“CAN you not show me,” said the Student, as they flew swiftly through the upper air over Madrid, he clinging tightly to the Devil’s skirts, “can you not show me other sights equally entertaining before we finish our journey?”

“Readily,” replied Asmodeus, “for I have the power of showing you every heart and thought in Madrid, and of unroofing every house if it be my pleasure, and I am determined to repay you in whatever way you choose for the service you have done me. First, then, cast your eyes down at the very well-dressed gentleman whom you see in that open taxi-cab, enjoying as he whirls along the warm air of a night in the season. He is a wealthy man in charge of one of the great departments of State; nay, I can tell you which one, for the mines in Peru are his special department.”

“Doubtless,” said the Student, “he is at this moment considering some weighty matter in connection with his duties.”

“No,” said the Devil; “you must guess again.”

“Why, then, since you have shown me so many diverting weaknesses in men I must believe that he is plotting for the advancement of some favourite.”“Yet again you are wrong,” said the Devil. “His whole mind is occupied in watching the sums marked by the taximeter, which he constantly consults by the aid of a match; only last Wednesday, the Feast of St. Theresa, he was overcharged a matter of a quarter of a real by one of these machines, and he is determined this shall not happen again. You perceive the great house which he is now passing. It is lit up at every window, and the sounds of music are proceeding from it.”

“I not only see it,” said the Student, “but have seen this sort of sight so often during the season in Madrid that I am certain you will not find anything here to surprise me.”

“No,” said the Devil, “I was perhaps wrong in attempting to amuse you by so commonplace a spectacle as that of a moneylender entertaining very nearly all those in Madrid with whom he has had no dealings, and even some of those who are in his power; that is, if, on account of their nobility or from some other cause, it is worth his while to have them seen in his rooms. But what I would particularly point out to you is, not this kind of feast which (as you say) you have seen a thousand times, but the old man who is mumbling strange prayers over a dish of food in that common servants’ room which you may perceive to lie half above the ground and half beneath it next to the kitchen. He is the father of the wealthy gentleman who is entertaining the guests upstairs.”“It is evident,” said the Student, “that he has no liking for High Life.”

“No,” said Asmodeus, “and in this eccentricity he is supported with true filial sympathy by his son.”

“I perceive,” said the Student, “a man tossing uneasily in his sleep, and from time to time crying out as one does to a horse when it is restive, or rather as men cry to horses which they can hardly control.”

“I am well acquainted with him,” said the Devil. “He is one of my most earnest clients, but in nothing does he divert me more than in these nightmares of his wherein he cries ‘Whoa there! Steady, old girl!’ And again, ‘Now then! Now then!’ not omitting from time to time, ‘You damned brute!’ and a cuff upon his pillow.”

“To what, my dear Asmodeus, do we owe this diversion?” asked the Student wonderingly. “He seems to be a wealthy man, if we may judge by the house in which we see him and the furniture of the room in which he so painfully sleeps. And surely there is nothing upon his mind?”

“You are wrong,” said the Devil; “there is upon his mind a most weighty matter, for he considers it a necessity in his position to ride every morning along the soft road especially prepared for that exercise upon the banks of the Manzanares, where he may meet the wealth and fashion of Madrid occupied in the same pastime. But unfortunately for him he is wholly devoid of the art of equitation and stands in as much terror of his mount as does a lady of her dressmaker. For one hour, therefore, of every day, he suffers such tortures that I greatly fear we shall not be able to add to them appreciably in my dominions when the proper time arrives. But let us leave these wealthy people, whose foibles are, after all, much the same, and turn to the poorer quarters which lie south of the King’s Royal Palace.”

In a few moments they had reached these and were examining a mean house not far from the Church of St. Alphonso, in a bare upper room of which a woman with a starved and anxious expression was writing, late as was the hour, at top speed.

“Poor woman!” said the Student. “I perceive that she is one of those unhappy people whom grinding poverty compels to produce ephemeral literature which is afterwards printed and sold at one real for the divertisement of the populace of Madrid. I know of no trade more pitiful, and I can assure you the sight of her industry moves me to the bottom of my heart.”

“The sight is indeed pitiful,” said the Devil, “to those at least who permit themselves the luxury of pity—a habit which I confess I have long ago abandoned. For you must know that in the company of Belphegor, Ashtaroth, and the rest even the softest-hearted of devils will grow callous. But more interesting to you perhaps than the sad necessities of her trade is the matter which she is at present engaged upon.”

“What is that?” said the Student.

“Why,” said Asmodeus, “she is writing ‘Nellie’s Notes’ for a paper called The Spanish Noblewoman, and she is at this very moment setting down her opinion that there is no better way to pass a rainy afternoon than taking out and cleaning one’s Indian Bracelets, Ropes of Pearls, Diamonds, and other gems. She is good enough to add that she herself thinks it wise and a good discipline to clean her own jewellery and not leave it to a maid.”

“In the room below you will see a young man whom I very much regret to say is in a state of complete intoxication.”

“I do not know,” said the Student, “why you should regret such a sight, for I had imagined that all human frailty was a matter of pleasure to your highnesses.”

“Yes,” replied Asmodeus, “in the general it is so, but you must know that this particular vice is so inimical to the province which I control that I regard it with peculiar detestation, and I am not upon so much as speaking terms with Shamarel, who has been deputed by the Council to look after those who exceed in wine.”

“Is not that the same,” asked the Student, “whom they say twice appeared to a hermit at Carinena?”

“You are right,” said Asmodeus, betraying a slight annoyance, “but pray do not put it about that a personage of such importance was at the pains of appearing to a common hermit. The fact is, he was at that moment visiting the Campo Romano to assure himself that the vines were in good condition, and it was by the merest accident that the hermit caught sight of him during this journey, for you must know that he makes it a punctilio never to appear in person to one under the rank of Archbishop, and even then he prefers that the recipient of the favour should be a Cardinal into the bargain, and if possible a Grandee of Spain.”

“You have told me so much about your amiable colleague,” said the Student, “that you have forgotten to tell me whether any moral divertisement attached to the poor young fellow whom we see in that offensive stupor.”

“No,” said the Devil, “now I come to think of it, there is perhaps nothing remarkable in his condition, unless you think it worthy of notice that he is a medical student and will shortly be entrusted with the nerves and veins of the poor in the public hospitals of Madrid. It is to be hoped that he will soon put behind him these youthful follies, for if he persists in them they will make his hand tremble, and in that case he will never be permitted to practise the art of surgery upon the persons of the wealthy and more remunerative classes.”

“Outside the house,” said the Student, “I see a policeman walking with some solemnity, and I confess that the sight is pleasing to me, for it gives me a feeling that the good people of Madrid are well looked after when so expensive an instrument of the law is spared for so poor a quarter.”

“You are right,” said Asmodeus, “and were I now to show you the inner heart of the Duke of Medina y BarÒ who controls the police forces of Madrid, you would find that his chief anxiety in the distribution of his men came from the dilemma in which he perpetually finds himself, whether to furnish them rather in large numbers to the wealthier quarters for the defence of which policemen exist, or for the poorer quarters, the terrorising of which is necessarily their function.”

“At any rate,” said the Student, “he need not bother himself about the houses of that large number of people (and I am one) from whom there is nothing to steal and who yet have never learnt any of the arts of theft. In a word, he is spared the trouble either of protecting or of keeping down what are called the middle classes.”

“True,” said Asmodeus, “but most unfortunately this kind of person does not herd together in special districts. If they did so it would be a great relief to the strain upon the Police Department; but they are scattered more or less evenly throughout the wealthier and the poorer quarters.”

“Can you tell me,” asked the Student, “whether it is worth our while to watch the policeman for a few moments in the exercise of his duties and whether he would provide us with any entertainment as we watched him unseen?”

“Alas!” answered the Devil sadly, “I have no power to forecast the future; but from my knowledge of the past I can tell you that during the ten years since he has joined the force this officer has not once arrested a rich man in error on a dark night, nor perjured himself before a Magistrate so openly as to be detected, nor done any of those things which legitimately amuse us in people of his kind.”

“But do you not think,” said the Student, “that we might by remaining here see him help an old woman across the road amid the plaudits of the governing classes, or take a little child that is lost by the hand and lead it to its mother’s home?”

“Doubtless,” said the Devil, yawning, “we should find him up to tricks of that sort were we willing to wait here, floating in the air, for another ten or dozen hours, when the streets will be full of people. But the play-acting to which you so feelingly allude is but rarely indulged in by these gallant men when onlookers are wanting. Come, the sky is already pale in the direction of the eastern mountains; it will soon be day, and I desire before you are completely tired out to show you one more sight.”

With these words Asmodeus took the Student by the hand and darted with inconceivable rapidity over the roofs of the city until he came to a particular spot which he had evidently marked in his flight.

“Cast your eyes,” he said, “upon this narrow but busy thoroughfare beneath us. It is the only street in Madrid which at so late an hour is still full of people and of business. It is called Fleet Street.”

“I have heard of it,” said the Student.

“No doubt,” said the Devil; “but what I particularly desire to point out to you is a man whom you will see in his shirt-sleeves, seated upon a swivel-chair and writing away for dear life, matter which will appear to-morrow in the Morning Post.”

“Well,” said the Student, “what of that?”

“Can you guess what he is writing?” asked Asmodeus.

“That I am quite unable to do,” said the Student.

“It is,” said the Devil, “a series of satirical remarks upon the frailties and follies of others—and yet he is a journalist!”