"Who art thou? and what hast thou to do lurking about this door?" asked the blacksmith, in a still harsher voice, and coming nearer.
"No," thought Choop, "I'll not tell him who I am; he might beat me, the cursed fellow!" and then, changing his voice, answered, "My good man, I come here in order to amuse you, by singing carols beneath your window."
"Go to the devil with thy carols!" angrily cried Vakoola. "What dost thou wait for? didst thou hear me? be gone, directly."
Choop himself had already the same prudent intention; but he felt cross at being obliged to obey the blacksmith's command. Some evil spirit seemed to prompt him to say something contrary to Vakoola.
"What makes thee shout in that way?" asked he in the same assumed voice; "my intention is to sing a carol, and that is all."
"Ah! words are not sufficient for thee!" and immediately after, Choop felt a heavy stroke fall upon his shoulders.
"Now, I see, thou art getting quarrelsome!" said he, retreating a few paces.
"Begone, begone!" exclaimed the blacksmith, striking again.
"What now!" exclaimed Choop, in a voice which expressed at the same time pain, anger, and fear. "I see thou quarrelest in good earnest, and strikest hard."
"Begone, begone!" again exclaimed the blacksmith, and violently shut the door.