Wilhelm Meidling asked him some questions, then called us boys, and we told our tale.  It made the people laugh, and we were ashamed.  We were feeling pretty badly, anyhow, because Wilhelm was hopeless, and showed it.  He was doing as well as he could, poor young fellow, but nothing was in his favor, and such sympathy as there was was now plainly not with his client.  It might be difficult for court and people to believe the astrologer’s story, considering his character, but it was almost impossible to believe Father Peter’s.  We were already feeling badly enough, but when the astrologer’s lawyer said he believed he would not ask us any questions—­for our story was a little delicate and it would be cruel for him to put any strain upon it—­everybody tittered, and it was almost more than we could bear.  Then he made a sarcastic little speech, and got so much fun out of our tale, and it seemed so ridiculous and childish and every way impossible and foolish, that it made everybody laugh till the tears came; and at last Marget could not keep up her courage any longer, but broke down and cried, and I was so sorry for her.

Now I noticed something that braced me up.  It was Satan standing alongside of Wilhelm!  And there was such a contrast!—­Satan looked so confident, had such a spirit in his eyes and face, and Wilhelm looked so depressed and despondent.  We two were comfortable now, and judged that he would testify and persuade the bench and the people that black was white and white black, or any other color he wanted it.  We glanced around to see what the strangers in the house thought of him, for he was beautiful, you know—­stunning, in fact—­but no one was noticing him; so we knew by that that he was invisible.

The lawyer was saying his last words; and while he was saying them Satan began to melt into Wilhelm.  He melted into him and disappeared; and then there was a change, when his spirit began to look out of Wilhelm’s eyes.

That lawyer finished quite seriously, and with dignity.  He pointed to the money, and said: 

“The love of it is the root of all evil.  There it lies, the ancient tempter, newly red with the shame of its latest victory—­the dishonor of a priest of God and his two poor juvenile helpers in crime.  If it could but speak, let us hope that it would be constrained to confess that of all its conquests this was the basest and the most pathetic.”

He sat down.  Wilhelm rose and said: 

“From the testimony of the accuser I gather that he found this money in a road more than two years ago.  Correct me, sir, if I misunderstood you.”

The astrologer said his understanding of it was correct.

“And the money so found was never out of his hands thenceforth up to a certain definite date—­the last day of last year.  Correct me, sir, if I am wrong.”

The astrologer nodded his head.  Wilhelm turned to the bench and said: