“Yes,” said the hermit.
“Well, every thief belongs to the hangman, doesn’t he? What does that infernal Spiagudry do? He asks to have a price set upon the head of Hans.”
“He asks to have a price set upon the head of Hans?” interrupted the hermit.
“He had the audacity to do so, and that, simply that the body might fall to his share, and I might be defrauded of my property.”
“What an outrage, Master Orugix, to dare to dispute your right to a thing which so plainly belongs to you!”
These words were accompanied by a malicious smile, which alarmed Spiagudry.
“The trick is all the worse, hermit, because I only need one good hanging, such as that of Hans would be, to remove me from my obscurity, and to make the fortune which I failed to make by beheading Schumacker.”
“Indeed, Master Nychol?”
“Yes, brother monk, on the day that Hans is arrested, come and see me, and we will sacrifice a fat pig to my future greatness.”
“Gladly; but who knows whether I shall be at liberty upon that day? Besides, you just now sent ambition to the Devil.”