One of those who had accompanied the bailiff was a Scotchman called Stracan, the head of the Reformed College of Loudun.  Hearing this answer, he called on the demon to translate aqua into Gaelic, saying if he gave this proof of having those linguistic attainments which all bad spirits possess, he and those with him would be convinced that the possession was genuine and no deception.  Barre, without being in the least taken aback, replied that he would make the demon say it if God permitted, and ordered the spirit to answer in Gaelic.  But though he repeated his command twice, it was not obeyed; on the third repetition the superior said—­

“Nimia curiositas” (Too much curiosity), and on being asked again, said—­

“Deus non volo.”

This time the poor devil went astray in his conjugation, and confusing the first with the third person, said, “God, I do not wish,” which in the context had no meaning.  “God does not wish,” being the appointed answer.

The Scotchman laughed heartily at this nonsense, and proposed to Barre to let his devil enter into competition with the boys of his seventh form; but Barre, instead of frankly accepting the challenge in the devil’s name, hemmed and hawed, and opined that the devil was justified in not satisfying idle curiosity.

“But, sir, you must be aware,” said the civil lieutenant, “and if you are not, the manual you hold in your hand will teach you, that the gift of tongues is one of the unfailing symptoms of true possession, and the power to tell what is happening at a distance another.”

“Sir,” returned Barre, “the devil knows the language very well, but, does not wish to speak it; he also knows all your sins, in proof of which, if you so desire, I shall order him to give the list.”

“I shall be delighted to hear it,” said the civil lieutenant; “be so good as to try the experiment.”

Barre was about to approach the superior, when he was held back by the bailiff, who remonstrated with him on the impropriety of his conduct, whereupon Barre assured the magistrate that he had never really intended to do as he threatened.

However, in spite of all Barre’s attempts to distract the attention of the bystanders from the subject, they still persisted in desiring to discover the extent of the devil’s knowledge of foreign languages, and at their suggestion the bailiff proposed to Barre to try him in Hebrew instead of Gaelic.  Hebrew being, according to Scripture, the most ancient language of all, ought to be familiar to the demon, unless indeed he had forgotten it.  This idea met with such general applause that Barre was forced to command the possessed nun to say aqua in Hebrew.  The poor woman, who found it difficult enough to repeat correctly the few Latin words she had learned by rote, made an impatient movement, and said—­

“I can’t help it; I retract” (Je renie).