"You"
"Yes, me," replied the goblin, "and your other friends."
"Against what!" inquired Zadoc.
"Fire. It's very warm where we live," replied he; "and I've leave of absence till cock-crow. We thought if we could get insured during the night, we would snap our fingers when I go back. We don't mind money, and it would be a praiseworthy act on your part to out-wit Old Scratch. It tells greatly in a man's favor to annoy the old gentleman, and that would, I can assure you. I know him well."
Here was a dilemma, and Zadoc felt that his present position required adroit management.
"You don't mean to say," said he, evasively, "that all those very respectable people—very respectable people—have gone to the dev———"
"Whist!" said the goblin, "do n't be uncivil, Sir. Wherever they are, I mean to say that the climate doesn't agree with them—being rather too tropical. I mean, too, that they want to be insured against fire. Do I make myself understood?"
There was something too positive to permit of farther equivocation. Zadoc muttered something about his being unable to insure out of the county without consulting the stockholders, and that he feared the risk was "extra hazardous."
The goblin's eyes fairly glowed with fury as he said, "Refuse, if you dare! You are mine till cock-crow! Will you insure?"
Zadoc closed his eyes, and muttered a prayer. The idea of getting the ill-will of the "Old Boy" by interfering between him and his property was not to be thought of for an instant, and he shook his head.
"Ha!" exclaimed the goblin, gnashing his teeth, "then here's at you!"
"And here's at thee!" exclaimed a voice behind him. "Ghost or devil, take that!" At the same time, a heavy cudgel was flourished in the air; it descended on what appeared to be the very head of the goblin, and cleaving through head and body, rang hard against the ground. There was a bright flash, a puff of sulphurous smoke, a loud
