"What ho! you brigands, what are you doing there?"
In a moment the circle around broke up. A crowd of angry faces were gathered closely round the philosophers, and more than one pair of rough hands were laid upon their shoulders.
"Play fair, you two!" cried Piet the Red, who was in command, "or we'll tie you both to the nearest beams and await my lord's commands."
"Easy, easy, friend," quoth Diogenes with a pleasant laugh, "my nose was itching and my compeer held on to my arm while he tried to reach my nose in order to scratch it."
"Then if it itch again," retorted the man with an equally jovial laugh, "call for my services, friend. And now, you two scarecrows! the five minutes are over. Jan will be here in a moment."
But they formed up the circle once more, kind and compassionate. Jan was not yet here, and the rogues had had a warning: they were not like to be at their tricks again.
"Never mind about me," whispered Diogenes hurriedly as Pythagoras and Socrates, baffled and furious, were giving forth samples of their choicest vocabularies. "You see that Chance alone can favour me an she choose, if not ... 'tis no matter. What you can do for me is far more important than cheating the gallows of my carcase."
"What is it?" they asked simply.
"The jongejuffrouw," he said, "you know where she is?"
"In the hut—close by," replied Socrates, "we saw the sledge draw up there...."