"Ay, did they receive bribes?" rejoined the peasant: "that is strange enough; for I always thought that they were as free and liberal of their gold to those who needed it, as any men living, and coveted nothing belonging to another; and those are not the sort of men, I have heard say, who usually receive bribes."
"Ay, that is true enough, indeed!" answered the citizen, with a sigh.
"But did they really receive bribes?" persevered the peasant. "Was it clearly proved?"
"No, no, I believe not," replied the citizen. "Proof they could not get--proof they could not get; but there was strong suspicion."
"'Tis hard a man should die for mere suspicion, though; for who would be safe if that were law?" said the other. "If I had been one of them, I would have appealed to the King of France and court of peers."
"Why, so they both did," replied the citizen; "but they are to die for all that."
"Then I would not be a citizen of Ghent for ten thousand crowns," answered the peasant; "for, by the Lord! Louis and his peers will be like to hang every one of them that he catches; and it is a sad thing to be hanged for spilling innocent blood. Were I one of the citizens of Ghent, they should never stain the market-place in such a way while I had a voice to raise against it."
"Ay, ay, it is very sad!" said the citizen: "and I dare say if any one would begin, many a man would cry out against it too."
"Well, well," answered the other, "I must forward, and see what is going on; and I hope some one will cry out against it."
Thus speaking, the peasant, as he seemed to be, pushed his way on for a little distance, and then, pausing by another of the citizens, held with him a short conversation, like that which we have just narrated, asking very nearly the same questions, and making very nearly the same observations on the answers he received.