When he entered the great hall, the king asked him if he was the man who had stolen the five sheep.
“Yes, sire,” replied Greybeard; “I do not deny it.”
“And pray, may I ask why you did it?” demanded the king.
“I did not go very far beyond my rights,” replied Greybeard. “Besides, the old people who live in the hut yonder, are no longer able to support themselves,” he continued; “they had no food, while you, oh king, have plenty, and more than you can possibly use. It seemed only fair to me, therefore, that they should have as much as they needed, of that which you did not require, and could not use.”
The king was at first inclined to be angry at this cool rejoinder; but he then became amused at Greybeard’s coolness—it just reminded him of what Prince Olaf used to do. So he laughed, and asked him if the art of thieving was the only thing he had ever learned.
“No, sire,” replied Greybeard, smiling; “I took no more than I had a fair right to, neither did I take it for myself, nor did I deprive you of anything you really needed.”
“Well,” said the king, “you certainly are a funny fellow, and always ready with an answer. But though I won’t hang you for stealing my sheep, I must give you a lesson. To-morrow I will send my servants into the forest with my young red bull. If you succeed in stealing him, you shall be pardoned, but if you fail, you shall be hanged.”
“I do not think I could steal the bull,” replied Greybeard, “for, of course, you will have him carefully guarded.”
“That is your affair,” answered the king; “see that you do not fail.”
When Greybeard returned to the hut, the old people received him with great joy, for they feared they should never see him again. He asked them if they had a stout rope, as he would need it next morning. Trude searched in her cupboards, and luckily found a nice bit of strong rope. This she gave Greybeard, and then all three retired to rest.