love, my sweet Mathilde!"

"Virgin love!" said the Baron. "Upon my soul, this is too bad!" and he
thought of the lady's lover whom he had caused to be hanged.

But SHE only thought of him who stood singing at her window.

"Niece Matilda!" cried Sir Roger, agonizedly, "wilt thou listen to the
lies of an impudent page, whilst thine uncle is waiting but a dozen
words to make him happy?"

At this Matilda grew angry: "Edward is neither impudent nor a liar, Sir
Uncle, and I will listen to the end of the song."

"Come away," said Mercurius; "he hath yet got wield, field, sealed,
congealed, and a dozen other rhymes beside; and after the song will come
the supper."

So the poor soul was obliged to go; while the lady listened, and the
page sung away till morning.

"My virtues have been my ruin," said poor Sir Rollo, as he and Mercurius
slunk silently out of the window. "Had I hanged that knave Edward, as I
did the page his predecessor, my niece would have sung mine ave, and I
should have been by this time an angel in heaven."

"He is reserved for wiser purposes," responded the devil: "he will
assassinate your successor, the lady Mathilde's brother; and, in
consequence, will be hanged. In the love of the lady he will be
succeeded by a gardener, who will be replaced by a monk, who will
give way to an ostler, who will be deposed by a Jew pedler, who shall,
finally, yield to a noble earl, the future husband of the fair Mathilde.
So that, you see, instead of having one poor soul a-frying, we may now
look forward to a goodly harvest for our lord the Devil."

The soul of the Baron began to think that his companion knew too much
for one who would make fair bets; but there was no help for it; he would
not, and he could not, cry off: and he prayed inwardly that the brother
might be found more pious than the sister.

But there seemed little chance of this. As they crossed the court,
lackeys, with smoking dishes and, full jugs, passed and repassed
continually, although it was long past midnight. On entering the hall,
they found Sir Randal at the head of a vast table, surrounded by a
fiercer and more motley collection of individuals than had congregated
there even in the time of Sir Rollo. The lord of the castle had
signified that "it was his royal pleasure to be drunk," and the
gentlemen of his train had obsequiously followed their master. Mercurius
was delighted with the scene, and relaxed his usually rigid countenance
into