"No, no; no, no!"
And Vendel was left alone to his own reflections, which were anything but agreeable. Cold and hungry, turned out of his comfortable home and warm bed, to pass the night in a damp maize-shed—and all for the caprice of a sovereign who wished to preserve him in spirits!
In about an hour's time, every moment of which seemed an eternity to our poor fugitive, Hanzli returned laden with various articles. Vendel descried him at some distance, and rejoiced in seeing him thus bent beneath his burden, believing he had brought the whole contents of the larder on his back.
"What is that on your back, Hanzli?" he called to him as he approached.
"A sheaf of straw, and a cloak."
"Iai! nothing to eat? And what is that in your arms?"
"That is the poodle, which I was obliged to carry, for he would not come with me."
"And the bread, and the other things?" asked Vendel anxiously.
"Here it is, in the bag."
Alas! this bag was a very small concern.