"You go well together,—two pagans."
"Comrade Zulfikar," called out Clement to the Turk as he entered, fastening on the sandals that had been brought, "you can look out for your own route now, for I must take a little side-dodge into the mountains."
"If you dodge, I will dodge too," replied the distrustful deserter. "Wherever you go, I will go."
"Where I am going, my dear friend, there is nothing to put in your pocket; it must be you wish to bag the devil, for no human being has ever set foot there."
"How do I know where the people live in this confounded country of yours! My orders were to go with you until I reached the starting-point again."
"All the better, for there will be more of us. Help me draw my sword out of the scabbard, so I can defend myself if necessary."
"So you carry a sword that it takes two men to draw. Let me get hold of it."
The two men planted their feet, grasped the sword with both hands and tugged at it for some time. At last it came out of its scabbard, almost throwing Clement over backward. Then Clement took a pitcher of honey, rubbed the rusty sword with the sticky stuff and put it back into its scabbard.
"Now we must be on our way, young man," he said to the Wallachian.
The latter at once took up his hat and his axe from the ground and went ahead without as much as one glance back at the dead. His mother seized him by the hand.