“Is the Lady Adeliza’s loveliness in sooth so transcendent?” he inquired. “She is a rose, a lily, a diamond, a morning star!” “If that is the case,” rejoined Lucifer, “thou mayest reassure thyself. The Lady Adeliza shall not want for consolation. I will assume thy shape and woo her in thy stead.” The young man hardly seemed to receive all the comfort from this promise which Lucifer no doubt designed. He made a desperate move. In an instant the Devil checkmated him, and he disappeared. * * * * * “Upon my word, if I had known what a business this was going to be, I don’t think I should have gone in for it,” soliloquized the Devil as, wearing his captive’s semblance and installed in his apartments, he surveyed the effects to which he now had to administer. They included coats, shirts, collars, neckties, foils, cigars, and the like _ad libitum_; and very little else except three challenges, ten writs, and seventy-four unpaid bills, elegantly disposed around the looking-glass. To the poor youth’s praise be it said, there were no _billets-doux_, except from the Lady Adeliza herself. Noting the address of these carefully, the Devil sallied forth, and nothing but his ignorance of the topography of the hotel, which made him take the back stairs, saved him from the clutches of two bailiffs lurking on the principal staircase. Leaping into a cab, he thus escaped a perfumer and a bootmaker, and shortly found himself at the Lady Adeliza’s feet. The truth had not been half told him. Such beauty, such wit, such correctness of principle! Lucifer went forth from her presence a love-sick fiend. Not Merlin’s mother had produced half the impression upon him; and Adeliza on her part had never found her lover one-hundredth part so interesting as he seemed that morning. Lucifer proceeded at once to the City, where, assuming his proper shape for the occasion, he negotiated a loan without the smallest difficulty. All debts were promptly discharged, and Adeliza was astonished at the splendour and variety of the presents she was constantly receiving. Lucifer had all but brought her to name the day, when he was informed that a gentleman of clerical appearance desired to wait upon him. “Wants money for a new church or mission, I suppose,” said he. “Show him up.” But when the visitor was ushered in, Lucifer found with discomposure that he was no earthly clergyman, but a celestial saint; a saint, too, with whom Lucifer had never been able to get on. He had served in the army while on earth, and his address was curt, precise, and peremptory. “I have called,” he said, “to notify to you my appointment as Inspector of Devils.” “What!” exclaimed Lucifer, in consternation. “To the post of my old friend Michael!” “Too old,” said the Saint laconically. “Millions of years older than the world. About your age, I think.” Lucifer winced, remembering the particular business he was then about. The Saint continued: