“That light burns with no earthly fuel,” said the Mayor; “neither from whale nor olive oil, nor bees-wax, nor mutton-suet either. I dealt in these commodities, Colonel, before I went into my present line; and I can assure you I could distinguish the sort of light they give, one from another, at a greater distance than yonder turret—Look you, that is no earthly flame.—See you not something blue and reddish upon the edges?— that bodes full well where it comes from.—Colonel, in my opinion we had better go back to sup at the town, and leave the Devil and the red-coats to settle their matters together for to-night; and then when we come back the next morning, we will have a pull with the party that chances to keep a-field.” “You will do as you please, Master Mayor,” said Everard, “but my duty requires me that I should see the Commissioners to-night.” “And mine requires me to see the foul Fiend,” said Master Holdenough, “if he dare make himself visible to me. I wonder not that, knowing who is approaching, he betakes himself to the very citadel, the inner and the last defences of this ancient and haunted mansion. He is dainty, I warrant you, and must dwell where is a relish of luxury and murder about the walls of his chamber. In yonder turret sinned Rosamond, and in yonder turret she suffered; and there she sits, or more likely, the Enemy in her shape, as I have heard true men of Woodstock tell. I wait on you, good Colonel—Master Mayor will do as he pleases. The strong man hath fortified himself in his dwelling-house, but lo, there cometh another stronger than he.” “For me,” said the Mayor, “who am as unlearned as I am unwarlike, I will not engage either—with the Powers of the Earth, or the Prince of the Powers of the Air, and I would we were again at Woodstock;—and hark ye, good fellow,” slapping Wildrake on the shoulder, “I will bestow on thee a shilling wet and a shilling dry if thou wilt go back with me.” “Gadzookers, Master Mayor,” said, Wildrake, neither flattered by the magistrate’s familiarity of address, nor captivated by his munificence— “I wonder who the devil made you and me fellows? and, besides, do you think I would go back to Woodstock with your worshipful cods-head, when, by good management, I may get a peep of fair Rosamond, and see whether she was that choice and incomparable piece of ware, which the world has been told of by rhymers and ballad-makers?” “Speak less lightly and wantonly, friend,” said the divine; “we are to resist the devil that he may flee from us, and not to tamper with him, or enter into his counsels, or traffic with the merchandise of his great Vanity Fair.” “Mind what the good man says, Wildrake,” said the Colonel; “and take heed another time how thou dost suffer thy wit to outrun discretion.”