discovery, had shown some hesitation. But the unlucky bribe of the Enemy
of Souls touched his Castilian spirit. Starting back in deep disgust,
he brandished his crucifix in the face of the unmasked Fiend, and in a
voice that made the dusky vault resound, cried,--

"Avaunt thee, Sathanas! Diabolus, I defy thee! What! wouldst thou bribe
me,--me, a brother of the Sacred Society of the Holy Jesus, Licentiate
of Cordova and Inquisitor of Guadalaxara? Thinkest thou to buy me with
thy sordid treasure? Avaunt!"

What might have been the issue of this rupture, and how complete might
have been the triumph of the Holy Father over the Arch-Fiend, who was
recoiling aghast at these sacred titles and the flourishing symbol,
we can never know, for at that moment the crucifix slipped through his
fingers.

Scarcely had it touched the ground before Devil and Holy Father
simultaneously cast themselves toward it. In the struggle they clinched,
and the pious Jose, who was as much the superior of his antagonist in
bodily as in spiritual strength, was about to treat the Great Adversary
to a back somersault, when he suddenly felt the long nails of the
stranger piercing his flesh. A new fear seized his heart, a numbing
chillness crept through his body, and he struggled to free himself, but
in vain. A strange roaring was in his ears; the lake and cavern danced
before his eyes and vanished; and with a loud cry he sank senseless to
the ground.

When he recovered his consciousness he was aware of a gentle swaying
motion of his body. He opened his eyes, and saw it was high noon, and
that he was being carried in a litter through the valley. He felt stiff,