whipped it under his
doublet. "Aha! you cannot outwit me," shrieked the fiend; but as he was
laying hands upon the architect the young man brought forth the talisman
he carried. "A priest has told you of this, for no one else would have
thought of it," cried the Devil, breathing flame from his nostrils. But
his wrath availed him naught; he was forced to retreat before the sacred
relic, yet as he stepped backward he uttered a deadly curse. "You have
deceived me," he hissed; "but know that fame will never come to you;
your name will be forgotten for evermore."

And behold, the fiend's prophecy was fulfilled. The cathedral was
scarcely completed ere the young architect's name became irrevocably
forgotten, and now this grisly tale is all that is known concerning his
identity.

Cologne Cathedral: Its Erection

There are several other tales to account for the belief prevalent at
one time that Cologne Cathedral would never be completed. The following
legend attributes the unfinished state of the edifice to the curse of
a jealous architect. At the time the building was commenced a rival
architect was engaged in planning an aqueduct to convey to the city a
supply of water purer than that of the Rhine. He was in this difficulty,
however: he had been unable to discover the exact position of the spring
from which the water was to be drawn. Tidings of the proposed structure
reached the ears of the builder of the cathedral, a man of strong
passions and jealous disposition, and in time the other architect asked
his opinion of the plans for the aqueduct.

Now it so happened that the architect of the cathedral alone had known
the situation of the spring, and he had communicated it to his wife, but
to no other living creature; so he replied boastfully:

"Speak not to me of your aqueduct. My cathedral, mighty as it will be,
shall be completed before your little aqueduct." And he clinched his
vainglorious assertion with an oath.

Indeed, it seemed as though his boast would be justified, for the
building of the sacred edifice proceeded apace, while the aqueduct was
not even begun, because of the difficulty of finding the spring. The
second architect was in despair, for of a certainty his professional
reputation was destroyed, his hopes of fame for ever dashed, were he
unable to finish the task he had undertaken.

His faithful wife strove to lighten his despondency, and at last,
setting her woman's wit to work, hit on a plan whereby