The pursuing, watchful figure followed at a distance, on up the road, on over the little hills, on into the high hills, the dogs carrying along steadily the grisly load. And once their driver halted them, and sat in the grey gloom and dust beside the dead body.
“Where do you go, dwarf?” he said.
“I go to the Ancient House,” he made answer to himself.
“What do you get?”
“I do not go to get; I go to give.”
“What do you go to give?”
“I go to leave an empty basket at the door, and the lantern that the Shopkeeper set in the hand of the pedlar.”
“Who is the pedlar, hunchback?”
“The pedlar is he that carries the pack on his back.”
“What carries he in the pack?”