“You can get no shelter hem,” said the old woman, “and I’d advise you to begone.”
“May I ask who lives here?” said Gilly, putting his foot inside the door.
“Six very honest men whose business keeps them out until two and three in the morning,” said the crooked old woman.
Gilly guessed that the honest men whose business kept them out until two and three in the morning were the robbers he had heard about. And he thought they might be the very men who had carried off the Spae-Woman’s goose and the Crystal Egg along with it. “Would you tell me, good woman,” said Gilly, “did your six honest men ever bring to this house an old hatching goose?”
“They did indeed,” said the crooked woman, “and a heart-scald the same old hatching goose is. It goes round the house and round the house, trying to hatch the cups I leave out of my hands.”
Then Gilly pushed the door open wide and stepped into the house.
“Don’t stay in the house,” said the crooked old woman. “I’ll tell you the truth now. My masters are robbers, and they’ll skin you alive if they find you here when they come back in the morning.”
“It’s more likely I’ll skin them alive,” said Gilly, and he looked so fierce that he fairly frightened the old woman. “And if you don’t satisfy me with supper and a bed I’ll leave you to meet them hanging from the door.”
The crooked old woman was so terrified that she gave him a supper of porridge and showed him a bed to sleep in. He turned in and slept. He was roused by a candle being held to his eyes. He wakened up and saw six robbers standing round him with knives in their hands.
“What brings you under our roof?” said the Captain. “Answer me now before we skin you as we would skin an eel.”