“Holy Virgin!” rejoined the first speaker, “I’m all of a tremble!  And to think that many times I have got this magician Urbain to say masses for me!”

“For myself,” exclaimed a girl, crossing herself; “I too confessed to him ten months ago!  No doubt I should have been possessed myself, but for the relic of Saint-Genevieve I luckily had about me, and—­”

“Luckily, indeed, Martine,” interposed a fat gossip; “for—­no offence!—­you, as I remember, were long enough with the handsome sorcerer.”

“Pshaw!” said a young soldier, who had joined the group, smoking his pipe, “don’t you know that pretty Martine was dispossessed a month ago.”

The girl blushed, and drew the hood of her black cloak over her face.  The elder gossips cast a glance of indignation at the reckless trooper, and finding themselves now close to the door of the building, and thus sure of making their way in among the first when it should be thrown open, sat down upon the stone bench at the side, and, talking of the latest wonders, raised the expectations of all as to the delight they were about to have in being spectators of something marvellous—­an apparition, perhaps, but at the very least, an administration of the torture.

“Is it true, aunt,” asked Martine of the eldest gossip, “that you have heard the demons speak?”

“Yes, child, true as I see you; many and many can say the same; and it was to convince you of it I brought you with me here, that you may see the power of the Evil One.”

“What kind of voice has he?” continued the girl, glad to encourage a conversation which diverted from herself the invidious attention procured her by the soldier’s raillery.

“Oh, he speaks with a voice like that of the Superior herself, to whom Our Lady be gracious!  Poor young woman!  I was with her yesterday a long time; it was sad to see her tearing her breast, turning her arms and her legs first one way and then another, and then, all of a sudden, twisting them together behind her back.  When the holy Father Lactantius pronounced the name of Urbain Grandier, foam came out of her mouth, and she talked Latin for all the world as if she were reading the Bible.  Of course, I did not understand what she said, and all I can remember of it now is, ‘Urbanus Magicus rosas diabolica,’ which they tell me means that the magician Urbain had bewitched her with some roses the Devil had given him; and so it must have been, for while Father Lactantius spoke, out of her ears and neck came a quantity of flame-colored roses, all smelling of sulphur so strongly that the judge-Advocate called out for every one present to stop their noses and eyes, for that the demons were about to come out.”

“Ah, look there now!” exclaimed with shrill voices and a triumphant air the whole bevy of assembled women, turning toward the crowd, and more particularly toward a group of men attired in black, among whom was standing the young soldier who had cut his joke just before so unceremoniously.