The Unbidden Guest

In a little lane leading from the town of Clitheroe there once lived a
noted 'cunning man,' to whom all sorts of applications were made, not
only by the residents, but also by people from distant places, for the
fame of the wizard had spread over the whole country side. If a theft
was committed, at once the services of 'Owd Jeremy' were enlisted,
and, as a result, some one entirely innocent was, if not accused, at
least suspected; while maidens and young men, anxious to pry into
futurity, and behold the faces of their unknown admirers, paid him
trifling fees to enable them to gratify their curiosity. In short,
Jeremy professed to be an able student of the Black Art, on familiar
speaking terms with Satan, and duly qualified to foretell men's
destinies by the aid of the stars.

The cottage in which the old man resided was of a mean order, and its
outward appearance was by no means likely to impress visitors with an
idea that great pecuniary advantages had followed that personal
acquaintance with the Evil One of which the wizard boasted. If,
however, the outside was mean and shabby, the inside of the dwelling
was of a nature better calculated to inspire inquirers with feelings
of awe, hung round, as the one chamber was, with faded and moth-eaten
black cloth, upon which grotesque astrological designs and the figure
of a huge dragon were worked in flaming red. The window being hidden
by the dingy tapestry, the only light in the room came from a
starved-looking candle, which was fixed in the foot of the skeleton of
a child, attached to a string from the ceiling, and dangling just over
the table, where a ponderous volume lay open before a large crystal
globe and two skulls.

In an old-fashioned chair, above which hung suspended a dirty and
dilapidated crocodile, the wizard sat, and gave audience to the stray
visitors whose desire to peer into futurity overmastered the fear with
which the lonely cottage was regarded. A quaint-looking old man was
Jeremy, with his hungry-looking eyes and long white beard; and, as
with bony fingers he turned over the leaves of the large book, there
was much in his appearance likely to give the superstitious and
ignorant customers overwhelming ideas of his wondrous wisdom. The
'make up' was creditable to Jeremy, for though he succeeded in
deceiving others with his assumption of supernatural knowledge, he
himself did not believe in those powers whose aid he so frequently
professed to invoke on behalf of his clients.

One day, when the ragged cloth had fallen behind a victim who was
departing from the wizard's sanctum with a few vague and mysterious
hints in exchange for solid coin, the old man, after laughing
sarcastically, pulled aside the dingy curtains and stepped to the
casement, through which the glorious sunlight was streaming. The scene
upon which the wizard looked was a very beautiful one; and the old man
leaned his head upon his hands and gazed intently upon the landscape.

''Tis a bonnie world,' said he,--''tis a bonnie world, and there are
few views in it to compare with this one for beauty. My soul is drawn
toward old Pendle, yon, with a love passing that of woman, heartless
and passionless though the huge mass be. Heartless!' said he, after a
pause,--'heartless! when every minute there is a fresh expression upon
its beautiful front? Ay, even so, for it looms yonder calm and
unconcerned when we are ushered into the world, and when we are
ushered out of it, and laid to moulder away under the mountain's
shadow; and it will rear its bold bluffs to heaven and smile in the
sunlight or frown in the gloom after we who now love to gaze upon it
are blind to the solemn loveliness of its impassable face. Poor
perishable fools are we, with less power than the breeze which ruffles
yon purple heather!'

With a heavy sigh Jeremy turned away from the window, and as the
curtain fell behind him, and he stood again in the wretchedly-lighted
room, he saw that he was not alone. The chair in which the trembling
hinds generally were asked to seat themselves held a strange-looking
visitor of dark and forbidding aspect.

'Jeremiah,' said this personage, 'devildom first and poetising
afterwards.'

There was an unpleasant tone of banter in this speech, which did not
seem in keeping with the character of one who fain would pry into
futurity; and as the wizard took his usual position beneath the
crocodile, he looked somewhat less oracular than was his wont when in
front of a shivering and terrified inquirer.

'What wantest thou with me?' said he, with an ill-assumed appearance
of unconcern.

The occupant of the chair smiled sardonically as he replied--

'A little security--that's all. For five-and-twenty years thou hast
been amassing wealth by duping credulous fools, and it is time I had
my percentage.'

The wizard stared in astonishment. Was the stranger a thief, or worse?
he wondered, but after a time, however, he said, drily--

'Even if thou hadst proved thy right to a portion of the profits of my
honest calling--and thou hast not--thou wouldst not require a
packhorse to carry thy share away. Doth this hovel resemble the abode
of a possessor of great wealth? Two chairs, a table, and a few old
bones, its furniture; and its tenant a half-starved old man, who has
had hard work to support life upon the pittance he receives in return
for priceless words of wisdom! Thou art a stranger to me, and thy
portion of my earnings is correctly represented by a circle.'

A loud and unmusical laugh followed the wizard's words; and before the
unpleasant sound had died away the visitor remarked--

'If I am yet a stranger to thee, Jeremiah, 'tis not thy fault, for
during the last quarter of a century thou hast boasted of me as thy
willing servant, and extorted hard cash from thy customers upon the
strength of my friendship and willingness to help thee; and now, true
to thy beggarly instincts, thou wouldst deny me! But 'twill be in
vain, Jeremiah--'twill be in vain! I have postponed this visit too
long already to be put off with subterfuges now.'

'I repeat, I know thee not,' said the wizard, in a trembling voice.
And, hurriedly rising from his chair, he flung aside the thick
curtain, in order that the light of day might stream into the chamber,
for a nameless fear had taken possession of him, and he did not care
to remain in the darkened apartment with his suspicious visitor. To
his surprise and terror, however, darkness had fallen upon the scene,
and, as he gazed in alarm at the little diamond-framed window,
through which so short a time before he had looked upon a fair
prospect of meadow and mountain, a vivid flash of lightning darted
across the heavens, and a clap of thunder burst over the cottage.

''Twill spoil good men's harvests, Jeremiah,' the stranger calmly
said; 'but it need not interrupt our interesting conversation.'

Angry at the bantering manner in which the visitor spoke, the wizard
flung open the door, and cried--

'Depart from my dwelling, ere I cast thee forth into the mire!'

'Surely thou wouldst not have the heart to fulfil thy threat,' said
the stranger, 'although 'tis true I have but one shoe to be soiled by
the mud.' And as he spoke he quietly crossed his legs, and Jeremiah
perceived a hideous cloven foot.

With a groan, the wizard sank into his chair, and, deaf to the roaring
of the thunder, and to the beating of the rain through the doorway, he
sat helplessly gazing at his guest, whose metallic laughter rang
through the room.

'Hast thou at length recognised me, Jeremiah?' asked the Evil One,
after an interval, during which he had somewhat prominently displayed
the hoof, and gloated over the agony its exhibition had caused his
victim.

The old man was almost too terrified to answer, but at last he
whispered--

'I have.'

'And thou no longer wilt refuse me the security?' hissed the
tormentor, as he placed a parchment upon the table.

'What security dost thou demand?' feebly inquired the quaking wizard.

'Personal only,' said Satan. 'Put thy name to this,' and he pointed to
the bond.

Jeremy pushed his chair as far from the suspicious-looking document as
he could ere he replied--

'Thou shalt not have name of mine.'

He had expected that an outburst of fiendish wrath would follow this
speech, but to his surprise the guest simply remarked--

'Very well, Jeremiah. By to-morrow night, however, thou shalt be
exposed as the base and ignorant pretender thou art. Thou hast
trespassed upon the rightful trade of my faithful servants long
enough, and 'tis time I stopped thy prosperous career. Ere sunset
thou shalt have a rival, who will take the bread from thy ungrateful
mouth.'

After this polite speech the visitor picked up the parchment, and
began to fold it in a methodical manner.

Such utterly unexpected gentlemanly behaviour somewhat reassured
Jeremiah, and in a fainter voice he humbly asked what his visitor had
to give in exchange for a wizard's autograph.

'Twenty-two years of such success as thou hast not even dared to dream
of! No opposition--no exposure to thy miserable dupes,' readily
answered Satan.

Jeremiah considered deeply. The offer undoubtedly was a tempting one,
for after all, his profession had not been very lucrative, and to lose
his customers, therefore, meant starvation. He was certain that if
another wizard opened an establishment the people would flock to him,
even through mere curiosity; but he knew what signing the bond
included, and he was afraid to take the step.

After a long delay, during which Satan carefully removed a sharp
stone from his hoof, Jeremiah therefore firmly said--

'Master, I'll not sign!'

Without more ado the visitor departed, and almost before he was out of
sight the storm abated, and old Pendle again became visible.

A few days passed, and no one came to the dwelling of the wizard; and
as such an absence of customers was very unusual, Jeremy began to fear
that the supernatural stranger had not forgotten his threat. On the
evening of the fifth day he crept into the little town to purchase
some articles of food. Previously, whenever he had had occasion to
make a similar journey, as he passed along the street the children ran
away in terror, and the older people addressed him with remarkable
humility; but this time, as he stepped rapidly past the houses, the
youngsters went on with their games as though only an ordinary mortal
went by, and a burly fellow who was leaning against a door jamb took
his pipe from his mouth to cry familiarly--

'Well, Jerry, owd lad, heaw are ta'?'

These marks of waning power and fading popularity were sufficiently
unmistakable; but as he was making his few purchases he was informed
that a stranger, who seemed to be possessed of miraculous powers, had
arrived in the town, and that many people who had been to him were
going about testifying to his wonderful skill. With a heavy heart the
wizard returned to his cottage. Next night a shower of stones dashed
his window to pieces, and, as he peered into the moonlight lane, he
saw a number of rough fellows, who evidently were waiting and watching
in hopes that he would emerge from his dwelling. These were the only
visitors he had during an entire week; and at length, quite prepared
to capitulate, he said to himself--

'I wish I had another chance.'

No sooner had he uttered the words, than there was a sudden burst of
thunder, wind roared round the house, again the clients' chair was
occupied, and the parchment lay upon the table just as though it had
not been disturbed.

'Art thou ready to sign?' asked Satan.

'Ay!' answered the old man.

The Evil One immediately seized the wizard's hand, upon which Jeremy
gave a piercing yell, as well he might do, for the Satanic grip had
forced the blood from the tips of his fingers.

'Sign!' said the Devil.

'I can't write,' said the wizard.

The Evil One forthwith took hold of one of the victim's fingers, and
using it as a pen, wrote in a peculiarly neat hand 'Jeremiah Parsons,
his × mark,' finishing with a fiendish flourish.

After doing this he again vacated the chair and the room as
mysteriously as on the previous occasion.

The autograph-loving visitor had barely departed with the parchment
ere a knock at the door was heard, and in stepped a man who wished to
have the veil lifted, and who brought the pleasing news that,
influenced by the reports of the opposition wizard, he had been to his
house in Clitheroe, but had found it empty, the whilom tenant having
fled no one knew whither. From that time things looked up with Jeremy,
and money poured into the skulls, for people crowded from far and near
to test his skill. For two-and-twenty years he flourished and was
famous, but the end came.{2} One morning, after a wild night when the
winds howled round Pendle, and it seemed as though all the powers of
darkness were let loose, some labourers who were going to their work
were surprised to find only the ruins of the wizard's cottage. The
place had been consumed by fire; and although search was made for the
magician's remains, only a few charred bones were found, and these,
some averred, were not those of old Jeremy, but were relics of the
dusty old skeleton and the dirty crocodile under the shadow of which
the wizard used to sit.