“It is I! It is I!” cried the husband.
“You?” she cried; “and where do you come from at this time?”
“Whence do I come?” said he. “You know very well, madam. There is no need for me to tell you—but what you did to me I will some day do to you,”—for he was so angry that he would willingly have showered abuse upon his wife, but she cut him short, and said;
“Sir, for God’s sake pardon me. On my oath I assure you that I did not know you were here now, for, believe me, I am very much astonished that you should be still here, for I ordered my women to let you out whilst I was at prayers, and they told me they would do so; and, in fact, one of them told me that you had been let out, and had gone into the town, and would not return home, and so I went to bed soon afterwards without waiting for you.”
“Saint John!” said he; “you see how it is. But make haste and let me out, for I am so exhausted that I can stand it no longer.”
“That may well be,” said she, “but you will not come out till you have promised to pay me the wager you lost, and also pardon me, or otherwise I will not let you out.”
“Make haste, for God’s sake! I will pay you—really.”
“And you promise?”
“Yes—on my oath!”
This arrangement being concluded, Madam opened the chest, and Monsieur came out, tired, cramped, and exhausted.