,
which so jarred on the pastor's nerves that he several times shook the
sleeper to awake him, with the result that he slept again in no time.

At last the clock on the castle tower chimed twelve. Herr Mahok struck
the sacristan a good blow on his shoulder.

"Get up!" he said. "I did not bring you here to sleep."

The clerk rubbed his eyes, already drunk with sleep. The pastor took
his snuff-box to brighten himself up with a pinch of snuff, when
suddenly both men were roused out of all the torpor of sleep by other
means. Just as the last beat of the clock had finished striking the
unearthly mass began to be intoned in the vault below. Through the
profound silence of the night was heard the voice of the priest
singing the Latin mass, with the responses of the choir, accompanied
by some instrument that sounded like an organ, but which had a
shriller tone, and seemed to be a parody of the same.

Over the whole body of Herr Mahok crept a ghostly shiver.

"Do you hear it?" he asked the sacristan, in a whisper.

"Hear it? Who could help hearing it? Mass is saying somewhere."

"Here, under us, in the vault."

"Who can it be?"

"The devil! All good spirits praise the Lord," stammered the worthy
pastor, making the sign of the cross three times.

"But it seems that the evil spirits praise the Lord as well as the
good ones," returned the clerk.

This assertion of his was, however, quickly contradicted, for in the
middle of the next psalm a diabolical chorus struck in wildly, and the
air resounded with--

"Come, dearest, come to me,
Come, I am at home;
Two gypsies play for me.
And here I dance alone."

Then followed shrieks of laughter, in which women's shrill cackle
mingled with the hoarse roar of men and the wildest discord, as if
hell itself were let loose.

The poor priest, who had trembled at the pious psalms, nearly fell to
the ground on hearing this pandemonium. A cold sweat broke out all
over him; he knew now that the countess was right, and that this was,
in truth, the work of the evil one.

"Michael," he said, his teeth chattering with fear, "have you heard--"

"I must be stone deaf if I didn't--such an infernal din!" replied the
other. "All the spirits of hell are holding a Sabbath--"

Just then there was the tinkle of a bell. The tumult subsided, and the
voice of the celebrant was once more heard intoning mass.

"What shall we do?" asked Herr Mahok.

"What shall we do? Descen