The curé said:
“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”
“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will be doing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”
The curé said:
“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”
“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound the wacharm on the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”
“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”
Ulenspiegel answered:
“The ashes beat upon my heart.”
And the curé said to him: