Luxehale's Wives

The Devil goes wandering over the earth in many disguises, and that

not only to hunt souls; sometimes it is to choose for himself a wife,

but when he goes on these expeditions he calls himself "Luxehale."

There was once a very beautiful princess, very proud of her beauty, who

had vowed she would never marry any but the handsomest prince. Numbers

of princes, who heard the fame of her beauty, came to ask her hand,

but directly she saw them she declared they were not handsome enough

for her, and drove them out of the city. Her parents were in despair,

for there was scarcely any young prince left in the world whom she

had not thus rejected.

One day the trumpeters sounded the call by which they were wont to

announce the arrival of a visitor.

The princess sat with her mother in an arbour.

"Ah!" said the queen, "there is another come to ask your hand. How

I wish he may be the really handsome one you desire, this time!"

"It is all useless, mother; I don't mean to see any more of them--they

are all uglier, one than the other."

The queen was about to answer by instancing several noted paragons of

manly beauty whom she had rejected like the rest, but the chamberlain

came in with great importance just at that moment, to say that the

prince who had just arrived appeared to be a very great prince indeed,

and that he was in a great hurry, and demanded to see the princess

instantly.

The princess was very indignant at this abrupt proposal, and refused

absolutely to see him; but at last the queen got her to consent to

place herself in a hollow pillar in the great reception-hall, and

through a little peephole, contrived in the decorations, take a view

of him without his knowing that she did so.

When the princess thus saw the stranger, she was dazzled with

the perfection of his form and the surpassing beauty of his

countenance, and she could hardly restrain herself from darting

from her hiding-place and offering him her hand at once; in order

to preserve herself from committing such a mistake, she immediately

let herself down through a little trap-door into the room below,

where it had been agreed that her mother should meet her.

"Well, what did you think of him?" said the queen, who did not keep

her long waiting.

"Oh! I think he might do," said the princess, with an assumed air

of indifference, for she was too proud to acknowledge how much she

admired him.

The queen was overjoyed that at length she consented to marry, and so

put an end to the anxiety she was in to see her established before she

died. That she might not take it into her head to go back from what she

had said, her parents hastened on the wedding preparations, and the

prince seemed very anxious, too, that no delay should occur. As soon

as the festivities were over, he handed his bride into a magnificent

gold coach, and drove off with her, followed by a retinue which showed

he was a very great prince indeed.

Away they rode many days' journey, till at last they reached a palace

of greater magnificence than any thing the princess had ever conceived,

filled with crowds of servants, who fulfilled her least wish almost

before it was uttered, and where every pleasure and every gratification

was provided for her in abundance.

The prince took great pleasure in conducting her frequently over every

part of the palace, and it was so vast that, after she had been over

it many times, there was still much which seemed strange to her;

but what was strangest of all was, there was one high door, all of

adamant, which the prince never opened, and the only cross word he

had spoken to her was once when she had asked him whither it led.

After some time it happened that the prince had to go on a considerable

journey, and before he left he confided to his wife the keys of all

the apartments in the palace, but she observed the key of the adamant

door was not among them, and ventured to ask why it was not.

"Because no one passes through that door but myself; and I advise

you not to think any thing more about that door, or you may be sure

you will repent it," and he spoke very sternly and positively.

This only whetted her curiosity still more; and she was no sooner

sure he was at a safe distance, than she determined to go down and see

if some of the keys would not open this door. The first she tried in

it showed there was no need of any, for it was unlocked, and pushed

open at her touch. It gave entrance to a long underground passage,

which received a strange lurid light from the opening at the far end.

The princess pursued the ominous corridor with beating heart; and,

when she reached the other end, made the frightful discovery that it

was--the entrance to hell!

Without losing a moment, she rushed up-stairs, regained her own

apartment, and sat down to contrive her escape, for she now perceived

that it was the Devil, disguised as a beautiful prince, that she

had married!

As she sat, pursued by a thousand agonizing thoughts, the gentle

cooing of two pigeons in a cage soothed her, and reminded her of home.

Her father's fondness had suggested that she should take the birds

with her that she might have the means of communicating to him how

it fared with her in her married home. Quickly she now wrote a note

to tell him of the discovery she had made, and begging him to deliver

her. She tied the note to one of the pigeons, and let them fly.

The Devil came back in the same disguise, and was profuse in his

caresses; and he never thought of her having opened the door. But all

the princess's affection and admiration for him were gone, and it was

with the greatest difficulty she contrived to keep up an appearance

of the fondness she had formerly so warmly and so sincerely lavished.

Meantime the pigeons went on their way, and brought the note home. The

king and queen were having dinner on the terrace, and with them

sat a young stranger, named Berthold, conversing with them, but too

sad to taste the food before him. He was one of those the princess

had rejected without seeing, but as he had seen her, he was deeply

distressed at the present separation. The pigeons flew tamely in

narrowing circles round the king's head, and, at last, the one which

carried the note came fluttering on to the table before him. He would

have driven them away, the rather, that they were all distressed and

bleeding, and with scarcely a feather left, but the young stranger's

eye discovered the note, which was quickly opened and read.

"Oh, help me! What can I do?" exclaimed the king; "give me some

counsel. How can I ever reach the Devil's palace--and how could I

fight him, if even I did get there?"

"May I be permitted to undertake the deliverance?" asked the stranger.

"Oh, in heaven's name, yes!" cried the king.

"And shall I have your permission to pay my addresses to her when I

bring her back?"

"Why, she will be yours--yours of right, if you succeed in rescuing

her; altogether yours!"

"That must depend on herself. Nevertheless, if I have your consent

to ask her in marriage, that is all I desire."

"Go, and succeed!" devoutly exclaimed the king. "And whatever you

stand in need of, be it men or money, or arms, you have but to command,

and every thing shall be given you that you require."

But the prince, who knew not what sort of enemy he had to encounter,

or which way he had to go, knew not what assistance to ask for,

but set out, trusting in God and his own good sense to guide him.

As he passed out of the castle enclosure his eyes were rejoiced to see

lying on the ground some of the white feathers of the carrier-pigeons,

and then he perceived that, not having been duly matched, they had

fought all the way, and that the whole track was marked with their

feathers. But as they, of course, had come by the directest course,

it led him over steep precipices and wild, unfrequented places;

still Berthold pursued his way through all difficulties without losing

courage, and ever as he went pondering in his own mind with what arts

he should meet the Devil.

He was passing through a desolate stony place, which seemed far from

any habitations of men, when he saw a man crouching by the wayside,

with his ear close against the rock.

"What are you doing there?" said Berthold.

"I am listening to what is going on in the Devil's house," answered the

man, "for my sense of hearing is so fine, it carries as far as that."

"Then come with me," said Berthold; "I will find work for you which

shall be well repaid."

So the man left off listening, and walked on behind him.

A little farther on, he observed a man sitting on a ledge of the

precipice, with his back to the road, and with all the world before

him; and he gazed out into the far distance.

"What are you staring at?" said Berthold.

"I am gazing into the Devil's house," said the man, "for my sight is

so sharp, it carries as far as that."

"Then come along with me; I will give your eyes work that shall be

well paid." said Berthold.

So the man left off gazing, and turned and walked behind him.

"But stop!" said the prince; "let me have some little proof that you

are as clever as you say. If you can see and hear into the Devil's

house, let me know what the Devil's wife is doing."

Then the first man crouched down with his ear against the rock;

and the second man sat himself astride on a jutting projection of

the precipice, and gazed abroad over the open space--Berthold taking

care that they should be far enough apart not to communicate with

each other.

"What do you see?" he said, when the second man had poised himself

to his own satisfaction.

"I see a vast apartment, all of shining crystal, and the Devil lying

fast asleep on a ledge of the flaming spar, while the Devil's wife

sits with averted face, and weeps."

"And what do you hear?" he said, returning to the first man.

"I hear the Devil snore like the roaring of a wild beast, and I hear

great sighs of a soft woman's voice; and every now and then she says,

'Why was I so foolish and haughty, as to send away all those noble

princes whom I might have learnt to love? and above all, Berthold, whom

I would not see, and who my mother said was better than them all; and I

would not see him! If I could but see him now, how I would love him!'"

When Berthold heard that, he could not rest a minute longer, but told

them he was satisfied; and hurried on so fast that they could scarce

keep up with him.

On they went thus; and presently they saw a man amusing himself with

lifting great boulders of rock, which he did so deftly that no one

could hear him move them.

"You have a rare talent," said Berthold; "come along with me, and I

will pay your service well."

So the man put down a great mass of rock he had in his arms, and

walked on behind the prince.

Presently there were no more pigeons' feathers to be seen, and Berthold

wrung his hands in despair at losing the track.

"See!" said the man with the sharp sight, "there they lie, all down

this steep, and along yonder valley, and over that high mountain! it

will take three months to traverse that valley."

"But it is impossible to follow along there at all!" cried all the

men. But Berthold said they must find their way somehow.

While they were looking about to find a path to descend by, they

saw a great eagle soaring round and round, flapping her wings, and

uttering plaintive cries.

"I'll tell you what's the matter," said the man with the sharp hearing:

"one of her eggs has fallen down this ledge, and it is too narrow

for her to get it out; I can hear the heart of the eaglet beating

through the shell."

"Eagle," said the prince, "if I take out your egg, and give it to you,

will you do something for me?"

"Oh, yes, any thing!" said the eagle.

"Well, that is a hot, sunny ledge," said the prince; "your egg won't

hurt there till we come back--I have seen in my travels some birds

which hatch their eggs entirely in the hot sand. Now you take us

all on your back, and fly with us along the track wherever you see

the pigeons' feathers, and wait a few minutes while we complete our

business there, and then bring us back; and then I'll take your egg

out of the fissure for you."

"That's not much to do!" said the eagle; "jump up, all of you."

So they all got on the eagle's back, the prince taking care so to

arrange his men that the great neck and outstretched wings of the eagle

should hide them from the Devil's sight, should he have happened to

be outside his house.

It took the eagle only two or three hours to reach the journey's end,

and by this time it was night.

"And now it is dark," said Berthold, to the sharp-visioned man, as

they alighted from the eagle's back, "you cannot help us any more

with your sight."

"Oh, yes; the crystals of the Devil's apartment always glitter with

the same red glare by night or day. I see the Devil rolled up in bed

fast asleep, and his wife sits on a chair by his side, and weeps."

"And what do you hear?" he said, addressing the first attendant.

"I hear snoring and weeping, as before," said the man addressed.

"Now you, who are so clever at lifting weights without being heard,"

said the prince, "lift the great door off its hinges."

"That's done," replied the man, a minute later, for he had done it

so quietly Berthold was not aware he had moved from the spot.

"Since you have done this so well, I'm sure you'll do the next

job. You have now to go up into the Devil's room, and bring the lady

down without the least noise; if you show her this token, she will

recognize it for her father's device, and will come with you."

The sharp-visioned man told him how he would have to go, for he could

see all the inside of the house, lighted up as it was with the glaring

crystals. But just as he was about to start,--

"Stop!" cried the man with the sharp ears; "I hear the Devil turn

in his bed; our talking must have disturbed him." So they all stood

stock still in great fear.

"He seems to be getting up," whispered the man with the sharp

sight. "No; now he has turned round and rolled himself up once more."

"And now he is snoring again," continued the other.

"Then we may proceed," replied the prince; and the third attendant

went his way so softly that no one heard him go.

"Get up on the eagle's back," said Berthold to the other two, "that

we may be ready to start immediately." So the men took their places.

They had hardly done so when the man came back bearing the princess,

and at a sign from Berthold sprang with her on to the eagle's neck. The

prince got up behind, and away flew the eagle--so swiftly that had

he been less collected he might have lost his balance before he had

secured his seat.

By daybreak they had reached the spot where the eagle's egg had

fallen. Berthold willingly exerted himself to restore her treasure

to her, and she was so grateful that she proposed to fly with them

home the remainder of the journey--an offer which they gladly accepted.

The Devil was still sleeping and snoring, they were assured by the

clever attendants; and away they sped, reaching home just as the king

and queen were sitting down to breakfast.

Great was the rejoicing in all the palace. The princess gladly

acknowledged Berthold's service by giving him her hand; and to all

three attendants high offices were given at court. To the eagle

was offered a gold cage and two attendants to wait on her, but she

preferred liberty on her own high mountain, and flew away, accepting

no reward but a lamb to carry home to her young ones.

When Luxehale woke next morning great was his fury to find that the

princess was gone.

"Order out a troop of horse, and send and demolish her palace, and

kill all belonging to her, and bring her home again," was the advice

of his chamberlain.

"No," replied Luxehale; "I hate violence: I have other ways at command

which I find answer better. There are people enough in the world

glad enough to follow me willingly. It is not worth while to give

myself much trouble with those who resist." And he dressed himself,

and walked out.

This time his steps were not directed towards a grand palace. He didn't

care particularly about birth or cultivation. There was a cottage

situated just above one of the alleys of his pleasure-grounds where

lived three beautiful peasant girls with an old father. Luxehale had

often listened to their merry laugh and thought how he should like

to have one of them for his wife; but he never could find any means

of getting at them, as they were very quiet and modest, and never

would enter into conversation with any stranger.

As he now walked along he heard their voices in earnest talk.

"It's great nonsense of father selling all the celery, and not letting

us have a taste of it!" said one, in a discontented voice.

"Yes, it is; I don't mean to submit to it either," said another.

"Oh, but you wouldn't disobey father!" said the first.

"Well, it's not such a great matter," replied the other; "only a foot

of celery [82]!"

Luxehale was very glad when he heard that, for he had never been able

to catch them in an act of disobedience before. He placed himself

under the celery-bed and watched all the roots. The moment one began

to shake, showing that they were pulling it up, Luxehale took hold of

the root, and held it hard, so that, instead of their pulling it up,

he contrived to drag down the girl who was trying to gather it.

It was the peasant's eldest daughter Lucia; and much surprised was she,

after passing through the hole Luxehale had made in the earth, to find

herself in the arms of a handsome cavalier, who lavished the greatest

care on her! Lucia had never been spoken to by such a good-looking

gallant before, and felt much pleased with his attention. She begged

him, however, to let her go; but he told her that was impossible. She

was his captive, and he never meant to let her go again; but if she

would only be quiet and reasonable she would be happier than any queen;

that he would take her to a magnificent palace where she would have

every thing she desired, and be as happy as the day was long, for

he would make her his wife. In fact, he succeeded in dazzling her so

with his promises that she began to feel a pleasure in going with him.

Nor did he break these promises. She was installed into all the

enjoyments of which we have seen the former wife in possession;

and as the Devil admired her beauty, and flattered and fondled her,

she did not altogether regret her captivity. But when the time came

that he had to go upon earth about his business, he brought her all

the keys of the place, with the express recommendation that she was

never to attempt to open the adamant door; then he plucked a red rose,

and placed it in her bosom, as a memorial of him, which he promised

should not fade till his return, and departed.

Lucia amused herself very well at first with various occupations and

amusements the palace afforded, and which were new to her; but as the

days fled by she began to grow weary, and at last, from being tired

and out of spirits with her loneliness, she became possessed with

so intense a curiosity to see what lay hid behind the adamant door,

that she could not resist it.

Accordingly she went down at last, with the bunch of keys in her

hand, and with trembling steps made her way up to it. But, without

even trying one of the keys, she found her touch pushed it open,

and made the terrible discovery, that it was the gate of hell! She

turned to escape, and rushed back to her apartment, to weep bitterly

over her forlorn condition.

Two or three days later a train of waggons came laden with beautiful

presents Luxehale had bought and sent home to amuse her, and she

became so interested in turning them all over, that when he returned

she was as bright and smiling as if nothing had happened.

Luxehale ran to embrace her, but suddenly observed that the rose

had withered on her bosom! When he saw that, he pushed her from

him. He had given it to her as a test to ascertain whether she had

gone through the adamant door, for the heat of the fire was sure to

tarnish it--and now he knew she was in possession of his secret.

"You have opened the adamant door!" he exclaimed, fiercely; and she,

seeing him so fierce, thought it better to deny it.

"It is useless to deny it," he replied; "for nothing else would have

tarnished that rose." And saying that, he dragged her down to it and

thrust her within its enclosure, saying, "You wanted to know what

there was behind the adamant door; now you will know all about it."

Luxehale now had to look out for another wife. He at once bethought

him of Lucia's sisters, and went pacing up and down under their garden,

as before. The two sisters were talking with some warmth.

"I don't see why father should have forbidden us to look through the

trellis!" said the voice which had spoken first on the former occasion.

"Nor I," said the other. "And I don't mean to be kept in in that

style either," said the other.

Quick as thought the Devil transformed himself into a serpent and

worked his way up through the earth to the other side of the trellis,

where he waited till the maiden put her head through, as she had

threatened. She had no sooner done so than he caught her in his coils

and carried her down under the earth. Before she had time to recover

from her surprise, he had transformed himself back into the handsome

cavalier who had charmed Lucia.

It was the second sister, Orsola; and her opposition to his advances

was as easily overcome as Lucia's. She lived in the palace as Lucia

had done, and learnt to feel great delight in its pleasures. At last

the day came when the Devil had to go upon earth about his business,

and he left her with the same charge about the adamant door, and

placed a red rose on her breast, which he promised should not fade

till his return. After a time her weariness induced Orsola to peep

through the fatal door; and the hot blast which escaped as she opened

it would have been sufficient to drive her away, but that it came

charged with the sound of a familiar voice!

"Lucia!" she screamed, in a voice thrilled with horror.

"Orsola!" returned her unhappy sister, in a tone of agony.

Orsola knew enough. She did not dare venture farther; and as she made

her way back to her apartment she saw in the court below the retinue

which had escorted her husband back. Assuming as composed a mien as

possible, she went out to meet him, and he ran towards her with every

appearance of affection--but his eye caught the withered rose.

"You have opened the adamant door," he said, sternly. "There is no

help for you; those who once pass it cannot live up above here any

more. You must go back, and live there for ever!" And, regardless of

her entreaties and cries, he dragged her down, and thrust her into

the burning pit.

Luxehale now had to search for another wife, and he determined it

should be no other than the third of the sisters. "But," he reflected,

as he walked towards her cottage, "now she has no one left to talk to,

how shall I manage? Ah, well, I generally find a way to do most things

I take in hand--and if I don't catch her I needn't break my heart;

there are plenty of girls in the world whom I have arts to enthrall."

But he did hear her voice. As he got near she was singing, very

sadly and sweetly, a verse which told her regrets for her sisters,

and called on them to return.

"That's all right!" said Luxehale, "she is sure to come to the spot

where she last saw her sister. I'll be there!"

So, transforming himself once more into a serpent, he wriggled

through the earth and took up his place of observation beside the

trellis. He had not been there long, when she actually came up to it,

singing the same melancholy strains; and then she stopped to call,

"Lucia! Orsola! Lucia! Orsola!" till the woods rang again. Then she

seemed to get weary with calling, and she leant against the trellis.

"Ha! she'll soon put her head through now," chuckled Luxehale. And so

she did, sure enough; and no sooner did her head appear on the other

side than he twisted his coils round her and dragged her down under

the earth.

Before she recovered herself he once more appeared as a handsome

cavalier.

It was Regina, the youngest and best-conducted of the sisters.

"Let me go! let me go!" she cried, refusing to look at him.

"I thought I heard you calling for your sisters," he replied,

soothingly; "don't you want to see them?"

"Oh, yes! tell me where they are."

"I can't tell you where they are," he answered; "and if I did, it

would be of no use, because you would not know the way to where they

are. But if you come with me, it is possible we may be able to hear

something about them some day. One thing is certain, no one else is

so likely to be able to hear of them as I."

Regina was terribly perplexed, something within her said she ought

not to speak to the stranger gallant. "And yet, on the other hand,

if, by going with him, I can do any thing to recover my dear sisters,"

she thought, "I ought to risk something for that."

When he saw her hesitate, he knew his affair was won; and, indeed,

it required little persuasion to decide her now. As they went along

he said so many soft and flattering things as to make her forget

insensibly about her sisters. But when they got to the palace there

were such a number of beautiful things to occupy her attention, so

much to astonish her--a poor peasant maid who had never seen any of

these fine things before--that she soon got habituated to her new life,

and the fact of her having come for her sisters' sake went quite out

of her remembrance.

Luxehale was delighted to have brought things so far; and in proportion

to the difficulty he had had in winning her, was the satisfaction he

felt in being with her; thus he spent a longer time with her than

he had with either of the other sisters. But the time came at last

when he had to go upon earth about his business; and then he gave her

the same charge as the others about the keys and the adamant door,

and the rose which was not to fade till his return.

It was not many days either before the desire to see what was

hid behind it took possession of her; but as she approached it she

already perceived that the air that came from it was dry and heated,

and as she really regarded the rose as a token of affection, she was

concerned to keep it fair and fresh, so she went back and placed it

in a glass of water, and then pursued her investigation of the secret

of the adamant door.

She had learnt enough when she had but half opened it, and smelt

the stifling fumes of sulphur which issued from the pit it guarded,

and would have turned to go, but then her sisters' voices, wailing

in piteous accents, met her ear.

"Lucia! Orsola!" she cried.

"Regina!" they replied; and then, courageously advancing farther by

the light of the lurid flames, which burnt fitfully through the smoke,

now red with a horrid glare, now ashy grey and ghastly, she descried

the beloved forms of her sisters writhing and wailing, and calling

on her to help them.

She promised to use all her best endeavours to release them, and,

in the meantime, bid them keep up their courage as best they might,

and be on the look-out to take advantage of the first chance of

escape she could throw in their way. With that she returned to her

apartment, replaced the rose in her bosom, and looked out for the

return of Luxehale. Nor did he keep her long waiting; and when he

saw the rose blooming as freshly as at the first he was delighted,

and embraced her with enthusiasm. In fact, he was so smiling and well

inclined that she thought she could not do better than take advantage

of his good humour to carry out the plan she had already conceived.

"Do you know," she said, "I don't like the way in which your people

wash my things; they dry them in a hot room. Now I've always been

accustomed to dry them on the grass, where the thyme grows, and then

they not only get beautifully aired, but they retain a sweet scent

of the wild thyme which I have always loved since the days when I was

a little, little girl, and my mother used to kiss me when she put on

my clean things."

"It shall be done as you like," said Luxehale. "I will order a field

of thyme to be got ready immediately, and your things shall always

be dried upon it. Is there nothing else, nothing more difficult,

I can do for you?"

"Well, do you know," she replied--for this would not have answered

her purpose at all--"do you know, I don't fancy that would be quite

the same thing either; there is something peculiar about the scent

of our grass and our thyme at home which is very dear to me. Wouldn't

it be possible to send the things home?"

Luxehale looked undecided.

"It's the only thing wanted to make this beautiful place perfectly

delightful," she continued.

He couldn't resist this, and promised she should do as she liked.

Regina then ordered a large box to be made, and packed a quantity of

her things into it. But in the night when all slept she went down to

the adamant door, and called Lucia.

Both sisters came running out. "One at a time!" she said. "Lucia has

been in longest; it will be your turn next." So she took Lucia up with

her, and hid her in the box under the clothes, and told her what she

had to do. She was to send all the linen back clean at the end of the

week, and well scent it with thyme, and to fill up the vacant space

with more linen, so that it might not seem to return with less in it

than when it went. She told her also, if the porter who carried the

box should take into his head to peep in, "all you have to say is,

'I see you!' and you will find that will cure him." Then she went to

bed, and slept quietly till morning.

Early next day Luxehale called a porter to carry the box, to whom she

overheard him giving secret instructions that, as soon as he had got

to a good distance, he should search the box, and let him know what

was in it before he sent him up to her for final orders.

Regina told him all about the situation of her father's cottage. "But,"

she added, "I've had my eye on you a long time--you're not a bad sort

of fellow, but you're too curious."

"Why, I've never been where your worship could see me!" answered the

porter; "I've always worked in the stables."

"I can see every where!" replied Regina, solemnly. "I can see you in

the stables as well as I can see you here, and as well as I shall be

able to see you all the way you are journeying; and if an impertinent

curiosity should take you to look at my clothes, I shall see you,

you may be sure, and shall have you properly punished, so beware!"

The porter planted the chest on his strong shoulders and walked

away. He was a devil-may-care sort of fellow, and didn't altogether

believe in Regina's power of seeing "every where," and, as his

master's injunction to look into the box accorded much better with

his own humour than Regina's order to abstain from opening it, before

he had got halfway he set it down on the ground, and opened it.

"I see you!" said Lucia, from within; and her voice was so like her

sister's that the fellow made no doubt it was Regina herself who

really saw him as she had threatened; and, clapping the box to again

in a great fright, lifted it on to his shoulders with all expedition.

"I've brought your daughter's linen to be washed!" cried the porter,

when he arrived at the cottage, to the father of the Devil's wives, who

was in his field "breaking" Indian corn. "I've got a message to carry

about a hundred miles farther and shall be back by the end of the week,

so please have it all ready for me to take back when I call for it."

The good peasant gave him a glass of his best Küchelberger [83],

and sent him on his way rejoicing.

He had no sooner departed than Lucia started up out of the box of

linen, and hastily told her father all the story. The peasant's hair

stood on end as he listened, but they felt there was no time to be

lost. All the linen Regina had sent, and all that remained in the

cottage, was washed and well scented with thyme, and packed smoothly

into the box for the porter to take back with him. They had hardly

got it all ready when he came to the gate to ask for it.

"Here you are!" said the peasant; and the porter lifted the box on

to his strong shoulders, and made the best of his way home.

"What did you find when you looked into the box?" asked the Devil,

the first time he could catch the porter alone.

"Oh! nothing whatever but dirty linen," replied he, too much of a

braggadocio to confess that he had been scared by a woman's voice.

After receiving this testimony the Devil made no sort of obstacle any

more to his wife sending a box home whenever she would, and as soon

as she collected sufficient to justify the use of the large chest

she ordered the porter to be ready over night, and then went down

and called Orsola.

Orsola came quickly enough, and was packed into the linen chest as

her sister had been, and with the same instructions. "Only, as I don't

mean to stay here much longer behind, there is no reason why we should

lose all our best linen, so don't send a great deal back this time,

but fill up the box with celery, of which Luxehale is very fond."

The porter, feeling somewhat ashamed of his pusillanimity on the last

occasion, determined this time to have a good look into the box,

for the effect of his fright had worn off, and he said to himself,

"It was only a foolish fancy--I couldn't really have heard it."

So he had hardly got half way when he set the box down, and lifted

the lid.

"I see you!" exclaimed Orsola, in a voice so like Regina's that the

lid slipped out of his hand, and fell upon the box with a crash which

startled Orsola herself. He loaded the box on his shoulders once more,

nor stopped again till he reached his destination.

Hearty was the greeting of the two sisters and their father as soon

as he was gone; and then they set to work to get the washing done.

"The weather has been so bad," said the father, when the porter

returned, "that we could not dry all the linen, please to say to your

mistress, but we hope to have it ready to go back with next week's;

beg her acceptance, however, of the celery which I have packed into

the box in its place."

"Did you look into the box this time?" said Luxehale, as soon as he

got the porter alone.

The porter did not like to acknowledge that he had been scared by

a woman, and so declared again that there was nothing in the box

but linen.

It was more difficult to arrange for her own escape, but Regina had

a plan for all. The box had now gone backwards and forwards often

enough for the porter to need no fresh directions, so she told him

over-night where he would find it in the morning; and he, finding it

seem all as usual, loaded it on his shoulders, and walked off with

it by the usual path.

He had not performed half the journey when he determined to

have a serious look into the box this time, and be scared by no

one. Accordingly he lifted the lid, but this time the words,--

"I see you!" came out of the box so unmistakably in Regina's voice,

that there was no room for doubt of her power of seeing him, and with

more haste than ever he closed it up again, and made the best of his

way to the peasant's cottage.

Both sisters and their father greeted Regina as their good angel and

deliverer when she stepped out of the box; and they went on talking

over all their adventures with no need to make haste, for Regina had

brought away with her money and jewels enough to make them rich for the

rest of their lives, so that they had no need to work any more at all.

When the porter returned to ask for the linen-chest, the peasant came

out with a humorous smile, and bid him tell his master that they had

not time to do the washing that week.

"But what shall I tell my mistress?" asked the man.

As he said so, Regina and her sisters came into the room, striking

him dumb with astonishment.

"No, you had better not go back to him," she said, compassionating

him for the treatment that would have awaited him, had he returned

without her; "Luxehale would doubtless vent his fury on you for my

absence. Better to stay here and serve us; and you need not fear his

power as long as you keep out of his territory."

After this, Luxehale determined to give up young and pretty wives,

since they proved sharp enough to outwit him, as he had before given

up rich and titled ones, who were like to have knights and princes

to deliver them.

This time he said he would look out for a bustling woman of good

common sense, who had been knocked about in the world long enough to

know the value of what he had to offer her.

So he went out into the town of Trient, and fixed upon a buxom woman of

the middle class, who was just in her first mourning for her husband,

and mourned him not because she cared for him, for he had been a bad

man, and constantly quarrelled with her, but because, now he was dead,

she had no one to provide for her, and after a life of comparative

comfort, she saw penury and starvation staring her in the face.

He met her walking in the olive-yard upon the hill whence her husband's

chief means had been derived. "And to think that all these fine trees,

our fruitful arativo, and our bright green prativo [84], are to be

sold to pay those rascally creditors of my brute of a husband!" she

mused as she sat upon the rising ground, and cried. "If he had nothing

to leave me, why did he go off in that cowardly way, and leave me

here? what is the use of living, if one has nothing to live upon?"

The Devil overheard her, and perceived she was just in the mood for

his purpose, but took care to appear to have heard nothing.

"And are you still charitably mourning because the Devil has taken

your tyrant of a husband?"

"Not because he has taken him, but because he didn't take me too,

at the same time!" answered the woman, pettishly.

"What! did you love the old churl as much as all that?" asked Luxehale.

"Love him! what put that into your head? But I didn't want to be left

here to starve, I suppose."

"Come along with me then, and you shan't starve. You shall have a

jollier time of it than with the old fool who is dead--plenty to eat

and drink, and no lack, and no work!"

"That's not a bad proposition, certainly; but, pray, who are you?"

"I am he who you regretted just now had not taken you. I will take you,

if you wish, and make you my wife."

"You the Devil!" exclaimed the woman, eyeing the handsome person he

had assumed from head to foot; "impossible, you can't be the Devil!"

"You see the Devil's not so black as he's painted," replied

Luxehale. "Believe me that is all stuff, invented by designing knaves

to deceive silly people. You can see for yourself if I don't look,

by a long way, handsomer and taller than your departed spouse, at

all events."

"There's no saying nay to that," responded the widow.

"Nor to my other proposition either," urged Luxehale; and, as he found

she ceased to make any resistance, he took her up in his arms, and,

spreading his great bat's wings, carried her down to his palace, where

he installed her as lady and mistress, much to her own satisfaction.

As she was fond of luxury and ease, and had met with little of it

before, the life in the Devil's palace suited her uncommonly well,

and yet, though she had every thing her own way, her bad temper

frequently found subject for quarrel and complaint.

It was on one occasion when her temper had thus been ruffled, and she

had had an angry dispute with Luxehale, who to avoid her wrangling

had gone off in a sullen mood to bed, that some one knocked at the

door. All the servants were gone to bed, so she got up, and asked

who was there.

"I, Pangrazio Clamer of Trient," said a somewhat tremulous voice.

"Pangrazio Clamer of Trient!" returned the widow; "come in, and

welcome. But how did you get here?"

"It's a longish story; but, first, how did you get here, and installed

here too, it seems? Ah, Giuseppa, you had better have married me!"

"I've forbidden you to talk of that," answered Giuseppa. "Besides,

I had not better have married you, for I have married a great prince,

who is able to keep me in every kind of luxury, and give me every

thing I can wish. You couldn't have done that."

"No, indeed," he sighed.

"Well, don't let's talk any more about that. Tell me how every one

is going on in Trient."

"By-and-by, if there is time. But, first, let me tell you about myself,

and what brought me here. That's strange enough."

"Well, what was it, then?"

"You know that you refused to have me, because I was poor----"

"I have already forbidden you to allude to that subject."

"You must know, then, that though I worked so hard to try and make

myself rich enough to please you, I only got poorer and poorer; while

at the same time, there was Eligio Righi, who, though his father left

him a good fortune to begin with, kept on getting richer and richer,

till he had bought up all the mines and all the olive-grounds, and

all the vineyards and mulberry-trees that were to be sold for miles

round--yours among the rest."

"That too?"

"Yes; and I often felt tempted to envy him, but I never did. One day

he came to me while I was hard at work, and said, 'You know, Pangrazio

Clamer, that I am very rich;' and I thought he didn't need to have come

and said that to me, who had all the labour in life to keep off envying

him, as it was. 'Pangrazio,' says he, 'I am not only rich, but I have

every thing I can wish, but one thing; and if I meet any one who will

do that one thing, I will take him to share my riches while I live,

and make him my heir at my death. I come first to ask you.' 'Tell me

what it is,' says I; 'I can't work harder, or fare worse, than I do

now, whatever it may be--so I'm your man.' 'Well, then, it's this,'

he continued. 'My one great unfulfilled wish through life has been

to give the Devil three good kicks, as some punishment for all the

mischief he does in the world; but I have never had the courage to

make the attempt, and now I have got old, and past the strength for

adventures, so if you will do this in my stead, I will put you in

my shoes as far as my money is concerned.' Of course, I answered I

would set out directly; and, as he had made the road by which men

get hither his study, for this very purpose, all through his life,

he could give me very exact directions for finding the Devil's abode.

"But, to get here, I had to traverse the lands of three different

sovereigns; and, as I had to go to them to get my passport properly

in order, they learned my destination, and each gave me a commission

on his own account, which I accepted, because if I should fail with

Eligio Righi's affair, I should have a chance of the rewards they

promised me to fall back on."

"And what were these three commissions?"

"The first king wants to know why the fountain which supplied all

his country with such beautiful bright water has suddenly ceased

to flow. The second king wants a remedy for the malady of his only

son, who lies at the point of death, and no physician knows what

ails him. And the third king wants to know why all the trees in his

dominions bear such splendid foliage, but bring forth no fruit."

"And you expect me to help you in all this?" said the Devil's wife.

"Well, for our old acquaintance' sake, and the bond of our common

home," said Clamer, "you might do that; and for the sake of the nearer

bond that might have united us."

"I would have refused you all you ask, to punish you for going back to

that story," said Giuseppa, "but I really desire to see old Luxehale

get a good drubbing, just now, for he has been very tiresome to-day. I

daren't give it him myself, but I'll help you to do it, if you have

a mind."

"Never mind the motive, provided you give me the help," replied

Clamer. "And will you help me to trick him out of the answers for

the three kings, as well as to give him a good drubbing?"

"That will I; for it will be good fun to counter-act some of his

mischief."

"How shall we set about it then?"

"I am just going to bed; he is asleep already. You must conceal

yourself in the curtains, and bring a big stick with you; and when

I make a sign, you must, without a moment's notice, set to and give

it him. Will that do for you?"

"Admirably! Only, remember, I have to do it three times, or I shan't

get my guerdon."

"And do you think you are certain of getting all Eligio Righi's

fortune?" said Giuseppa, earnestly.

"Oh, as sure as fate!" replied Clamer; "he's a man who never goes back

from his word. But I must fulfil all he says with equal exactness."

"And when I've helped you with half your labour, I don't see why I

shouldn't have half your guerdon."

"Nor I! You'll always find me faithful and true; and what I offered

you when I was poor, I offer you with equal heartiness when I have

the prospect of being the richest man in Trient."

"When you have done all you have to do, then, will you take me back

with you?"

"Nothing would make me happier than your consent to come with me. And

when I'm rich enough to be well fed and clothed, you'll find I'm not

such a bad-looking fellow, after all."

"Ah, you'll never be so handsome as Luxehale! But then I don't half

trust him. One never knows what trick he may take into his head to

play one. I think I should have more confidence of being able to

manage you."

"Then it's agreed; you come back with me?"

"Yes; I believe it's the best thing, after all. And now we must make

haste and set about our business."

She crept up-stairs with soft steps, and Clamer still more softly after

her. The Devil was sleeping soundly, and snoring like the roar of a

wild beast. Giuseppa stowed Clamer away in the curtains, and went to

bed too. When she heard what she reckoned one of the soundest snores,

she lifted the bed-curtains, and whispered, "Now's your time!"

Clamer did not wait to be told twice, but raised his stick, and,

as Giuseppa lifted the bed-clothes, applied it in the right place,

with a hearty good will.

Luxehale woke with a roar of pain, and Clamer disappeared behind

the curtains.

"Forgive me, dear lord!" said Giuseppa; "I had such a strange dream,

that it woke me all of a start, and I suppose made me knock you."

"What did you dream about?" said Luxehale, thinking to catch her at

fault; but Giuseppa had her answer ready.

"I thought I was travelling through a country where all the people

were panting for want of water, and as I passed along, they all

gathered round me, and desired me to tell them, what had stopped

their water from flowing, saying, 'You are the Devil's wife, so you

must know!' and when I couldn't tell them, they threw stones at me,

so that I seemed to have a hard matter to escape from them."

The Devil burst out into a loud laugh, which absorbed all his

ill-humour, as he heard this story, and Giuseppa made a sign to Clamer

to pay attention to what was to follow.

"You see, you never tell me any thing," she continued, pretending

to cry; "I never know any thing about your business, and, you see,

all those people expected I knew every thing my husband knew, as

other wives do."

"I didn't suppose you'd care to know any thing about it," replied

Luxehale, trying to soothe her; "and really there was nothing to

tell! It's an every-day matter. There was a pilgrimage chapel near

the city, to which the people used to go in procession every year;

and as long as they did that, I never could get past to get at the

fountains. But now they have left off the procession, and so I got by,

and had the fun of stopping the water."

Clamer winked to Giuseppa, to show he understood what the remedy was,

and Giuseppa said no more, so that the Devil very soon fell off to

sleep again.

When he began to snore again very soundly, she lifted the bed-clothes,

and made the agreed sign to Clamer. Clamer came forward, and applied

his stick with a hearty will in the right place, and the Devil woke

with a shout of fury.

"Oh, my dear husband!" cried Giuseppa, deprecating his wrath by her

tone of alarm; "I have had another dreadful dream!"

"What was it?" growled the Devil.

"I thought I was going through a great city where all the people were

in sorrow, and sat with ashes on their heads. And when they saw me

pass, they said they sat so because the king's son was at the point

of death, and no one could tell what ailed him, and all the doctors

were of no use; but that as I was the Devil's wife, I must know all

about it. When I couldn't tell them, they began pelting me; as they

kept putting fresh ashes on their heads each had a pan of fire by his

side, in which they were making, and they actually took the red-hot

cinders out of the pan of fire to pelt me with, and my clothes were

all on fire; so you may believe if I tried to run away fast--and it

is no wonder if I knocked you a little."

The Devil's fancy was more tickled than before with this story,

and he laughed fit to split his sides, as she proceeded, so that he

forgot all about the beating.

"It is all very well for you to lie there and laugh, but you wouldn't

have laughed if you had been treated as I was, I can tell you!" sobbed

Giuseppa. "And it's all because you never tell me any thing, as other

husbands do."

"Bosh!" answered the Devil; "I should have enough to do, if I told

you all the stories like that! Why, it's the commonest thing in the

world. That king's son was a good young man, obedient to all the

advice of his elders. But after a time he got with bad companions,

who introduced him to some of my people. After they had played him

a number of tricks, one day one of them took into his head to give

him a stunning good illness, to punish him for some luck he had had

against them at cards. And that's the history of that--there's nothing

commoner in life."

Giuseppa made a sign to know if Clamer had heard all he wanted to know,

and, finding he was satisfied, let the Devil go to sleep again.

As soon as he began to snore very soundly, Giuseppa lifted the

bed-clothes, and Clamer once more applied his stick. Whether by getting

used to the work and therefore less nervous, he really hit him harder,

or whether the previous blows had made the Devil more sensitive,

he certainly woke this time in a more furious passion than ever, and

with so rapid a start that it was all Clamer could do to get out of

his sight in time.

"What have you been dreaming now?" he exclaimed, in his most fearful

voice. "I declare, I can scarcely keep my hands off you!"

"Don't be angry," answered Giuseppa; "it is I who have had the worst

of it. I dreamt I was passing through a country where the trees had

given up bearing fruit; and when the people saw me go by, they all

came round me, and said, as I was the Devil's wife, I must know what

ailed their trees; and when I couldn't tell them, they cut down great

branches, and ran after me, poking the sharp, rough points into my

sides! You may believe if I tried to run away fast."

The Devil had never had such a laugh since he had been a devil,

as at this story, and the whole palace echoed with his merriment.

When Giuseppa found him once more in such good humour, she went on,--

"And why do you do such mischievous things, and make people so

savage? It isn't fair that they don't dare to touch you and all their

ill-will falls on me."

"As it happens, it's not my doing at all this time; at least, I didn't

go out of my way to do it for any sort of fun. It all came about in

the regular way of business."

"What do you mean?" pursued Giuseppa, who knew it was necessary to

probe the matter to the bottom.

"Why, the king of that country is a regular miser. He is so afraid

that any body should get any thing out of their gardens without paying

the due tribute to him first, that he has built such high walls round

all the orchards, and vine-gardens, and olive-yards, that no sun can

get at them. And he is so stingy, he won't pay people to dig round

them and manure, and prune, and attend to the property; so how can

the fruit grow? As long as he defrauds the poor people of their work,

he can have no fruit. It's not my fault at all!

"But, really, I've had enough of this. You'd better go and sleep

somewhere else for the rest of the night, for I can't stand being woke

up any more. If you do it again, I am sure I shall strangle you--and

that would be a pity! Go along, and dream somewhere else--and I hope

you may get properly punished before you wake next time!"

Giuseppa desired no command so much; but pretending to cry and

be much offended, she got up and went to lie down in another bed

till the Devil began to snore soundly again. Then she rose up, and,

taking all her fine clothes and jewels, went out softly, and beckoned

to Clamer to follow her.

"Suppose the Devil wakes before we get far away?" said Clamer,

beginning to get frightened as the time of trial approached.

"Never fear!" answered Giuseppa; "when he gets disturbed like that,

he sleeps for a week after it."

Then she clapped her hands, and a number of great birds came flapping

round. She helped Clamer on to the back of one, and, loading her

jewels on to another, sprang on to a third, and away they flew,

while she beckoned to three more to follow behind.

When they came to the first kingdom, Clamer left the strange cortege

behind a mountain, and went alone up to the court, to tell the

king he was a miser, and that if he gave up his sordid ways and set

the people, who were starving for want of work, to pull down half

the height of his walls, and to dig, manure, and prune his trees,

he would have as good a crop of fruit as any in the world. Then the

king acknowledged his fault, and praised Clamer for pointing it out,

and gave him a great bag of gold as his reward.

Clamer packed the sack of gold on to the back of one of the birds

which were following them, and away they sped again. When they arrived

at the second kingdom, Clamer hid his cortége in a pine forest,

and went alone to the court, to tell the king that if his son would

give up his bad companions, and live according to the advice of his

elders, he would be all well again as before. The prince was very

much astonished to find that Clamer knew about his bad behaviour,

for he had concealed it from his parents and all about him, but this

convinced him that he must be right in what he said, so he promised to

alter his life and behave according to the wise counsel of his elders

in future. From that moment he began to get better; and the king,

in joy at his restoration, gave Clamer a great sack of gold, which

he laded on to the back of the second bird; and away they flew again.

When they arrived at the third kingdom, Clamer hid his retinue in

the bed of a dried lake and went alone to the court, to tell the

king that if he would order the procession to the pilgrimage chapel

to be resumed, the Devil would not be able to get in to stop the

fountains. The king at once ordered the grandest procession that had

ever been known in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, and all the

people went out devoutly praying. Immediately the springs and fountains

began to flow again; and the king was so pleased that he gave Clamer a

great sack of gold, which he packed on to the back of the third bird;

and away they flew again, till they reached the gloomy shades of the

Val d'Ombretta, under the cold, steep precipices of the Marmolata [85].

"Here will be a good place to hide all this treasure," said Giuseppa;

"it will never do to take it into Trient all at once. We will bury

it here where foot of man seldom falls, and my birds will keep good

watch over it and defend it, and yet by their services we shall be

able to fetch down any portion of it as we want it."

Clamer saw there was some good in the proposal, but he hardly liked

giving up the possession of the treasure to Giuseppa's birds, neither

did he like to show any want of confidence.

"Don't you think it an excellent plan?" asked Giuseppa, as she saw

him hesitate.

"I think I could stow it away as safely in an old well at home," said

Clamer. "This is an uncanny place of evil renown, and I had just as

lief have nothing to do with it."

"What's the matter with the place?" asked Giuseppa.

"Oh, you know, the Marmolata was as fertile as any pasture of Tirol

once," answered Clamer; "and because the people had such fine returns

for their labour from it, they grew careless and impious, and were

not satisfied with all the week for working in it, but must needs be

at it on Sundays and holidays as well. One Sunday an ancient man came

by and chid them for their profanity. 'Go along with your old wives'

stories!' said a rich proprietor who was directing the labourers;

'Sunday and working-day is all alike to us. We have sun and rain

and a fine soil, what do we want with going to church to pray?' And

they sang,--

'Nos ongh el fengh en te tablà,

E i autri sul prà [86]!'

"The old man lifted up his finger in warning, and passed on his way;

but as he went it came on to snow. And it snowed on till it had covered

all the ground; covered all the hay up to the top; covered over the

heads of the labourers and their masters; snowed so deep that the sun

has never been able to melt it away again! A curse is on the place,

and I had rather have nothing to do with it."

"Oh, I've lived long enough where curses abound to care very little

about them," answered Giuseppa, "or I could tell you the real story

about that, for you've only got the wrong end of it. But it doesn't

do to think of those things. The only way is to laugh at all that

sort of thing, and make yourself jolly while you can."

"My story's the right one," replied Clamer, "and you won't laugh me

out of believing it."

"Oh, dear no; the right story is much more serious than that! But

I lose my patience with people who trouble themselves about those

things."

"I don't believe there's any more of the story," continued Clamer,

who was dying to hear it, and knew that the best way to get at it was

by provoking her. Had he merely begged her to tell it, she would have

found a perverse pleasure in disappointing him.

Giuseppa was very easily provoked. "The right story proves itself,"

she cried, pettishly; and Clamer chuckled aside to see his plan

succeed. "Your way of telling it only accounts for the snow; how do

you account for the ice?"

"Oh, there's no way of accounting for that," replied Clamer, with a

malicious laugh.

"Yes, there is," rejoined Giuseppa, fairly caught. "It wasn't an old

man at all who came to give the warning. It was a very young man,

for it was no one else but St. John."

"St. John!" cried Clamer; "how could that be?"

"Don't you know any thing, then?" retorted Giuseppa. "Don't you know

that there was a time when our Lord and His Apostles went walking

over the earth, preaching the Gospel?"

"Yes, of course I know that," replied Clamer, much offended.

"Well, then, in process of travelling they came here just the same as

every where else--why shouldn't they? The Apostles had been sent on to

prepare a lodging for the night, and St. John, being the youngest and

best walker, outstripped the rest, and came by first. But he was so

soft and gentle in his warning that the labourers laughed at him, and

he went on his way sighing, for he saw that their hearts were hardened.

"Then St. Peter and St. Paul came by----"

"But St. Paul--" interposed Clamer.

"Don't interrupt, but listen," said Giuseppa. "St. Peter and St. Paul,

though not younger than the others like St. John, were always in the

front in all matters, because of their eagerness and zeal, and the

important post which was assigned them in the Church. They came next,

therefore; but they, seeing the men working on Sunday, were filled

with indignation, and chid them so fiercely that they only made them

angry, and they took up stones to throw at them, and drove them out

of the ground. One by one the other Apostles all came by and warned

them, but none of them seemed to have the right way of getting at

their hearts. And they went on working, with a worse sin on them for

having been warned.

"Last of all, the Lord Himself came by, and His heart was moved

with compassion by the perversity of the people. He saw that all the

preaching of all His Apostles had been in vain, and He resolved to

save them in another way, and prove them, to see if there was any

charity or any good in them at all.

"Instead of threatening and warning, He came leaning on His staff,

weary and way-sore.

"'You have a fine Berg-Segen [87], my friends,' He said, sweetly,

as He sat on a great heap of fresh hay placed ready to load the

returning wain.

"'Oh, yes! first-rate crops,' replied the rich proprietor, with a

look of contempt at the travel-stained garments of the wayfarer;

'but they're not meant to serve as beds for idle fellows who go

prowling about the country and live by begging instead of by work,

so you just get up and take yourself off!'

"Our Lord looked at him with a piteous glance, but his heart was not

softened. 'Move off quicker than that, or you'll taste my stick!' he

cried, assuming a threatening attitude.

"Our Lord passed on, without uttering a word of complaint, till He

reached the holding of the next proprietor.

"'Where there are such fine pastures there must be fine cattle and

a fine store of produce,' He said.

"'Oh, yes, I've plenty of stores!' said the man addressed; 'and

that's just why I don't like to have loafing vagabonds about my place;

so please to move on quicker than you came.'

"'But I'm weary, my good man, and have come a long journey this day,

and have nothing to eat: give me, now, but one sup of milk from your

bountiful provision there.'

"'Give!' answered the man; 'I've nothing to give away. I work hard

for all I gain, and I don't encourage those who don't work.'

"'But you won't miss the little I ask--and I have travelled very far

and am very weary,' replied our Lord, condescending to speak very

piteously, to see if He could not by any means move the man's heart.

"'Hola! you there! Domenico, Virgilio, Giacomo, Rocco, Pero! come

along here, and throw this fellow out!' shouted the proprietor.

"The men turned with their pitchforks, and drove the wayfarer rudely

away, without pity, notwithstanding that His legs trembled with

weariness and the way was so steep.

"Our Lord uttered not a word, and hasted on, that He might not increase

their condemnation by resistance.

"But the heavens grew black with anger at the sight; the storm-clouds

gathered in vengeance; grey and leaden, mass above mass, they thickened

over the devoted peak of the Marmolata; the sun ceased to smile,

and a horrible darkness fell around.

"Closer and closer lowered the clouds, till they fell, enveloping

the mountain-top with white fields of snow.

"'Nay!' cried the Saviour, compassionately; 'Father, stay Thine

hand!' And for a moment the convulsion of the angry element was

stilled. 'They knew not what they did,' He pleaded; and He passed

down the path to the next holding.

"'See,' He said to the proprietor, who was watching the strange storm

with some alarm, 'see how terrible are the judgments of God! Give Him

praise for the blessing He has poured out on you, and save yourself

from His anger.'

"'What have I to do with the misfortunes of others? Every thing goes

right with me.'

"'But it may not always. Be wise betimes, and render praise to God.'

"'What do I know about God?' answered the man; 'I've enough to do with

taking care of the earth; I don't want to puzzle my head about heaven!'

"'All good gifts are from heaven.' replied the Lord, faintly; and He

sank upon the ground exhausted.

"'See!' cried a woman who had come out with her husband's dinner,

'see, He has fallen; will you do nothing to restore Him?' And she

ran to raise Him up.

"'Let Him lie.' said her master, pushing her roughly away; 'it were

better the earth were rid of such idle fellows.'

"He had filled up the measure of his iniquity. 'Hard and icy as his

heart has been, so shall his pasture be!' proclaimed the Angel of

Judgment. And as he spread his arms abroad, the clouds fell over the

sides of the mountain; the cold blast turned them into ice, and it

became a barren glacier for evermore.

"But the angels carried the Lord to the place the Apostles had prepared

for Him. And the woman who had pitied Him alone escaped and recorded

the story."

A shudder had fallen over Clamer, and he seemed hardly inclined

to break the silence which reigned around. There was not a bird to

chirp a note, nor a leaf to flutter, nor a blade of grass to gladden

the eye. Meantime they had reached the Fassathal, which, though so

fruitful farther along, is scarcely more smiling at its east end.

"Were it not well, Pangrazio," urged Giuseppa, "to bury our treasure

here, before we get nearer the habitations of men? Ah!" she added,

"I see what it is, it is not of the weird neighbourhood that you are

shy, it is that you trust not me! you think if my birds guard the

treasure you will have less control over it than I!"

"Oh, no!" answered Clamer, ashamed to have been found out; "it is not

that; but there are as many weird warnings rife here as concerning the

Marmolata. Does not the Feuriger Verräther [88] haunt this place? and

does not the Purgametsch conceal a village which was buried for its

sins? Is it not just here that lurk the Angane and the Bergostanö

[89]?"

"Really, I can undertake to defend you against all these chimerical

fancies," replied Giuseppa, scornfully; "but if you don't feel any

confidence in me, it is absurd our attempting to live together."

"It is not that--I have told you it is not that!" cried Clamer.

"Then shall we do it?" urged she. Thus driven, Clamer could not

choose but give in; and Giuseppa sent her monster birds to conceal the

treasure they bore, in the hole she pointed out high up in the rocks,

and remain in guard over it.

This done they sped over the pleasant Fleimserthal and Cembrathal

to Trient.

Eligio Righi received his returning envoy with a hearty welcome, and

listened without wearying to his frequent repetition of the tale of

his adventures. The part where he described the manner in which he

had administered the chastisement on the Devil was what delighted

him most, and the account of the roaring of the Devil with the pain.

Moreover, he kept his word, and opened his house and his purse to

Clamer, who shared every thing as if it had been his own, and even

obtained his sanction to bring home his wife, though he durst not

tell him how he obtained her.

Giuseppa had now not only a fine house and broad lands, and plenty of

servants and clothes, and every thing she wished for, but she had only

to send one of her birds to the treasury in the Fassathal to supply

all her caprices as well as wants--yet she was always complaining

and quarrelling. Pangrazio often found her quite unbearable; but he

remembered she was his wife, and he forgave her, though the more he

gave in, the more unreasonable she got.

In the meantime, it must not be supposed that Luxehale had never

awaked. True, he slept on for a good week, as Giuseppa had predicted,

but that over, he woke up in a pretty passion at finding she had

escaped.

With all her evil temper, Giuseppa had suited him very well; he rather

enjoyed an occasional broil, it was much more to his taste than peace

and amity--and besides, he was sure always to get the best of it. So

he determined that this time, instead of going in search of a new wife,

he would get the old one back.

"Those who come to me in the way she did," he reflected, "don't

escape so easily. The others I more or less deceived. They came

with me thinking I was one of their own sort; but she followed me

with her eyes open--she knew all about me before she came. Besides,

they hated the place the moment they found out where they were, but

she knew what it was, and yet liked it all along. No, I don't think

she's of the sort that go back in thorough earnest."

So he dressed himself up in his best, put a plume in his hat and a

flower in his button-hole, and went off to Trient. He had not watched

the house where Giuseppa lived many days before he heard her voice

raised to that angry key he knew so well.

"That'll do for me," he said, rubbing his hands. "It's all going

on right."

"What do you want more?" he heard Clamer plead. "If there is any

thing I can do to please you, I will do it!"

"You are a fool! and there's nothing in you can please me," screamed

Giuseppa, too angry to be pacified; "you're not like Luxehale. Why

did you ever take me away from him? He was something to look at!"

"It's going on all right!" said Luxehale, chuckling.

"Why did you come away?" said Pangrazio, quietly.

"I didn't know what I was about! Would that I had never done it!" she

added.

"Oh, don't say that!" replied Pangrazio, imploringly. But instead

of being won by his kindness she only grew the more noisy, till at

last Pangrazio could stand it no longer, and he went out to avoid

growing angry.

"Now is my time!" said the Devil; and he slipped round to the

window. Giuseppa was still fretting and fuming, and invoking Luxehale

at the top of her voice.

"Here I am!" said Luxehale. "Will you come back with me, and leave

this stupid loafer?"

"What you there!" cried Giuseppa, rushing to the window, and kissing

him. "Of course I'll go with you. Take me away!"

"All right; jump down!" said Luxehale, helping her over the

window-sill. Giuseppa threw herself into his arms, and away they

walked. Arrived outside the town, Luxehale lifted her up, spread his

black bat's wings, and carried her off.

"Go through the Fleimserthal and the Fassathal," said Giuseppa;

"I've got something to show you there."

"Any thing to please you!" answered Luxehale.

"Oh, it's not to please me!" cried Giuseppa, taking offence.

"Now don't begin again; it won't do with me!" replied Luxehale,

with a sternness he had never before exercised. "Mind, I don't mean

to allow any more of it."

"Oh, if that's to be it," said Giuseppa, "I'll go back again to

Pangrazio."

"No, you won't!" replied Luxehale; "you don't go back any more,

I'll take good care of that! And now, what did you want to come by

the Fassathal for?"

"Only because it's the way I passed with Pangrazio, and it renewed

a sweet memory of him."

"That won't do for me! What was the real reason?"

"What will you give me if I tell you?"

"Nothing. But if you don't tell me, I shall know how to make you."

Giuseppa's courage failed her when she heard him talk like this. She

knew she had given herself to him of her own will, and so she belonged

to him, and she could not help herself; and now, the best course she

could think of was to tell him of the treasure, and trust to the good

humour it would put him in, for he was very avaricious, to get her

forgiveness out of him.

Clamer came back from a walk outside the town--where he had gone to get

cool after his wife's scolding--just in time to see Luxehale spread

his wings and fly away with Giuseppa in his arms. He called to her,

but she did not hear him; and all he could do was to stand watching

them till they were out of sight.

He came back so gloomy and dejected that his friend Eligio Righi was

quite distressed to see him. He was so sympathizing, indeed, that

Pangrazio could not forbear telling him the whole story. "Then, if

that is so, you need not regret being quit of her," moralized his sage

friend: "she was no wife for an honest man. And as for the treasure,

you have enough without that. It was but ill-gotten gain which came

to you for knowledge obtained from such a source."

[82] We say, "a head of celery;" in Italy they say, "a foot of celery."

[83] A favourite vintage of Tirol.

[84] Arativo and prativo are dialectic in Wälsch Tirol for arable

and pasture land.

[85] "On our right soared the implacable ridges of the Marmolata,"

writes a modern traveller; "the sheer, hard smoothness of whose

scarped rocks filled one with a kind of horror only to look at them."

[86] "We have hay in the stables, and more also in the meadow."

[87] Berg-Segen (literally "mountain-blessing") is the form in which

Tirol in its piety expresses the ordinary word crop.

[88] See Preface.

[89] Two kinds of more or less mischievous strie, or wild fairies.