Legends of Lancashire 15

Legends of Lancashire 15

Saucer eyes, in the edges of which there lurked such a malicious wink and twinkle; a mouth, occasionally,

when it could be seen, as wide and black as the pit whence he came,

in which hung a tongue, bright and lurid with a serpent’s poison,

breathing out thence visibly a blue air; naked limbs, around which

a green light flickered, shewing neither skin, muscle, nor bone,

but an indescribable substance: large black hoofs, hanging from

small ancles; all these parts changed, and poor Gideon stared,

perfectly bewildered at the proportions of his opponent. He soon,

however, regained his wonted composure, and broke the silence,--

 

“Nay, enemy of man, think not thus to confound me, with your

childish tricks. Be a man, Nicholas, and not a fool.” In a moment

around the circle which had been made, a blue flame flashed. The

devil danced on the outside, with the cypress for his stilts. His

face was concealed, and he now wore the garb of a scrivener, with

paper and pens stuck in his belt. He leapt to the ground, and there

he stood, of small stature, but twisting and pliable.

 

“Gideon Chiselwig,” said the learned clerk, “you are a brave

earth-clod. I am an antiquarian in my small way, and should be glad

of your autograph on this parchment. In my desk at home, I have the

names of great warriors, statesmen, and poets, but am yet denied

the honour of that of a tailor. Mine is a rare and a valuable

museum. Friend, be so kind as to write me ‘Gideon Chiselwig’ here,

in this corner. Now,”--and he unfolded a long roll, and held it

out to Gideon. “Nay, nay, your hands are stiff and cold, with the

blowing of this storm; give me a shake, and I’ll warm them. Tush!

Gideon a coward? Then write me your initials.”

 

“I came not here,” solemnly returned the tailor, “to sport, but to

fight with you. Prepare for combat, or write on the parchment, a

coward.”

 

“What! fight without a challenge? Here are the articles; write your

name, and then I must gird myself for battle. Come, the night is

cold--cold--and I shiver.”

 

“That will be a change, friend, I guess,” interrupted Jeremiah,

who now venturing to raise his head, saw nothing formidable in

the enemy, “I warrant thee, that some of your associates are not

shivering at present. I suppose that during summer, there is not

much rain in your country, and during winter not much frost or

snow.”

 

No reply was made to the polite address of Jeremiah, but the clerk

had already placed the pen in the hand of Gideon.

 

“Where is the ink?”

 

“In your veins; prick them with a needle, or be a coward. Blood is

the challenge to deadly combat.”

 

“Do all other inks freeze in your country?” again inquired

Jeremiah, and again he received no answer.

 

Gideon did as he was directed, and wrote his name on the parchment.

He observed that the blood dried as soon as it fell from the pen,

and became indelible.

 

“Fool! fool!” exclaimed the fiend, with a loud shriek of joy,

“thou art for ever lost. This is a contract that you will be my

servant in hell. Two conditions are granted to you; or, rather, two

deeds to which you may command me. Next night we meet again, and

when morning comes, you are mine. Live a pleasant day to morrow.

Ask two things, and here I have pledged to grant them, or you are

free. The parchment may not be wiped, and cannot be torn!”

 

This was spoken in a tone so fiendish and exulting, that Gideon’s

heart failed him. He now knew that he was altogether in the power

of the enemy, with only one day to live; and then a horrible

departure from this world; and in the next world such a revolting

service in which he was to be employed. He bent down on his

knees, and clasping his hands in extreme agony and terror, looked

imploringly upon the fiend, and cried out--

 

“Oh! spare me! I can be of no use to you.”

 

“More,” was the reply, “than you are to any one on earth. Ah!

Gideon, you’ll make a good member of society there.”

 

“Nay, nay,” returned Gideon, “I may lie in a hot and black corner

of the pit, like an old woman by the fire, who cannot move about.

I shall do nothing but retch, and cry for water. I could not go on

any errand of yours--could not whisper mischief in any person’s

ear. You might torment me, but I should be utterly unable to serve

you. Oh! spare me!”

 

“Spare him,” began Jeremiah with averted face. “Had he been a

ruffian, he would have been of essential service in any vacant

situation. But, sir, and I speak with great respect, Gideon would

be the laziest footman in your employ. He could not travel from

your place to Ormskirk in less than a life-time. And then he would

have forgot your messages, and lost your letters, unless they were

put in his nightcap, and that, you know well, could not hold as

many as you require. Gideon Chiselwig an imp of darkness! why a

little infant could cheat him of an apple! Perhaps he would then be

fonder of a snow ball. Ah! he is too simple to be a man, and how

could he be a devil?”

 

The fiend laughed, and pointing to the name on the parchment,

written with blood, bade Gideon recollect that he was his property,

by contract and consent.

 

“Oh!” once more ejaculated Gideon, “spare me! What! must I leave--”

 

“Nelly, you mean? Fear not. I shall bring her to you in good time.

The separation cannot be long.”

 

“Oh!” resumed the tailor, “must I die,--have my brains dashed out

against the wall, as your victims generally are treated?”

 

“No, no, Gideon, they shall even then be covered with your

nightcap--”

 

“To leave my profession, to--”

 

“No, no,” was the reply, “you shall then make my pantaloons

of many colours. My wages are--but I dare not quote from that

Book.--You understand me, Gideon. You need not shriek: spare your

lungs, as they will have exercise enough, and yet they will not

require sewing and mending. They must last as long as your service,

and that is for ever. I shall never dismiss you for bad conduct,

Gideon. Eternity is the term of the engagement between us. Oh!

eternity!”--and here all the farce and pantomime vanished, as

his form changed into one of lofty power, and his voice thrilled

with eloquence from the remembrance, and the still more intense

anticipation of endless woe. “Oh! Eternity, how vast thou art.

No shore, a boundless sea! No bank, nor yet a little island, on

which the lost can alight, and, for a moment, quit the gulf, and

shake off their pain. The scroll of fate is placed in the hand,

written with woe: long and long may it unfold itself, but the last

roll never comes. Oh! Eternity! thou hast no resting place for

the bright foot of Hope:--yes,” and here Satan assumed the same

appearance as before, “Gideon, our engagement expires only with

eternity: you shall board with me, and have enough of food--not

much ale or water, however, but a great supply of fuel, and that

gratis. But before I depart, name two requests which you may wish

me to fulfil. Would you enjoy power or beauty? They shall be

granted, and the poor tailor may sit on a throne, or at the side of

a beautiful empress. Amidst all, think of the coming night, when

your appetite is about to pall, and how will it be whetted!--Name

two requests.”

 

Jeremiah started up, so sudden was the advent of the idea in his

mind, and no longer miserable, thinking that Gideon would now

successfully puzzle Satan. He whispered into his brother’s ear,

“Ask for the reformation of Nelly!”

 

“Well then,” said the tailor addressing the enemy, “the first

condition is, that you thoroughly reform my wife: make her to

love me; to give me due allowance of food, fuel, sleep, and all

necessaries, and not to beat me. She may comb my head, but must

not scratch it. She may kiss, but not bite me. The vinegar must be

taken from her temper, and honey put in. The poker must only be

used for the coals: in short, you have undertaken an impossibility.

You may have made her what she is--but you cannot unmake her.”

 

“Ah! master Nicholas,” chuckled Jeremiah, who was vain of having

suggested the above condition, “give it up, and confess that you

are an easy simpleton for once. A devil make an angel of a woman!

Ridiculous, quite ridiculous, Nick. You may pare her nails, but

you cannot keep her from scratching. Say no more, give it up and

depart, and carry a globe of snow on your shoulders, to your abode,

to cool some of your friends.”

 

Lightning flashed over Jeremiah’s head as he finished speaking, and

effectually withered up his wit, as well as his courage. A long

silence ensued, broken by the fiend at last, as he said--

 

“The condition shall be fulfilled. Your person shall be sacred to

your wife, no more to come in contact with poker or fist, nails

or teeth. She shall supply your grinders with every thing but her

own fingers. As for sleep, you have not much time for that, before

I come to claim you as my slave. And as for fuel, Nelly will seat

you close by the grate, and you may take warm coals in your hand

like boiled potatoes: and do not feel the least anxiety about fuel

hereafter, you shall have great abundance then. Nay, nay, Gideon,

your wife’s temper shall likewise be reformed. Oh! you are a man of

discrimination, and have perceived that it is no easy task which

you have assigned me.--Now name your other condition.”

 

Gideon then trembled, lest the first condition should be fulfilled,

and thought over some impossibility which he should ask the devil

to perform, as the fulfilment of the second condition.

 

“Then build me a wall, with stone and mortar, an hour before

daybreak to morrow.”

 

“Provided there be a thaw.”

 

“No provisions,” boldly replied Gideon,--“no provisions. And lest

there should be a thaw occasioned by crowds passing, it must not

be built in a thoroughfare, but in a field at some distance from

Ormskirk. It must be four hundred yards in length, and five feet in

height, and all finished in an hour.”

 

“Why, Nick,” interrupted Jeremiah, whose courage flowed as well

as ebbed, “you will take an hour to bring the sand from the

sand-hills. Besides, no honest man will lend you his horse and

cart.” No answer was returned, and the enemy walked around the

circle once or twice, and then stood full in front of Gideon, while

the parchment, with his name, burned brighter, and more bright. But

the flame did not conceal the blood by which it had been written,

and the form of a heart, weltering amidst the flame, turning in agony, and guarded by the name.