‘Thou hast said it,’ cried the Doctor, ‘thou hast said it. Good Sir John, of thy charity and for our dear Lord’s sake, Who died on tree, suffer me to bestow myself the morrow night in the church of the blessed Saint Osbert.’ The Parson rose to his feet and put his hands on his plump hips. ‘’Tis done,’ he said. ‘’Tis done. In that sanctified and holy place will I bestow thee safe from the filthy claws of Satan, until the time of peril be passed, and I have exorcised the fiend from thy precious soul.’ The Doctor prostrated himself at the Parson’s feet and wept his gratitude. ‘A thousand, thousand thanks, holy Father. And the better to make certain, do thou also give unto me the key of the Church, that I may lock fast the great door against the Devil and his angels.’ ‘Thou shalt have it, my son, and in the morning shall Master Bailiff and I come to greet thee and sing _Jubilate_ with thee.’ ‘’Tis a goodly device and a holy,’ said the Bailiff, ‘but I would that there were some substitution in the contract, that thou hadst been able to sub-enfief, to sub-let thy part in the deed to some persona or body corporate, which hath neither a body to be smitten nor a soul to be damned. Would that there were some substitution of the liability set forth in the deed!’ The Doctor sat on the hearth, nursed his knees, and pondered. ‘Thou art also, good Master Bailiff,’ he said at last, ‘a vir doctissimus, a man truly sagacious and learned in all points of the law. Verily thou art right, and I do begin to see clearly how we shall outwit this cunning and cruel fiend.’ ‘Yes, verily, I am right,’ said the Bailiff eagerly. ‘Lo, then,’ said the Doctor, ‘I will substitute an image, a simulacrum for the corporal body mentioned in the deed. To-morrow my man Martin and I shall cunningly fashion a man of straw, and dress him in seemly wise in my clothes, and when it is dark Martin shall carry him hither and lay him in yonder corner with his face to the wall.’ ‘Excellent, excellent,’ cried Sir John. ‘But why bring him here?’ ‘The more to puzzle the fiend,’ said the Doctor. ‘And the further to perplex him I will leave word with mine hostess that I am gone to see Sir John.’ ‘Yea, and the Devil shall carry away the man of straw in thy stead?’ said the Bailiff. ‘An he do, methinks he is a great fool after all.’ ‘Nay, he is cunning enough,’ said the Doctor, ‘but hasty, terribly hasty, and I warrant he shall never find his mistake till he be inside Hell-gates with his load of straw.’ “’Tis a good jest and will work,’ cried the Parson, ‘or call me no scholar.’