“I am our master’s new servant,” said the idiot; “you know, the one he is expecting.”
“I know nothing of it,” replied the dwarf; “and you look to me uncommonly like a cheat.”
“Excuse me,” returned Peronnik, “such is by no means my profession; I am only a catcher and trainer of birds. But, for God’s sake, don’t keep me now; for his lordship, the magician, is expecting me this very moment; and has even lent me his own colt, as you see, that I may the sooner reach the castle.”
The Korigan saw, in fact, that Peronnik rode the magician’s young horse, and began to consider whether he might not really be speaking truth. Besides, the idiot had so simple an air, that it was not possible to suspect him of inventing such a story. However, he still felt mistrust; and asked what need the magician had of a bird-catcher?
“The greatest need, it seems,” said Peronnik; “for, according to his account, all that ripens, whether seed or fruit, in the garden at Kerglas, is just now eaten up by birds.”
“And what can you do to hinder them?” asked the dwarf.
Peronnik showed the little snare which he had manufactured, and declared that no bird would be able to escape it.
“That is just what I will make sure of,” said the Korigan. “My apple-tree is ravaged just as much by the blackbirds and thrushes. Set your snare; and if you can catch them, I will let you pass.”
To this Peronnik agreed; he fastened his colt to a bush, and going up to the apple-tree, fixed therein one end of the snare, calling to the Korigan to hold the other whilst he got the skewers ready. He did as the idiot requested; and Peronnik hastily drawing the running noose, the dwarf found himself caught like a bird.
He uttered a cry of rage, and struggled to get free; but the springe, having been well steeped in holy water, bade defiance to all his efforts.