"Go hang thyself, then, and sue Alasco in the Devil's Court of Chancery,

for thither he has carried the cause."

"How!--what dost thou mean is he dead?"

"Ay, truly is he," said Varney; "and properly swollen already in the

face and body. He had been mixing some of his devil's medicines, and the

glass mask which he used constantly had fallen from his face, so that

the subtle poison entered the brain, and did its work."

"SANCTA MARIA!" said Foster--"I mean, God in His mercy preserve us from

covetousness and deadly sin!--Had he not had projection, think you? Saw

you no ingots in the crucibles?"

"Nay, I looked not but at the dead carrion," answered Varney; "an ugly

spectacle--he was swollen like a corpse three days exposed on the wheel.

Pah! give me a cup of wine."

"I will go," said Foster, "I will examine myself--" He took the lamp,

and hastened to the door, but there hesitated and paused. "Will you not

go with me?" said he to Varney.

"To what purpose?" said Varney; "I have seen and smelled enough to spoil

my appetite. I broke the window, however, and let in the air; it reeked

of sulphur, and such like suffocating steams, as if the very devil had

been there."

"And might it not be the act of the demon himself?" said Foster, still

hesitating; "I have heard he is powerful at such times, and with such

people."

"Still, if it were that Satan of thine," answered Varney, "who thus

jades thy imagination, thou art in perfect safety, unless he is a most

unconscionable devil indeed. He hath had two good sops of late."

"How TWO sops--what mean you?" said Foster--"what mean you?"

"You will know in time," said Varney;--"and then this other banquet--but

thou wilt esteem Her too choice a morsel for the fiend's tooth--she must

have her psalms, and harps, and seraphs."

Anthony Foster heard, and came slowly back to the table. "God! Sir

Richard, and must that then be done?"

"Ay, in very truth, Anthony, or there comes no copyhold in thy way,"

replied his inflexible associate.

"I always foresaw it would land there!" said Foster. "But how, Sir

Richard, how?--for not to win the world would I put hands on her."

"I cannot blame thee," said Varney; "I should be reluctant to do that

myself. We miss Alasco and his manna sorely--ay, and the dog Lambourne."




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