King Death, hereupon, stood for some time with his visage green and pale, in great perplexity of mind. But whilst he was meditating, behold _Fate_, turned upon him such an iron-black scowl, as made him tremble. "Sirrah," said he, "look to what you do. It is not in my power to send any one back, through the boundary of eternity, the irrepassable wall, nor in yours to harbour them here; therefore forward them to their destruction, in spite of the Arch Fiend. He has been able hitherto, in a minute to allot his proper place to every individual, in a drove of a thousand, nay, even of ten thousand captured souls; and what difficulty can he have with seven, however dangerous they may be. But though these seven should turn the infernal government topsy-turvy, do you drive them thither instantly, for fear I should receive commands to annihilate you before your time. As for _his_ threats, they are only lies; for although thy end, and that of the old man yonder, (looking at Time,) are nigh at hand, being written only a few pages further on, in my unerring volume, yet you have no cause to be afraid of sinking to Lucifer; though every one in the abyss would be glad to obtain thee, yet they never, never shall. For the rocks of steel and eternal adamant, which form the roof of Hell, are too strong for anything to crumble them." Whereupon, Death, considerably startled, called to one of his train, to write for him the following answer. "_Death_, _the king of Terror and Conqueror of conquerors_, _to his revered friend and neighbour Lucifer_, _king of Eternal Night_, _sovereign of the Bottomless Pool_, _sends greeting_. "After due reflection on your regal desire, it has appeared to us more advantageous, not only to our own dominion, but likewise to your own extensive kingdom, to send these prisoners, as far as possible from the doors of the irrepassable wall, lest their putrid odour should terrify the whole city of Destruction, so that no man should come to all eternity, to my side of the gate; and neither I obtain any thing to cool my sting, nor you a concourse of customers from earth to hell. Therefore I will leave to you to judge them, and to hurl them into such cells, as you may deem the most proper and secure for them. "_From my nether palace in the great gate of Perdition_, _over Destruction_. _In the year_, _from the renewal of my kingdom_, 1670." At hearing all this, I felt a great curiosity to know who these seven people could be, whom the devils themselves held in so much dread. But ere a minute had elapsed, the clerk of the crown called their names, as follows:--Master Meddler, alias _Finger in Every Dish_; but he was so vehement and busy in advising the others, that he could not get a moment's time to answer for himself, until Death threatened to transfix him with his dart.