! yes!... but ... I hate her!"

"I see," said Satan, "that you are a coward, and wicked like all men.
Since you have heard and seen enough at a distance, listen, and look at
your feet...."

The wall closed with a loud crash of the stones as they came together,
and Sylvestre Ker saw that he was surrounded by an enormous heap of
gold-pieces, as high as his waist, which gently floated, singing the
symphony of riches. All around him was gold, and through the gap in the
roof the shower of gold fell, and fell, and fell.

"Am I the master of all this?" asked Sylvestre Ker.

"Yes," replied Satan; "you have compelled me, who am gold, to come forth
from my caverns; you are therefore the master of gold, provided you
purchase it at the price of your soul. You cannot have both God and
gold. You must choose one or the other."

"I have chosen," said Sylvestre Ker. "I keep my soul."

"You have firmly decided?"

"Irrevocably."

"Once, twice, ... reflect! You have just acknowledged that you still love
the laughing Matheline."

"And that I hate her.... Yes, ... it is so.... But in eternity I wish
to be with my dear mother, Josserande."

"Were there no mothers," growled Satan, "I could play my game much
better in the world!"

And he added,--

"For the third time, ... adjudged!"

The heap of gold became as turbulent as the water of a cascade, and
leaped and sang; the millions of little sonorous coins clashed against
each other, and then all was silent and they vanished.

The room appeared as black as a place where there had been a fire;
nothing could be seen but the lurid gleam of Satan's iron body. Then
said Sylvestre Ker,--

"Since all is ended, retire!"

VIII.

But the demon did not stir.

"Do you think, then," he asked, "that you have brought me hither for
nothing? There is the law. You are not altogether my slave, since you
have kept your soul; but as you have freely called me, and I have come,
you are my vassal. I have a half claim over you. The little children
know that; I am astonished at your ignorance.... From midnight to three
o'clock in the morning you belong to me, in the form of an animal,
restless, roving, complaining, without help from God. This is what you
owe to your strong friend and beautiful bride. Let us settle the affair
before I depart. What animal do you wish to be,--roaring lion, bellowing
ox, bleating sheep, crowing cock? If you become a dog, you can crouch at
Matheline's feet, and Bihan