for several days; but he did not remain without his _revanche_. He happened to hear that the Marshal had ridden incognito into Paris, one Easter Sunday, being desirous of passing the festival quietly in his own house, and to avoid being summoned to court. A few minutes after Brusquet had learned the fact, he repaired to a neighbouring convent of Franciscans, where he required two of the holy brotherhood to follow him for a particular purpose. “The fact is,” said the jester, “I come from the family of a nobleman in the Faubourg St. Germain. He is possessed by an evil spirit; will hear nothing of God; fears as little touching the devil; scorns to celebrate the religious festival of Easter, and holds the entire brotherhood of priestly men in utter detestation.” Brusquet then crossed the palm of each brother with a crown-piece, which so inspired the two Franciscans, that they declared if the patient were possessed by a legion of devils, they would undertake to drive them all out of him. Therewith the three departed for Strozzi’s house, where their appearance excited some surprise in the Marshal’s personal attendant. The latter, however, gave way when Brusquet, after taking him aside, had informed him that his master had particularly important business to transact with the two spiritual gentlemen, and that they might enter the Marshal’s chamber without being announced. The servant bowed and withdrew; Brusquet showed the Franciscans into Strozzi’s bedroom, the door of which he immediately closed upon them, and remained standing on watch outside. The monks found the Marshal lying on his bed reading. To his stare of surprise they meekly replied by inquiring how he found himself in soul and body. “So well, both in strength and spirit,” said Strozzi, “that if you do not immediately decamp, I will fling the couple of you out of window.” They concluded that he was very powerfully “possessed” indeed; and straightway with loud prayer, and some inharmonious singing, they proceeded to sprinkle him from head to foot with holy water. He really hissed with rage, as if he had been red-hot. Then, leaping from his bed, he grasped at his dagger, and flew at the monks. A fearful struggle ensued, and howling, and stamping, and showers of oaths on one side, and holy water on the other. When the uproar brought the servants of the Marshal to his assistance, they found him speechless with rage, and in the sudden temporary lull, Brusquet beckoned them from the room, and locked the door upon Strozzi and his attendants. He then paid and dismissed the Franciscans, and, fresh from this new exploit, he ran to the palace, and kept the whole royal and august personages there assembled, in a roar of laughter at the highly seasoned details which he exultingly recounted,--from the Marshal’s ride into Paris, to the final exorcism made to relieve him from Satanic possession.