And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.
“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”
And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:
“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”
“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”
And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”
But Nele went on with her story:
“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”
All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:
“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”