"Yes, you did, Cornelius Vanslyperken; not that I believe a craven like you would ever attempt such a thing."
"But I have, mother. I have done the deed," replied Vanslyperken.
"You have!" cried his mother; "then at last you have done something, and I shall respect you. Come, come, child, cheer up, and tell me all about it. There is a slight twinge the first time--but the second is nothing. Did you get gold? Hey, my son, plenty of gold?"
"Gold! no, no--I got nothing--indeed I lost by it--lost a pot full of black paint--but never mind that. He's gone," replied Vanslyperken, recovering himself fast.
"Who is gone?"
"The lad, Smallbones."
"Pish," replied the old woman, rocking her chair. "Ay, well, never mind--it was for revenge, then--that's sweet--very sweet. Now, Cornelius, tell me all about it."
Vanslyperken, encouraged by the sympathy, if we may use the term, shown by his mother, narrated what he had done.
"Well, well, child, 'tis a beginning," replied the old woman, "and I'll not call you craven again."
"I must go back," said Vanslyperken, starting up from his chair.