And the three friends laughed at the top of their voices.
"How did it end?"
"He had him walked clean out of the church, by the sexton and two cops."
"That's confounded silly. 'Twould have been better to see who could crow the loudest. It's the loudest cock that wins."
"The idea! You'd have me believe you mean it? Suppose they gave the prize to the wrong fellow?"
"Whether you are cheated by a fool of a preacher, or by a scissors-grinder, what's the difference?"
Johannes reflected a moment and wondered if it would not be commendable to do what he ached to do—fly at these people and rain blows upon their heads. But he controlled himself and passed on, convinced that in doing so he was escaping some hard work.
For five hours he walked on without being much the wiser for his inquiries. Some people thought they had seen Markus; others knew positively nothing about him.
Johannes began to fear he had passed him; for by this time he ought to have overtaken him.
It began to grow dark, and before him lay a wide river which he must cross by means of a ferry-boat. On the farther side were hills covered with an underwood of oak, and tall, purple-flowered heather.