However, the clerk, who was a cunning fellow, pulled out of his pocket a pretended bottle of ink, which in reality contained holy water, and with this he sprinkled the devil, who raised frightful shrieks, whilst the clerk took to flight, carrying the register off with him.

Then began a wild, mad race, which might last throughout the night, over the mountains, through the valleys, across the forests and the torrents.

"Give me back my register!" shouted the fiend.

"No, you sha'n't have it!" replied the clerk.

And again and again it began afresh: "Give me back my register!"-- "No, you sha'n't have it'!" And at last, finding himself out of breath, near the point of succumbing, the clerk, who had his plan, threw himself into the cemetery, which was consecrated ground, and was there able to deride the devil at his ease, waving the register which he had purloined so as to save the souls of all the unhappy people who had signed their names in it.