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Updated: May 17, 2025
Now there remains only one chance for Jurgen; but luckily that chance is sure." "Why are you fumbling in your pocket?" asks the old priest of Ageus, fidgeting and peering. "Aha, you may well ask!" cried Jurgen. He unfolded the cantrap which had been given him by the Master Philologist, and which Jurgen had treasured against the time when more was needed than a glib tongue.
"And besides, the Master Philologist assures me I shall mount far higher through the aid of this." "But what is on that bit of parchment?" "Thirty-two of the Master Philologist's own words that I begged of him. See, my dear, he made this cantrap for me with his own hand and ink."
And Jurgen perceived that again he had employed his cantrap incorrectly or else that it was impotent to rescue people from Satan. "But who would have thought," he reflected, "that Grandfather Satan was such a simple old creature!" "How long, then, must I remain here?" asks Jurgen, after a dejected pause. "I do not know," replies Satan.
"Oh, but I say! that is droll. Do you just wait a moment!" cried the boy angel. His bright face vanished, with a whisking of brown curls: and Jurgen carefully re-read the cantrap of the Master Philologist. "Yes, I have found, I think, the way to use such magic," observes Jurgen. Presently the young angel re-appeared at the parapet. "I say, messire!
"Because," said Jurgen, and he drew out the cantrap of the Master Philologist, "because at the death of Adrian the Fifth, Pedro Juliani, who should be named John the Twentieth, was through an error in the reckoning elevated to the papal chair as John the Twenty-first. Do you not find my reason sufficient?" "No," said Grandfather Satan, after thinking it over, "I cannot say that I do.
Afterward Jurgen tore up the cantrap and scattered its fragments as the Master Philologist had directed. Then Jurgen turned to the boy who aided Jurgen to get into Heaven. "Come, youngster, and let us have a good look at you!" And Jurgen talked with the boy that he had once been, and stood face to face with all that Jurgen had been and was not any longer.
"But is it magic? are you certain it is authentic magic?" "I have learned that there is always magic in words." "Now, if you ask my opinion, Jurgen, your cantrap is nonsense, and can never be of any earthly use to anybody. Without boasting, dear, I have handled a great deal of black magic in my day, but I never encountered a spell at all like this."
Ah, but even now I have a plan wherewith to escape your priests: and failing that, I possess a cantrap to fall back upon in my hour of direst need. My private affairs are thus not yet in a hopeless or even in a dejected condition. This fact now urges me to observe that TEN, or the decade, is the measure of all, since it contains all the numeric relations and harmonies "
And Jurgen perceived that either he had not employed his cantrap correctly or else that its magic was unappreciated by the leaders of Philistia. Farewell to Chloris Now the Philistines led out their prisoners, and made ready to inflict the doom which was decreed. And they permitted the young King of Eubonia to speak with Chloris. "Farewell to you now, Jurgen!" says Chloris, weeping softly.
Crowning the black brows were two tall white horns; tipping the black fingers were long white talons; terminating the black feet were cloven white hoofs. Crimson glass goggles over the eyes gave the look of burning coals; and by some "devilish cantrap strange," some trick in chemistry, at least, little jets of flame appeared to issue from the mouth and nostrils of the mask. "Heaven save us!
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