"And are you two able to carry on the business?—for I suppose there are all sorts of things to be done?"
"Good heart alive! The less you say about the headsman's trade the better."
"But why should I not talk about it? It is a regular profession, is it not, like any other? And just as respectable too, eh? Nay, it is more profitable than most trades, because there is less of competition in it. Now, as for me, I have a perfect passion for it. Why, the only reason why I am here is to come to some arrangement with Master Zudár. I want to buy of him, my pretty dame, the business which you loathe so much."
The headsman's wife regarded the stranger with eyes full of doubt and astonishment.
"You are a very young man for the business," said she suspiciously.
"Oh, as for that, my dear, pray don't imagine that I am going to put up with all the disagreeables of the profession for the fun of the thing. I mean to have lots of help I can tell you. I shall live in town and frequent the best taverns and coffee houses. I shall live like a gentleman and nobody will know who I am. I shall only appear on the scene officially when an execution worthy of my skill awaits me—a nice beheading or something of that sort, you know. Oh! I shall have a fine time of it I can tell you."
Dame Zudár felt a shudder run all down her back. She durst not look again at the stranger.
"It is a pity you have not more than one 'prentice now. It looks as if you had very much neglected the business. I am annoyed at that. It will be difficult to give it a fresh start. Had you not more than one apprentice a little time ago?"
"Yes, there used to be another," stammered Dame Zudár involuntarily.
"Then why did you pack him off?" inquired the unknown, picking from the fire with his delicate index-finger a burning ember, tossing it lightly on to his soft palm, and thence chucking it adroitly into the bowl of his little pipe.