It was a very stirring tale about a girl who was carried off by bandits, and was followed through a thunderous and stormy night by her lover, who rescued her and drove off the captors, killing several of them in a brave fight, but in his turn receiving wounds of which he died just as the morning sun was brightening the world with hope and happiness. It was moving and fine, and he read it well and was entitled to praise, and got it in full measure from both Marget and Satan.

Next, Marget proposed that Wilhelm and Philip vary the entertainment with a game of chess, and she would look on. I knew what her idea was. She was proud of Wilhelm's poetical success and of the praise it had won from Philip, and she wanted to show off Wilhelm still further and raise him still higher in the stranger's esteem; for Wilhelm was champion at chess in all that region and accustomed to giving the odds of a castle to the next best man. But it was my opinion that she was making a mistake this time; she would better try to show off Wilhelm in some other way, it seemed to me.

Satan said he was ready to play, and glad. Then he added, in his frank and confident way, that he was a good player, and so, to be fair, he would play against both of them if they were willing. It amused Wilhelm, who said –

»I see you don't know my reputation; but let it be as you say.«

At the associated pair's ninth move, Satan said –

»There, the game is mine: checkmate in nineteen moves. Let us play another.«

He was going to re-set the pieces; but Wilhelm stopped him, and said –

»Ah, wait. We will see about that. You will probably change your opinion before many minutes. I'm not in the habit of surrendering to remote possibilities.«

»But this isn't a remote possibility, it is a certainty.«

»I don't see how you can know that. And I don't begin to believe it. Let us continue.«

»Very well. It is your privilege – but it wastes time.«

He moved. The couple made an answering move, and Satan said –

»You are worse off, now: checkmate in fourteen moves.«

Wilhelm was annoyed, but he said nothing; only bit his lip. Satan moved; the couple studied a painful while; considered and discussed various moves, then made one. Satan said –

»Checkmate in eleven moves« – and moved queen's castle.

Wilhelm flushed, but held his peace. After cautious deliberation the couple decided upon a move and made it.

»Checkmate in seven moves,« said Satan, advancing his queen.

Wilhelm was sorely tried, but he kept his temper. Kept it, but continued the game, and was finally checkmated, of course.

»It is a defeat,« he said, »and I confess it. I believe you are stronger than I am.« Then he added, »particularly in guessing.«

Guessing those checkmates so far ahead was what he meant; but Satan made no comment. Wilhelm asked the odds of a knight, and they played again. Wilhelm lost. Then he took the odds of both knights and was again defeated. His temper almost got the better of him, now. He said, ironically, that perhaps Philip could even give his queen away and beat him. But Satan said –

»Yes. Let us begin.«

Of course he beat him. I think he could have beaten him with a pawn. Wilhelm was so vexed, by this time, that Marget cast about for a change of subject, to save the situation. She chose music, and it was a good selection.