"They must be driven out by force," replied the archbishop of Riga, "and the power to do this was given to bishops from above."
"A wisp of hay should be steeped in holy water," added the canon, "with which the steps of the dark passage should be sprinkled."
One of the deans advised that "the little chest with the Egyptian hieroglyphics, which was kept as a relic in the convent of St. Bridget, should be taken to the cavern.".
The other dean was of opinion that the spirits should be allowed to continue without molestation so long as they only wandered and breathed.
The archbishop of Revel was also of the same sentiment, but the Abbot of Pardis applauded this idea of the Egyptian hieroglyphics.
Last of all, the old General proposed that they should immediately ride to the beach, and employ the arms of the church against the inhabitants of the subterraneous passage. The wine had imparted its spirit to the holy fathers; and they now felt courage to engage, if necessary, even with the fiends of hell.
Within half an hour they were at the convent gate!
Three times were the consecrated torches borne round by the archbishop, who, muttering between his teeth, dipped the wisp into a large ewer of holy water, and plentifully besprinkled all present; Thus spiritually armed, they silently and cautiously approached the entrance of the cavern. Here a question arose, "who should go down first?" Those who were at home were unwilling to rob the strangers of the honor of precedence. The deans drew back, as being merely subalterns in the church, out of respect to their bishop. The archbishop bowed to the right learned canon, and he bowed to the rest. The General became impatient, and forced the archbishop down the steps. The rest followed with beating hearts and tottering knees.
Each carried in his hand a consecrated taper; and with a rosary hanging at his elbow, sprinkled the walls with drops of holy water. The last of the procession was the Abbot of Pardis, who, grown unwieldy by the luxurious diet of the church, could scarcely drag his short puffed legs after his fat and bulky paunch. The steps too were not only small, but damp and slippery; whence it happened, that on the second step the Abbot lost his footing, and falling with his whole weight upon Henry of Uxkull, they both fell upon the last dean: all three on the first dean; all four on the canon; all five upon the archbishop of Riga; when the whole troop rolled helter skelter down the steps, and plumped to the bottom like so many sacks, there remaining senseless!