by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER IV.
THE DEMONS! THE DEMONS!
What were the prelate and the count engaged in while the Vagres wereapproaching the ecclesiastical villa through the underground gallery?What were they engaged in? They were emptying cup upon cup. The count'sleude had returned to the burg in quest of the pretty blonde slave girl.While waiting for him, Bishop Cautin, hardly able to contain himself forthe joy that he anticipated in the possession of the girl whom hecoveted, had returned to his seat at the table. Neroweg had not yetrecovered from his recent fright; ever and anon a shiver would run overhim. Every time it occurred to him that hell had just yawned at his veryfeet and might be located under the very room in which he found himself,he would gladly have left the banquet hall. He dared not. He believedhimself protected by the holy presence of the bishop against the attacksof the devils, who might elsewhere fall upon him. In vain did the man ofGod urge his guest to drain another cup; the count pushed the cup backwith his hand while his gimlet eyes, resembling the eyes of a frightenedbird of prey, rolled uneasily over the hall.
Impassible in his seat, the hermit laborer remained sunk in meditation,or observed what took place around him.
"What ails you?" the bishop asked the count. "You look downcast anddrink no more! A minute ago you were a fratricide, and now, thanks tothe absolution that I gave you, you are white as snow. Is yourconscience still uneasy? Can it be that you hid some other crime fromme? If you did, you chose your time ill--as you saw, hell is not faraway--"
"Keep still, father! Keep still! I feel so weak just now that I couldnot carry a lamb on my back--I who can otherwise raise a wild-boar. Donot leave your son in Christ alone! You are able to conjure the demonsaway--I shall not leave you till it is broad day--"
"You will nevertheless have to leave me the moment the pretty blondeslave arrives; I must take her to the women's section of the house nearFulvia."
"As truly as one of my ancestors was called the Terrible Eagle inGermany, I shall not quit you any more than your shadow."
"An ancestor of that Neroweg was called the Terrible Eagle inGermany--the meeting is odd," thought the hermit to himself. "It doesseem that our two hostile families, the one Frank the other Gaul, havingcrossed each other's path in the past, must cross it again--and are torecross it, perhaps, again and again through the centuries to come--"
"Count, your terror proves to me that your soul is not at ease--Imistrust that your confession was not complete."
"Yes, yes; I confessed everything!"
"I hope to God it be so, for the salvation of your soul. But cheer up!Let us talk of the hunt. Oh! By the way of the hunt, I have a complaintagainst you and your forester slaves. The other day they pursued threestags into the very heart of the Church's forest--in that part of thewood that is separated from the rest of your domains by the river."
"If my forester slaves pursued any stag into your forest, I shall allowyours to pursue one into mine; our woods are separated only by a narrowroad."
"A better boundary would be the river itself."
"In that case I would have to abandon to you fully a thousand acres ofwoodland, which lie on this side of the stream."
"Do you place much store by that little corner of your forest? The treesdo not thrive very well at that spot."
"Not as poorly as you would make out. There are among them oak treesmore than twenty feet around; besides, it is that portion of my domainsthat game seems to like best."
"You boast of the beauty of your trees; it is your right; but yourdomains would have a better and safer boundary if you took the river,and if you consented to yield to the Church that corner of a thousandacres."
"What makes you speak of my woods? I have no need of any furtherabsolution from you--"
"No--you killed one of your wives, one of your concubines and yourbrother Ursio--you have expiated those crimes by endowing theChurch--you have received absolution. Nevertheless, coming to think ofit, there is one thing that both of us have overlooked--and it is ofcapital importance--"
"What is it, father?"
"Your fourth wife, Wisigarde, died a violent death at your hands. Shedid not receive priestly assistance at her death--her soul is in pain.She might come to torment you during the night in the shape of somefrightful phantom until you will have drawn her poor soul frompurgatory--"
"How can I do that?"
"Through the holy mass and through the prayers of a priest of the Lord."
"Well, father, I wish you to make those prayers for the soul of thedeparted."
"I shall grant your request. For twenty years prayers shall be recitedat the altar for the repose of the soul of Wisigarde, but only undercondition that you pass over to me the corner of your woods that isseparated from your domains by the stream--"
"Give again to your Church! Ever give! Ever!"
"Would you prefer to be tormented by nocturnal phantoms?"
The Frank looked at the bishop with an angry and defiant eye:
"Rapacious Gaul! You are seeking to pluck piece by piece from me theshare of the conquests that our kings have presented to my family as ourhereditary possessions. Endow the Church still more! I will sooner endowthe devil! Yes, by all the horns of Lucifer!"
"Do! Endow him! Here he is!" came from a rude loud voice that seemed toissue from the center of the earth.
At the sound of the voice the hermit started from his seat; the bishopthrew himself back and quickly crossed himself, but a reassuring thoughtflashed through his mind, and he said to himself aloud in Latin:
"It must be my good assistant who remained below--the trick is good!"
The count, however, struck with terror and believing himself pursued bythe archfiend in person, screamed aloud and fled from the banquet halldistracted. So precipitate was his flight and headlong his bewildermentthat he nearly upset the leude who, back at that moment from his errandto the count's burg, entered the hall pushing before him the youngblonde slave whom he was sent in quest of:
"Here is the slave girl, Odille," said the leude.
The bishop started to run towards the poor lass, but at the very momentwhen he dashed forward to seize her, a vigorous hand that rose from theopening of the now again removed mosaic slab held the prelate back bythe fold of his robe, and a voice shouted:
"A profligate you shall no longer be, holy man of God! That pretty lassis not for you!"
When the startled bishop looked around, he saw with terror Ronan issuingfrom the underground recess at the head of his companions, all of whomwere yelling at the top of their voices. In order to carry on the humorof the trick that the bishop played upon the count, the Vagres had allblackened their faces with the charred remains of the fagots thatshortly before furnished the "flames of hell."
At the sight of those black men rising from under the ground, andyelling as if possessed, the leude who brought in the young slave alsobelieved that they issued from hell, and rushed out close upon Neroweg'sheels, crying:
"The demons! The demons!"
More and more frightened by these cries, the count ran to the stable,leaped upon his horse, and dashed full tilt away from the episcopalvilla. His leudes followed his example; they, in turn, took to theirmounts, and leaving their arms behind in the banquet hall, fledtumultuously, repeating in terror:
"The demons! The demons!"