How vainly they, who fall into the Devil’s snare, may hope to give
him the slip at last, was made plain and evident to all men’s sight
the next morning, when the Parson and the Bailiff crept through the
priest’s garden to the Church to see how it had fared with the Doctor.
They found the great door locked, whereat Sir John was at first
mightily pleased, saying that the Gates of Hell should not prevail
against the Sanctuary of the Most High. Then he called repeatedly,
through the key-hole, telling the Doctor that all was well and that he
should open to them. But the Doctor opened not, whether absorbed in
prayer or overcome by fasting they knew not, so they were fain to send
for the smith, and he, after two hours’ labour forced open the door
with much difficulty and effort.
Then they searched the Church and, finding no trace of the Doctor, they
were forced to conclude that the Devil had carried him off after all,
even from the altar itself, whereat Sir John’s jaw drooped lamentably.
Moreover, they discovered that the foul Fiend had spirited away with
him also the fair silver pyx, which Sir Geoffrey had given to the
Church for ever, and which indeed no man hath seen since, nor the eight
pennies which were in the parish chest, nor the rich vestments used by
Sir John on Holy Days, nor the three pounds of best wax candles, which
the Churchwardens had purchased against Candlemas.
Lo, how wondrous is God’s providence, for at that very time when the
Devil carried off Doctor Montalto, he carried off also his man Martin,
so that these two and their goods vanished altogether into thin air and
could never be heard of afterwards. Whereat Mistress Dogtooth was much
vexed, inasmuch as they had not paid her reckoning. But the village
folk laughed when she complained thereof, and said the Doctor would pay
her reckoning hereafter.