hotly disputed were these claims, as many red coxcombs testified.  Across that point where the green field flourished, not a foot was set, for the Kaiser’s care of the farmer, and affection for good harvests, made itself respected even in the heat of those jealous rivalries.  It was said of him, that he would have camped in a bog, or taken quarters in a cathedral, rather than trample down a green blade of wheat, or turn over one vine-pole in the empire.  Hence the presence of Kaiser Heinrich was never hailed as Egypt’s plague by the peasantry, but welcome as the May month wherever he went.

Father Gregory and Farina found themselves in the centre of a group ere they drew rein, and a cry rose, ’The good father shall decide, and all’s fair,’ followed by, ‘Agreed!  Hail and tempest! he’s dropped down o’ purpose.’

‘Father,’ said one, ’here it is!  I say I saw the Devil himself fly off Drachenfels, and flop into Cologne.  Fritz here, and Frankenbauch, saw him too.  They’ll swear to him:  so ’ll I. Hell’s thunder! will we.  Yonder fellows will have it ‘twas a flash o’ lightning, as if I didn’t see him, horns, tail, and claws, and a mighty sight ‘twas, as I’m a sinner.’

A clash of voices, for the Devil and against him, burst on this accurate description of the Evil spirit.  The Monk sank his neck into his chest.

‘Gladly would I hold silence on this, my sons,’ said he, in a supplicating voice.

‘Speak, Father,’ cried the first spokesman, gathering courage from the looks of the Monk.

Father Gregory appeared to commune with himself deeply.  At last, lifting his head, and murmuring, ‘It must be,’ he said aloud: 

’’Twas verily Satan, O my sons!  Him this night in mortal combat I encountered and overcame on the summit of Drachenfels, before the eyes of this youth; and from Satan I this night deliver ye! an instrument herein as in all other.’

Shouts, and a far-spreading buzz resounded in the camp.  Hundreds had now seen Satan flying off the Drachenstein.  Father Gregory could no longer hope to escape from the importunate crowds that beset him for particulars.  The much-contested point now was, as to the exact position of Satan’s tail during his airy circuit, before descending into Cologne.  It lashed like a lion’s.  ’Twas cocked, for certain!  He sneaked it between his legs like a lurcher!  He made it stumpy as a brown bear’s!  He carried it upright as a pike!

‘O my sons! have I sown dissension?  Have I not given ye peace?’ exclaimed the Monk.

But they continued to discuss it with increasing frenzy.

Farina cast a glance over the tumult, and beheld his friend Guy beckoning earnestly.  He had no difficulty in getting away to him, as the fetters of all eyes were on the Monk alone.

The Goshawk was stamping with excitement.

‘Not a moment to be lost, my lad,’ said Guy, catching his arm.  ’Here, I’ve had half-a-dozen fights already for this bit of ground.  Do you know that fellow squatting there?’