In what a whirl of smoke and firelight and wild , fantastic , hurtling shadows we were ! When we grew tired of our sport we went to the windward side of the field and perched ourselves on the high pole fence that skirted a dark spruce wood , full of strange , furtive sounds . Over us was a great , dark sky , blossoming with silver stars , and all around lay dusky , mysterious reaches of meadow and wood in the soft , empurpled night . Away to the east a shimmering silveryness beneath a palace of aerial cloud foretokened moonrise . But directly before us the potato field , with its wreathing smoke and sullen flames , the gigantic shadow of Uncle Alec crossing and recrossing it , reminded us of Peter 's famous description of the bad place , and probably suggested the Story Girl 's remark . `` I know a story , '' she said , infusing just the right shade of weirdness into her voice , `` about a man who saw the devil . Now , what 's the matter , Felicity ? '' `` I can never get used to the way you mention the -- the -- that name , '' complained Felicity . `` To hear you speak of the Old Scratch any one would think he was just a common person . '' `` Never mind . Tell us the story , '' I said curiously . `` It is about Mrs. John Martin 's uncle at Markdale , '' said the Story Girl . `` I heard Uncle Roger telling it the other night . He did n't know I was sitting on the cellar hatch outside the window , or I do n't suppose he would have told it . Mrs. Martin 's uncle 's name was William Cowan , and he has been dead for twenty years ; but sixty years ago he was a young man , and a very wild , wicked young man . He did everything bad he could think of , and never went to church , and he laughed at everything religious , even the devil . He did n't believe there was a devil at all . One beautiful summer Sunday evening his mother pleaded with him to go to church with her , but he would not . He told her that he was going fishing instead , and when church time came he swaggered past the church , with his fishing rod over his shoulder , singing a godless song . Half way between the church and the harbour there was a thick spruce wood , and the path ran through it .
When William Cowan was half way XXXXX it SOMETHING came out of the wood and walked beside him . ''
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