“It’s the armor,” interrupted the boy, who wanted his share in making a part of that joke.
“And that, too, he didn’t get.”
“Was it fine armor?”
“Splendid, they say, all shining with gold.”
“And did they catch him as he was carrying it away?”
“Yes, you know as well as I do that armor like that never goes astray without raising a great outcry; it can’t escape its proper owner all by itself.”
“So, then, it was of iron?”
“They woke up in the château at the noise they heard.”
“And did they arrest the man?”
“Not at once; they began by being afraid.”