“If thou dost not yet know on what path thou shouldst take up thy stand, stay in that one that leads to the graveyard. It is between two hedges of broom. Two men could not walk in it side by side.”
“I will take my stand there,” said Ulenspiegel. “And do you, valiant master curé, co-worker of deliverance, order and enjoin the girl’s mother, with her husband and her brothers, to be in the church, all armed, before the curfew. If they hear me whistling like the sea-mew, it will mean that I have seen the weer-wolf. They must then sound wacharm on the bell and come to my rescue. And if there are any other brave men?...”
“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen fear the weer-wolf more than the plague and death. But go not thither.”
Ulenspiegel replied:
“The ashes beat upon my heart.”
The curé said then:
“I shall do as thou wishest; be thou blessed. Art thou hungry or thirsty?”
“Both,” replied Ulenspiegel.
The curé gave him beer, bread, and cheese.
Ulenspiegel drank, ate, and went away.