“Bread?” cried Claes, opening the sack and letting a river of golden coins roll out on the table. “Bread? Here is bread and butter, meat, wine, beer! Here are hams, marrow-bones, pasties, ortolans, fatted poulets, castrelins, all just as you might find them in the houses of the rich! Bread indeed! Here are casks of beer and kegs of wine! Mad must be the baker who will refuse to give us bread. Verily we will deal at his shop no more!”
“But, my good man!” said Soetkin amazed.
“Nay, listen,” said Claes, “and make the most of your good fortune. For these are the facts. Katheline, it seems, has lately been to Meyborg in Germany, and Nele with her, on a visit to my eldest brother Josse, who dwells there as a hermit. Nele told my brother how that we were living in poverty, notwithstanding that we work so hard. And now, if we are to believe this good messenger”—and here Claes pointed to the black horseman—“Josse has left the holy Roman religion and abandoned himself to the heresy of Luther.”
The man in black made answer:
“It is they that are heretics, they who follow the cult of the Scarlet Woman. For the Pope is a cheat and a trader in holy things.”
“Oh!” cried Soetkin, “speak not so loud, sir. You will have us burned alive, all three.”
“Well,” continued Claes, “it appears that Josse has made known to this good messenger that inasmuch as he is going to fight in the army of Frederic of Saxony, and is bringing him fifty armed men fully equipped, he has no need of much money to leave it to the hands of some wretch of a landsknecht, now that he himself is going to the war. Therefore, says he, take it to my brother Claes, and render to him, with my blessing, these seven hundred florins. Tell him to live virtuously, and to ponder the salvation of his soul.”
“Yea, verily,” said the horseman, “now is the time. For God will reward every man according to his works, and every man according to his merit.”
“Good sir,” said Claes, “it is not forbidden, I trust, to rejoice in the meantime at this good news? Deign, then, to stay with us, and we will celebrate our fortune with a nice dinner of tripe, well boiled, and a knuckle of that ham which I saw just now at the pork-butcher’s. Of a truth, it looked so plump and tasty that my teeth almost shot out of my mouth to close thereon.”
“Alas!” said the stranger, “the foolish make merry while the eye of the Lord is yet upon them.”