"May God multiply your victories, valiant knight!" said the stranger.
Then, seeing Zbyszko's youthful face, he added softly:
"And the hairs of your beard, also."
He rode beside the Czech. For a time they could not talk, because a strong wind was blowing, and roaring in the forest; but when it decreased, Zbyszko heard the following conversation behind him.
"I don't deny that you were in Rome; but you look like a beer drunkard," said the Czech.
"Look out for eternal damnation," answered the stranger; "you are talking to a man who last Easter ate hard boiled eggs with the holy father. Don't speak to me in such cold weather about beer; but if you have a flask of wine with you, then give me two or three swallows of it, and I will pardon you a month of purgatory."
"You have not been ordained; I heard you say you had not. How then can you grant me pardon for a month of purgatory?"
"I have not received ordination, but I have my head shaved, because I received permission for that; beside, I am carrying indulgences and relics."
"In the chests?" asked the Czech.
"Yes, in the chests. If you saw all I have there, you would fall on your face, not only you, but all the pines in the forest and all the wild beasts."