lord Satan giveth a cup of cold water to his servants; I will bet thee thy water for a year, that none of the three will pray for thee.”
“Done!” said Rollo.
“Done!” said the daemon; “and here, if I mistake not, is thy castle of Chauchigny.”
Indeed, it was true. The soul, on looking down, perceived the tall towers, the courts, the stables, and the fair gardens of the castle. Although it was past midnight, there was a blaze of light in the banqueting-hall, and a lamp burning in the open window of the Lady Matilda.
“With whom shall we begin?” said the daemon: “with the baron or the lady?”
“With the lady, if you will.”