"I've more to add, and that, too, may prove preposterous!" he exclaimed. "I forgot, when I fixed the price for my prisoner, that I must have a full pardon for every sin of which I stand convicted—my robberies, what you and many another call my murders, my wanton insults—to quote you again—to some of the Church's high dignitaries—for everything that you and yours may count a sin! That and the thousand crowns! So now decide, and quickly, for I want to be gone."
He was going to say more, but there were quick steps on the stones of the corridor, and then a man came in without ceremony, and, breathless with haste, strode to where Schouts was standing.
"MY LORD, THERE IS A SHIP COMING ROUND THE BEND," THE
MAN CRIED, BREATHLESSLY.
"My lord," he cried, not heeding the Churchman, who had paused in his restless walk to hear what Schouts had to say, "there is a ship coming round the bend. She is the same you bade me keep a sharp look out for."
The man held his hands to his sides, and sought to regain his squandered breath, but Schouts, filling his goblet with wine, gave it to the soldier, told him to drink, and follow him quickly.
"I will talk with you later, Deacon Cochlaeus," Schouts exclaimed, facing his visitor; "but I must see to this business at once. But bethink you of what I said. A thousand crowns and absolution, or nothing." He halted at the door, and the confusion on the face of the Churchman so amused him that he burst into loud laughter. "By the way, twelve hours hence my price will be raised. Maybe I'll ask for fifteen hundred crowns."
He pulled the door after him, and walked swiftly along the corridor, looking to his weapons as he went.
The great bell of the castle clanged a few moments later. The sound of it travelled to the building's farthest depths, and away beyond the walls, into the forest itself, for, as Otto Engel whispered, he had often heard it in his hut, and knew that there was murder afoot.