Well! Shortshanks did as she told him, and he had scarce crept into the side-room before the Ogre came in.
“HUF!” said the Ogre; “what a horrid smell of Christian man’s blood!”
“Yes!” said the Princess, “I know there is, for a bird flew over the house with a Christian man’s bone in his bill, and let it fall down the chimney. I made all the haste I could to get it out again, but I dare say it’s that you smell.”
“Ah!” said the Ogre, “like enough.”
Then the Princess asked the Ogre if he had laid hold of any one who could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one strike?
“No”, said the Ogre, “I can’t hear of any one who can do it.”
“Well”, she said, “a while ago, there was a chap in here who said he could do it.”
“Just like you, with your wisdom!” said the Ogre; “why did you let him go away then, when you knew he was the very man I wanted?”
“Well then, I didn’t let him go”, said the Princess; “but father’s temper is a little hot, so I hid him away in the side-room yonder; but if father hasn’t hit upon any one, here he is.”
“Well”, said the Ogre, “let him come in then.”