But all the same he was deeply troubled by what the goblin had said about his grandfather. He never slept a wink all night, but racked his brains and thought: “How is it with the old man, my dear grandfather?”
IV
Now all this time the grandfather went on living with Careful and Bluster in the glade—only life had taken a very sad turn for the old man. His grandsons ceased to trouble about him, nor would they stay near him. They bade him neither “Good-morning” nor “Good-night,” and only went about their own affairs and listened to the goblins they harboured, the one in his pouch and the other in his bosom.
Every day Careful brought more bees from the forest, felled timber, shaped rafters, and gradually built a new cabin. He carved himself ten tallies, and every day he counted and reckoned over and over again when these tallies would be filled up.
As for Bluster, he went hunting and reiving, bringing home game and furs, plunder and treasure; and one day he even brought along two slaves whom he had taken, so that they might work for the brothers and wait upon them.
All this was very hard and disagreeable for the old man, and harder and more disagreeable still were the looks he got from his grandsons. What use had they for an old man who would not be served by the slaves, but disgraced his grandsons by cutting wood and drawing water from the well for himself? At last there wasn’t a thing about the old man that didn’t annoy his grandsons, even this, that every day he would put a log on the sacred fire.
Old Witting saw very well whither all this would lead, and that very soon they would be thinking of getting rid of him altogether. He did not care so much about his life, because life was not much use to him, but he was sorry to die before seeing Quest once more, the dear lad who was the joy of his old age.
One evening—and it was the very evening when Quest was so troubled in his mind thinking of his grandfather—Careful said to Bluster: “Come along, brother, let’s get rid of grandfather. You have weapons. Wait for him by the well and kill him.”
Now Careful said this because he specially wanted the old cabin at all costs, so as to put up beehives on that spot. “I can’t,” replied Bluster, whose heart had not grown so hard, amidst bloodshed and robbery, as Careful’s among his riches and his tallies.
But Careful would not give over, because the imp in his bag went on whispering and nagging. The imp in his pouch knew very well that Careful would be the first to put the old man away, and so gain him great credit with Rampogusto.