‘What makes you think that?’ inquired his companion, knitting her rough brows.
‘There is a spot on the collar—here.’ Wastei moved closer to her and presented himself sideways to Berbel pointing out the place with his finger. ‘The Jew said it was from a rusty nail, or that it might be an ink-spot—but he is only a Jew. That is not rust, nor ink, Frau Berbel. That is the old wolf’s last blood—on the right side, just under the ear. He would have shot me for a poacher, if he could, Frau Berbel. Well, I have got his coat, with his own mark on it.’
Berbel shuddered slightly, strong though she was. She liked Wastei, but she had often guessed that there was a latent ferocity in him which would come out some day.
‘And how could the coat have come to the Jew’s shop?’ she asked, after a pause.
‘You know they had a houseful of servants, all thieves from the city, and they were always getting new ones, instead of keeping honest folk from the estate. The young lord sent them all away and took his own people, God bless him. But on the night when they all died, the servants were alone in the house, before your lady got over there, and when she did, she could not do everything. I have heard that they buried them all in fine clothes. Well, in the confusion, you may be sure that one of the servants stole the coat with the blood on it, and as he expected to stay in the house, and could not have worn it himself, he took it to the Jew and sold it for what he could get. You see it looks likely, because the Jew would have waited at least a year before trying to sell it, for fear of being caught.’
‘That is true,’ said Berbel thoughtfully.
‘I would not have told the story to any one else,’ observed Wastei. ‘But as you know everything, you may as well know this too.’
‘What? Is there anything more?’
‘Nothing particular,’ answered Wastei. ‘Except that there was a hole in the pocket,’ he added carelessly. ‘You see it was not quite new, or I could not have got it for twenty marks.’
‘So there was a hole in the pocket,’ said Berbel. ‘Do you want me to mend it for you?’