the addition of his own, would make a very picturesque group; the beautiful Cephalis, “arrayed in her bridal apparel of white;” her friend Caprioletta officiating as bridemaid; Mr Cranium giving her away; and, last, not least, the Reverend Doctor Gaster, intoning the marriage ceremony with the regular orthodox allowance of nasal recitative.  Whilst he was feasting his eyes on this imaginary picture, the demon of mistrust insinuated himself into the storehouse of his conceptions, and, removing his figure from the group, substituted that of Mr Panscope, which gave such a violent shock to his feelings, that he suddenly exclaimed, with an extraordinary elevation of voice, Oimoi kakodaimon, kai tris kakodaimon, kai tetrakis, kai pentakis, kai dodekakis, kai muriakis![9.1] to the great terror of the sexton, who was just entering the churchyard, and, not knowing from whence the voice proceeded, pensa que fut un diableteau.  The sight of the philosopher dispelled his apprehensions, when, growing suddenly valiant, he immediately addressed him:—­

“Cot pless your honour, I should n’t have thought of meeting any pody here at this time of the morning, except, look you, it was the tevil—­who, to pe sure, toes not often come upon consecrated cround—­put for all that, I think I have seen him now and then, in former tays, when old Nanny Llwyd of Llyn-isa was living—­Cot teliver us! a terriple old witch to pe sure she was—­I tid n’t much like tigging her crave—­put I prought two cocks with me—­the tevil hates cocks—­and tied them py the leg on two tombstones—­and I tug, and the cocks crowed, and the tevil kept at a tistance.  To pe sure now, if I had n’t peen very prave py nature—­as I ought to pe truly—­for my father was Owen Ap-Llwyd Ap-Gryffydd Ap-Shenkin Ap-Williams Ap-Thomas Ap-Morgan Ap-Parry Ap-Evan Ap-Rhys, a coot preacher and a lover of cwrw[9.2]—­I should have thought just now pefore I saw your honour, that the foice I heard was the tevil’s calling Nanny Llwyd—­Cot pless us! to pe sure she should have been puried in the middle of the river, where the tevil can’t come, as your honour fery well knows.”

“I am perfectly aware of it,” said Mr Escot.

“True, true,” continued the sexton; “put to pe sure, Owen Thomas of Morfa-Bach will have it that one summer evening—­when he went over to Cwm Cynfael in Meirionnydd, apout some cattles he wanted to puy—­he saw a strange figure—­pless us!—­with five horns!—­Cot save us! sitting on Hugh Llwyd’s pulpit, which, your honour fery well knows, is a pig rock in the middle of the river——­”

“Of course he was mistaken,” said Mr Escot.

“To pe sure he was,” said the sexton.  “For there is no toubt put the tevil, when Owen Thomas saw him, must have peen sitting on a piece of rock in a straight line from him on the other side of the river, where he used to sit, look you, for a whole summer’s tay, while Hugh Llwyd was on his pulpit, and there they used to talk across the water! for Hugh Llwyd, please your honour, never raised the tevil except when he was safe in the middle of the river, which proves that Owen Thomas, in his fright, did n’t pay proper attention to the exact spot where the tevil was.”