“That old ghost keeps me waiting a long time,” said he, as if talking to himself; and he uttered a sound like the roar of a wild beast.
Spiagudry would certainly have turned pale with fright, had he been capable of turning paler than he was.
“Do you know,” continued the little man, addressing him directly, “that I come from Urchtal Sands? Do you
Hans of Iceland finding the Body of his Son, Gill Stadt.
Photo-Etching.—From drawing by François Flameng.
want to change your straw bed for one of these beds of stone, that you keep me waiting thus?”
Spiagudry trembled more than ever; the two solitary teeth left to him chattered in his head.
“Excuse me, master,” said he, bending his long back to a level with the little man; “I was asleep.”