Part 28 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: He bowed his head upon his hands]

”This youth is the friend of the Devil,” he groaned. ”I cannot consent to my daughter's marriage to him. He has promised to give all his children to the Devil, they say. I cannot allow my own grandchildren to be given to the Devil.”

That very day he began to plot how to get rid of the handsome young Fernao.

Now in the bay before the city of Angra there are two rocky islands called to-day just as they were then, the Ilheos de Cabras, the islands of goats. The brother-in-law of the magistrate was the owner of these barren islands. There were a few goats there, a few mulberry bushes, and a tiny spring of fresh water. The magistrate called his brother-in-law to him as soon as the bull fight was over. He told him all his fears and asked if he might use the islands as a place of banishment for the young Flemish cavalier who was the friend of the Devil.

”You are quite welcome to use these islands for so worthy a purpose,”

replied his brother-in-law. ”Indeed, I have often thought that the deep cave on the island led into Inferno. It is a most fitting spot for the habitation of the Devil's friend.”

Thus it happened that the handsome young Flemish cavalier was seized and borne away to the barren rocky islands in the Bay of Angra. When he was received there a great earthquake shook the whole island of Terceira. When at last the people of the city of Angra were through contemplating all the destruction which had been wrought, some one looked in the direction of the island of goats. They saw that a great piece had been broken away from one of the islands.

Thus it was that the Devil received his friend.

THE MILLER'S CLOAK

_The Story of a Man Who Tried to Stay Home from Church_

There was once a pious miller. He was always to be found in the church praying. He prayed for the dead. He prayed for those who were alive.

He prayed for all who suffered, for the homeless ones, for the hungry ones. He prayed for those upon the sea and those upon the land.

Now it happened that a terrible storm smote the island. The sea beat high against the rocky coast. Lightning flashed. Thunder roared. The wind howled. The rain fell in torrents as if it were a flood.

”Don't go out in the storm to-night,” counselled his wife. ”It is not a suitable night for one to go to church.”

”I agree with you,” replied the miller. ”I do not need to go to the church in this fierce storm. Surely my prayers of other days and nights have been so many that to-night I have earned rest in my own dry house. The good G.o.d will pardon me.”

The miller wrapped his heavy brown cloak about him and lay down upon his bed. The wind shrieked. Thunder shook the earth. Unseen hands pulled the miller's cloak from off his bed.

”The wind has blown out the candle! Light another!” cried the miller to his wife.

By the dim light of the candle the good miller again arranged his bed.

He wrapped his heavy mantle about him and once more tried to sleep.

Again his cloak was pulled from off his bed as if by unseen hands.

There was no rest for the miller that night. His cloak could not be made to cover him as he lay upon his bed.

”I might as well go to church and pray,” he told his wife. ”I can't rest here.”

He wrapped himself in the brown cloak and went out to the church through the fierce blinding storm. He prayed for the dead. He prayed for those who were alive. He prayed for all who suffered, for the homeless ones, the hungry ones. He prayed for those upon the sea, for those upon the land.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He wrapped himself in the brown cloak and went out through the fierce blinding storm]

”Surely the prayers of the pious are needed this night,” said the miller to his wife when he came in out of the fierce storm.