ight bury the whole
town with all its prelates and abbots under such a hill. With a mighty
pull he tore one of the dunes from the shore, piled it on his
shoulders, and flew rapidly towards the doomed city. But the way was
much longer than Master Satan had thought. He began to perspire very
freely under his unwonted burden, and when from time to time the wind
blew a rain of loose sand into his eyes, he swore most horribly.

In the valley of the Soers not far from Aix-la-Chapelle he was obliged
to rest, as he was very tired after his exertions.

While he was thus sitting by the wayside wiping his forehead and
looking hot and weary, an old wrinkled woman came limping along, who
looked with suspicion at the man and his strange burden.

She wanted to pass by without saying a word, but the stranger stopped
her and said: "How far is it from here to Aix-la-Chapelle?" The woman
cast a sharp look at the speaker.

As she had reached years of discretion, being now in her
seventy-second year, she was shrewd enough to recognise in the man
before her the very devil in person. She was also quite sure, that he
must have some wicked plan in his head against the good town,
Aix-la-Chapelle.

Therefore assuming a very sad expression she answered in a complaining
voice: "Kind sir, I am so sorry for you, the way to the town is still
very long. Only look at my boots, they are quite worn from the long
way, and yet I got them new from the shoemaker at Aix-la-Chapelle."

Master Satan uttered something that sounded like a bitter curse. Then
he shook off the sandy dune from his shoulders and flew away in a
fury.

The old woman was for a moment terror-stricken, but when she saw the
fatal figure of the stranger disappearing, she was inexpressibly glad
at having saved the town and outwitted the devil himself.

If he had only looked a little more carefully he could have seen the
tower of the new minster not a mile off.

The sandy dune is still lying in the very same place where the devil
dropped it. Its name is "Losberg" or "Ridmountain," so called because
the town Aix-la-Chapelle got rid of a great danger.

The memory of the poor wolf is also still preserved. Its image is
engraved on the middle of the minster door, where you can also see the
big cracks produced by the devil's hammering it in his impotent anger.

The Ring of Fastrada

This story too leads us back to the time of the great Emperor Charles,
whose life has come down