Country life -- Fiction; France -- Fiction; Love stories
I don't know how long I was tortured with this vision, which made me
forget to watch Joseph, and scared me lest I was going mad in trying
to do more than it was in me to perform. I recollected that I had
seen in the hall of the castle an old picture which they said was the
portrait of a wicked warrior whom a lord of the castle in the olden
time, who was the warrior's brother, had flung into the dungeon. The
garments of leather and iron which I saw before me on that skeleton
figure, were certainly like those in the picture, and the notion came
into my head that here was a ghost in pain, watching the desecration
of his sepulchre, and waiting to show his displeasure in some way or
other.
What made this idea the more probable was that the ghost said nothing
to me, and evidently took no notice of my presence,--apparently aware
that I had no evil intentions against his poor carcass.
At last a noise different from all others attracted my eyes away from
him. I looked back into the cave below me, where stood Joseph, and
something near him very ugly and very strange.
Joseph stood boldly in front of an abominable creature, dressed in
the skin of a dog, with horns sticking out of his tangled hair, and a
red face, and claws and tail; the which beast was jumping about and
making faces like one possessed of the devil. It was vile to see,
and yet I wasn't the dupe of it very long, for though the creature
tried to disguise his voice I thought I recognized that of
Doré-Fratin, the bagpiper of Pouligny, one of the strongest and most
quarrelsome men in our neighborhood.
"You may sneer as you please," he was saying to Joseph, "at me and at
hell, but I am the king of all musicians, and you shall not play your
instrument without my permission unless you sell me your soul."
Joseph answered, "What can such a fool of a devil as you do with the
soul of a musician? You have no use for it."
"Mind what you say," returned the other. "Don't you know that down
here you must either give yourself to the devil or prove that you are
stronger than he?"
"Yes, yes, I know the proverb," said Joseph: "'Kill the devil or the
devil will kill you.'"
As he spoke, I saw Huriel and his father come from a dark opening
into the vault and go up to the devil as if to speak to him; but they
were pulled back by the other bagpipers who now showed themselves,
and Carnat the elder addressed Joseph.
"You have proved," he said, "that you don't fear witchcraft, and we
will let you go free if you will now conform to the usual custom,
which is to fight the devil, in proof that you, a Christian man,
refuse to submit to him."
"If the devil wants to be well thrashed," replied Joseph, "let me go
at him at once, and we'll see if his skin is any tougher than mine.
What weapons?"
"None but your fists," replied Carnat.
"It is fair play, I hope," said the Head-Woodsman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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