d into the vault and exorcise the evil
spirits."

"What!" cried the priest. "Alone?"

"Alone!" repeated Michael, with religious fervor. "Are we alone when
we come in the name of the Lord of armies? Besides, we are two. If I
were a priest, and if I were invested with the stole, had I the right
to wear the three-cornered hat, I should go into the vault, carrying
the holy water, and with the words, 'Apage Satanas,' I would drive
before me all the legions of hell itself."

The excellent pastor felt ashamed that his ignorant sacristan should
possess greater faith, and show more courage in this combat with the
powers of darkness, than himself; still, fear predominated over his
shame.

"I would willingly face these demons," he said, in a somewhat
hesitating manner, "were it not that the gout has suddenly seized my
right foot. I am not able to walk."

"But consider what a scandal it will be if we, who have heard the
spirits, have not pluck enough to send them packing."

"But my foot, Michael; I cannot move my foot."

"Well, then, I will carry you on my back. You can hold the holy water
and I will take the lantern."

There was no way out of this friendly offer. The pastor commended his
soul to God, and, taking heart, resolved to fight the demons below,
armed only with the holy insignia of his office. The good man,
however, did not mount, like Anchises on the back of AEneas, without
much inward misgiving.

"You will be careful, Michael; you will not let me fall?" he said, in
a somewhat quavering voice.

"Don't be afraid, pastor," returned the sacristan, as he stooped and
raised the pastor on his shoulders. "Now, forward!" he cried, taking
the lantern in his hands, while Herr Mahok carried the vessels
necessary for the exorcism.

A cold blast of air saluted them as they issued from the greenhouse
and crossed the large hall of the castle, which the glimmering light
from the small lantern only faintly illumined. Half of it remained in
darkness; but on the side of the wall where hung the portraits of the
armed knights an occasional gleam showed Herr Mahok the faces of the
countess's warlike ancestors, who had done in their day good service
against the Turks. They looked at him, he thought, somewhat
contemptuously, and seemed to say, "What sort of man is this, who goes
to fight pickaback?"

Michael stopped before a strong iron door in the centre of the hall.
This was the entrance to the subterranean vaults and cellars