The bailiff gasped. "Order the Baron!" The heavens could tremble, after all! "Varlets! Idle churls! How dare ye talk so insolently? By my two ears some of ye will hang for this night's work."
"Now thou hast but one ear to swear by," cried a great fellow, approaching the bailiff and slicing off one ear with a stroke of his knife.
The bailiff screamed and clapped his hand to his bleeding head. "The land is full enough of bailiffs," shouted some.
"Seize him, seize him," cried others.
The heavens had fallen. His fat cheeks were chalky and hung flabbily under his eyes. He saw his mistake. He should have been more conciliatory. "Hold, fellows, what would ye, drink?"
But his trembling voice was lost in the babble that arose as two or three took hold of him and bore him along, shrieking pitifully. As those that carried him seemed not to know what to do with their burden, a man solved the problem by reaching forth a rusty sword and severing the head from the body. In a trice half a dozen fellows were after the rolling head, and had raised it, dripping, upon a lance. The lance they stuck into the ground with the head lifted on high, that all might see. Several others busied themselves with picking up twigs and branches, and in a few minutes they had a roaring bonfire in a wide circle about the lance, so that the curling flames lit up its hideous, ghastly burden.
The men danced about the fire in glee.
"Ha, ha, Sir Bailiff," they mocked, "who are we, indeed? Do you know us now, Master Bailiff?"
While others said:—