Volume Ii Part 40 (1/2)

”By day and by night. By day I used to wander about the dunes and the highways, carrying my waffle iron, keeping in hiding, and especially on Sat.u.r.day, the day of the great Bruges market. If I saw some rustic pa.s.s, wandering melancholy, I left him alone, judging that his trouble was a flux of the purse; but I used to walk along by him whom I saw journeying merrily; when he did not look for it I would bite him in the neck and take his satchel. And not only in the dunes, but on all the byways and highways of the flat country.”

The bailiff then said:

”Repent and pray unto G.o.d.”

”It is the Lord G.o.d that willed I should be what I am. I did all without my will, egged on by Nature's will. Wicked tigers, ye will punish me unjustly. But do not burn me ... I did all without my will; have pity, I am poor and old; I shall die of my wounds; do not burn me.”

He was then taken to the Vierschare, under the lime tree, there to hear his sentence in the presence of all the people a.s.sembled.

And he was condemned, as a horrible murderer, robber, and blasphemer, to have his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, his right hand cut off, and to be burned alive in a slow fire, until death ensued, before the doors of the Townhall.

And Toria cried:

”It is just; he pays!”

And the people cried:

”Lang leven de Heeren van de Wet,” long life to the men of the law.

He was taken back into prison, where he was given meat and wine. And he was merry, saying that he had never till then eaten or drunk, either, but that the king, inheriting his goods, could well pay for his last meal for him.

And he laughed sourly.

The next day, at the first of dawn, while they were taking him to execution, he saw Ulenspiegel standing beside the stake, and he cried out, pointing to him with his finger:

”That one there, murderer of an old man, ought to die as well; he flung me into the ca.n.a.l of Damme, ten years ago, because I had denounced his father, wherein I had served His Catholic Majesty as a faithful subject.”

The bells of Notre Dame rang for the dead.

”For thee even as for me are those bells tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel; ”thou shalt be hanged, for thou hast killed.”

”The fishmonger lies,” cried all the common folk; ”he lies, the murdering ruffian.”

And Toria, like a madwoman, cried out, flinging a stone at him that cut his forehead:

”If he had drowned thee, thou wouldst not have lived to bite my poor girl, like a bloodsucking vampire.”

As Ulenspiegel uttered no word, Lamme said:

”Did any see him throw the fishmonger in the water?”

Ulenspiegel made no answer.

”No, no,” shouted the people; ”he lied, the murderer!”

”No, I lied not,” cried the fishmonger, ”he threw me in, while I implored him to forgive me, and by the same token, I got out by the help of a skiff tied up alongside the high bank. Wet through and s.h.i.+vering, I could scarcely get back to my poor home. I had the fever then, none looked after me, and I deemed I must die.”

”Thou liest,” said Lamme; ”no man saw it.”