XXIII

XXIIIAt Harlebeke Lamme renewed his provision ofoliekoekjes, eating seven-and-twenty of them on the spot and putting thirty away into his basket. The same evening they came to Courtrai and dismounted from their donkeys at the tavern of the Bee that was kept by one Gilis Van den Ende, who himself came to the inn door as soon as he heard the singing of the lark.At once the new arrivals found that everything was made like sugar and honey for them; for mine host, as soon as he had seen the letter from the Prince, presented Ulenspiegel with fifty caroluses on the Prince’s behalf, nor would he accept any payment at all for the turkey which he served for their dinner, nor yet for thedobbel clauwaertwhich he gave them to drink. He warned them also that there were many spies in Courtrai, and that it behoved both Ulenspiegel and his companion to keep a close watch on what they said during their stay in the city.“We shall be careful,” said Ulenspiegel and Lamme. And so saying they came out of the tavern.The gables of the houses were all gilded in the rays of the setting sun. The birds sang in the lime-trees, and Lamme and Ulenspiegel wandered at their ease along the streets of the town. All at once Lamme said:“I asked Martin Van den Ende if by chance he had seen any one at all resembling my wife in Courtrai, and he told me that there were a number of women that were accustomed to meet together of an evening at the sign of the Rainbow, a house that is kept by a woman called La Stevenyne, just outside the town on the road to Bruges. I shall go there.”“I will meet you anon,” said Ulenspiegel. “But now I would see the sights of the town. If I meet your wife I will send her on to you. Meanwhile remember what the innkeeper said, and keep your own counsel if you value your own skin.”“I will be careful,” said Lamme.Ulenspiegel walked about by himself till the sun set and night began to come on quickly. He had come to thePierpot-Straetje—the Alley of the Pot of Stone—and there he heard the sound of a viola being played most melodiously, and presently he noticed a white figure that beckoned to him from a distance, then retreated, playing the viola all the time. It was a woman, and she sang like a seraphim, a sweet, slow song, stopping now and then to look behind her with a beckoning gesture, then retreating again. But Ulenspiegel ran quickly and overtook her, and was about to speak to her when she sealed his lips with a hand all scented with benjamin.“Are you a working man or a nobleman?” she asked.“I am Ulenspiegel.”“Are you rich?”“Rich enough for you.”“But you have not seen me!” And she opened the lantern she carried so as to let the light shine straight upon her face.“You are beautiful,” said Ulenspiegel.“Then come with me,” she said.And she brought him to the house of La Stevenyne, on the road to Bruges, at the sign of the Rainbow.They entered a large room where a great number of girls were assembled, who all looked up jealously at Ulenspiegel’s companion as she came in. And suddenly Ulenspiegel saw Lamme, sitting there in a corner by a little table whereon was a candle, a ham, and a pot of beer. By his side were a couple of girls, who were endeavouring to get a share in the ham and the beer; but Lamme was trying to prevent them. As soon as he noticed Ulenspiegel he jumped up, crying:“Blessed be God who has given back to me my friend! Bring more drink,baesine!”At this Ulenspiegel drew out his purse, saying:“Yes, bring us to drink to the value of what is in here!” and he jingled the money that was in the purse.“No, by heaven!” cried Lamme, seizing the purse. “It’s I that shall pay, not you.”Ulenspiegel would have recovered the purse by force, but Lamme kept tight hold. As they were struggling together, the one to keep the purse, the other to get it back again, Lamme whispered by fits and starts into Ulenspiegel’s ear:“Listen.Constables. Here ... four of them ... in the little room with three girls.Two outside waiting for you and for me.... I tried to go out ... prevented.... The girl over there in the brocaded gown is a spy ... Stevenyne a spy!”And all the time they were fighting Ulenspiegel listened attentively, though he kept on crying aloud:“Give me back my purse, you rascal!”And they seized each other by the neck and by the shoulders, and rolled together on the floor, while Lamme went on with his tidings to Ulenspiegel. Suddenly there appeared on the scene mine host of the tavern of the Bee; and he was followed by seven other men, with whom, however, he apparently had no connexion. As he came in he crowed like a cock and Ulenspiegel whistled like a lark. Then, seeing Ulenspiegel and Lamme still struggling on the floor, he inquired of La Stevenyne who they might be. “Two rascals,” she told him, “who ought to be parted from each other instead of being allowed to make all this disturbance ere they are brought to the gallows.”“If any one tries to separate us,” said Ulenspiegel, “we will make him eat of these paving-stones.”“Yes,” said Lamme, “we will make him eat these paving-stones!”Then Ulenspiegel whispered something in Lamme’s ear. “The innkeeper is come to rescue us.” And presently the innkeeper, who must have divined some mystery was afoot,joined themêléeon the floor with his head down, and Lamme attacked him in the ear with these words:“You have come to rescue us? How will you do it?”The innkeeper made pretence of pulling Ulenspiegel by the ears, but managed to say to him the while, under his breath:“These seven men are on your side ... they are strong men ... butchers.... I must be off ... too well known in the town ... but when I have gone....’T is van te beven de klinkaert.... Break up everything....”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel, rising at the same time from the floor and kicking out at the innkeeper. The latter struck Ulenspiegel in his turn and Ulenspiegel said:“You hit hard, my hearty!”“As hard as a hail-storm,” said the innkeeper. And quickly seizing the purse from Lamme he handed it back to Ulenspiegel.“You may stand me a drink, you rogue, now you are come into your right mind again.”“I’ll stand you one, you scandalous scamp,” replied Ulenspiegel.“See how insolent he is,” said La Stevenyne.“As insolent as you are beautiful,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now La Stevenyne was sixty years old at least, and her face was like the fruit of the medlar, but all yellow with bile, and she had a large port-wine stain on her left cheek.When the innkeeper had had his drink, he paid the bill and departed. The seven butchers meanwhile made sundry knowing grimaces at the constables and La Stevenyne. One of them indicated by a gesture that he held Ulenspiegel for a simpleton, and that he would be able to do for him very easily. But all the time that he was putting out his tongue in mockery to La Stevenyne, who herself was grinning and laughing, he whispered in Ulenspiegel’s ear:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert—it is time to rattle theglasses.” Then, in his ordinary tone of voice, and pointing at the constables:“Gentle Reformer,” he said, “we are all on your side. Stand us some food and drink, won’t you?”And La Stevenyne laughed with pleasure, and put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel when his back was turned. And La Gilline, she of the brocaded gown, she also put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel, and the girls all began to whisper one to another: “Behold the spy that by her beauty draweth men to the torture and bringeth them at last to a death more cruel even than torture. Above seven-and-twenty Protestants hath she betrayed already. Gilline is her name, and now she is in a rapture of joy as she thinks of the reward she will get for her information—the first hundred caroluses, to wit, from the estate of each of her victims. But she will not laugh when she bethinketh her that she must share one-half of the spoil with La Stevenyne!”And every one there present—the constables, the butchers, and the girls themselves—put out their tongues in mockery of Ulenspiegel. And Lamme sweated great drops of sweat, and became red with anger like the crest of a cock. But he would not let himself say a word.“Come, stand us food and drink,” said the butchers and the constables.“Very well,” said Ulenspiegel, jingling yet again the money in his purse. “Bring us meat and drink, my sweet Stevenyne; bring us drink in glasses that can sing!”At this the girls began to laugh anew; but La Stevenyne went down to the cellar and brought back with her ham, sausages, black-pudding omelettes, and some of those singing glasses, that are so called because they are mounted on tall stems and can be made to resound like a bell when some one strikes them. Then Ulenspiegel said:“Let him who is hungry eat, and he who is thirsty let him drink!” And the constables, the girls, the butchers, Gilline,and La Stevenyne applauded these words of Ulenspiegel, clapping their hands and stamping their feet; and then they all sat down to the feast. Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the seven butchers sat at the big table of honour, the constables and the girls at two smaller tables; and they ate and drank right heartily. And the constables invited their two comrades, who had been waiting outside the house, to come in and join them.La Stevenyne said with a snigger:“Remember, no one can leave till he has paid me.”And she went and locked all the doors, and put the keys in her pocket.At this La Gilline raised her glass.“The bird is in its cage,” she cried. “Let us drink.”But two of the girls, whose names were Gena and Margot, said to her:“Is this yet another man that you are going to lure to his death, you wicked one?”“I know not,” said Gilline; “let us drink.”But the girls would not drink with her.And Gilline took her viola and sang in French this song:Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.As she sang this song La Gilline looked so beautiful, so soft and fragrant, that all the men, the constables and the butchers, Lamme and Ulenspiegel himself, sat smiling there, quite melted and overcome by her charm.All at once La Gilline gave a loud laugh and fixed her gaze on Ulenspiegel:“And it’s thus that the birds are caged,” she said. And the spell of her charm was broken.Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the butchers looked at one another.“Well now,” said La Stevenyne, “are you going to pay the bill, my Lord Ulenspiegel?”“We shall pay nothing in advance,” said he.“Then I shall pay myself later on—out of your inheritance,” said La Stevenyne. After that:“Let us drink!” she cried.“Let us drink!” cried the constables.“Let us drink!” cried La Stevenyne. “The doors are shut; the windows are strongly barred; the birds are in their cage. Let us drink!”“Let us drink then,” said Ulenspiegel. “And bring us wine of the best to crown the banquet.”La Stevenyne brought in more wine. And now they were all seated, drinking and eating, the constables and the girls together. But the seven butchers were at the same tablewith Ulenspiegel and Lamme, and they kept on throwing pieces of ham, and sausages, omelettes, and bottles of wine to the table of the girls, who themselves caught the food in mid-flight as carp catch the flies that buzz on the surface of a fishpond. And La Stevenyne laughed and grinned, and pointed to the packets of candles which hung over the counter. And these were the candles that the gay girls were used to purchase, five to the pound. Then La Stevenyne said to Ulenspiegel:“On his way to the stake it is the custom for the condemned man to carry a wax candle. Shall I make you a present of one?”“Let us drink!” said Ulenspiegel.But La Gilline said: “Look at Ulenspiegel’s eyes. They are shining like the eyes of a swan that is about to die.”“Wouldn’t you like to eat one of the candles?” said La Stevenyne. “They would serve you in hell to lighten your eternal damnation.”“I see clearly enough to admire your ugly mug,” said Ulenspiegel.Suddenly he struck the stem of his wine-glass and clapped his hands together with a rhythm like that an upholsterer uses when he beats the wool of a mattress with his stick.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” he said; “it is time to make the glasses shiver—the glasses which resound....”And this, in Flanders, is the signal that the drinkers make when they are angry, and when they are like to ransack and despoil in their wrath the houses of ill fame. So even now did Ulenspiegel raise his glass and drink, and then did he made it vibrate upon the table, crying yet again:“’T isvan tebeven de klinkaert.”And the seven butchers did likewise.Then a great stillness fell upon the company. La Gilline grew pale; La Stevenyne looked astonished. The constables said:“Are the seven with them too?” But the butchers winked their eyes and reassured them; yet all the time they continued without ceasing, and louder and louder as Ulenspiegel led them:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”La Stevenyne took another draught of wine to give herself courage.Then Ulenspiegel struck his fist on the table in that regular rhythm which the upholsterers use as they beat their mattresses; and the seven did likewise; and the glasses, jugs, trenchers, flagons, and goblets began to dance upon the table, slowly at first, but beginning soon to knock against each other, and to break and to heel over on one side as they fell. And all the time echoed and re-echoed, more sternly menacing, with every monotonous repetition:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“Alas!” said La Stevenyne, “they will break everything.” And her teeth seemed to show farther out from her lips than ever. And the hot blood of their fury and of their anger began to flame in the souls of the seven butchers, and in the souls of Lamme and Ulenspiegel. Till at last, without ceasing once their melancholy and monotonous chant, all they that were sitting at Ulenspiegel’s table took their glasses, and brake them upon the table, and at the same moment they drew their cutlasses and leapt upon the chairs. And they made such a din with their song that all the windows in the house shook. Then like a band of infuriated devils they went round the room, visiting each table in turn, crying without ceasing:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”And the constables rose up trembling with terror and seized their ropes and chains. But the butchers, together with Lamme and Ulenspiegel, thrust their knives quickly back into their cases, and sprang up to run nimbly throughthe chamber, hitting out right and left with their chairs as though they had been cudgels. And they spared nothing there except the girls, for everything else they brake in pieces—furniture, windows, chests, plates, pots, trenchers, glasses, and flagons, hitting out at the constables without mercy, and crying out all the time in the rhythm of the mattress-beaters: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” And Ulenspiegel, who had given La Stevenyne a blow on the nose with his fist, and had taken all her keys and put them into his satchel, was now amusing himself by forcing her to eat those candles of hers. And the girls laughed at the sight of her as she sneezed with anger and tried to spit out the candles—but in vain, for her mouth was too full. And all the time Ulenspiegel and the seven butchers did not cease the rhythm of their dire refrain: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” But at last Ulenspiegel made a sign, and when silence had at last been restored he spake, saying:“You are here, my friends, in our power. It is a dark night and the River Lys is close at hand, where a man drowns easily if he is once pushed in. And the gates of Courtrai are shut.” Then turning to the seven butchers:“You are bound for Peteghen, to join the Beggarmen?”“We were ready to go there when the news came to us that you were here.”“And from Peteghen you were going to the sea?”“Yes,” they said.“Do you think there are one or two among these constables whom it would be safe to release for our service?”“There are two,” they said, “Niklaes and Joos by name, who have never as yet been guilty of persecuting the poor Reformers.”“You can trust us!” said Niklaes and Joos.“Very well then,” said Ulenspiegel. “Here are twenty caroluses for you, twice as much, that is, as you would havegot for an act of shameful betrayal.” And at that the other five constables cried out as one man:“Twenty florins! We will serve the Prince for twenty florins. The King’s pay is bad. Only give us half as much and we will tell the judge any tale you please.” But Lamme and the butchers kept muttering under their breath:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“In order that you may be kept from too much talking,” Ulenspiegel continued, “the seven will lead you in handcuffs to Peteghen, and there you will be given over into the hands of the Beggarmen. The florins will be handed to you at sea, and if you prove brave in battle you will have your share of the spoil. If you attempt to desert you will be hanged.”“We will serve him who pays us,” they said.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” murmured the seven.“You will also take with you,” said Ulenspiegel, “La Gilline, La Stevenyne and the girls. If any one of them tries to escape you will sew her in a sack and throw her into the river.”“He has not killed me yet!” cried La Gilline, jumping up from her corner and brandishing her viola in the air. And she began to sing:Sanglant était mon rêve.Le rêve de mon cœur.Je suis la fille d’EveEt de Satan vainqueur.But La Stevenyne and the others seemed as if they were going to cry.“Do not be afraid, my sweets,” said Ulenspiegel. “You are so pretty and so tender that all men will love to caress you wherever you go, and after every victory you will have yourshare in the spoils.” But the three girls turned upon La Gilline:“You that were her daughter, her breadwinner, sharing with La Stevenyne the shameful rewards of her espionage, do you still dare to flaunt yourself before us and to insult us with your dress of brocade? Verily it is the blood of the victims and nothing else that has clothed you so richly. But now let us take her dress from her, so she may be like to us.”“That shall not be,” said Ulenspiegel.And the girls looked jealously at Ulenspiegel, saying:“He is mad about her, like all the rest.”And La Gilline played upon her viola and sang, and the seven butchers departed for Peteghen, taking with them the constables and the girls. And they passed along by the River Lys. And as they went they kept muttering:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert!” And at break of day they came to the camp, and sang out like the lark and were answered straightway by a cockcrow. The girls and the constables were put under a strong guard, but in spite of these precautions La Gilline was found dead at noon on the third day, her heart pierced by a long needle. The three girls accused La Stevenyne of having done this deed, and she was brought before the captain. There she confessed that she had committed the crime out of jealousy and anger at the way the girl had treated her. And La Stevenyne was hanged and buried in the wood.La Gilline also was buried, and prayers were said over her sweet body.XXIVWarm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about.From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”The master charcoal-burner answered:“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many timesand again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:“Where have I seen this fat man?”“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.XXVNow, in those days a damsel some fifteen years of age was going from Heyst to Knokke, alone in the middle of the day, by the sand-dunes. No one had any fear for her for they knew that the wolves and wicked spirits of the damned go biting their victims only in the night. The damsel carried a satchel wherein were forty-eight gold coins of the value of four florins carolus, being the sum owed by the girl’s mother, Toria Pieterson, who lived at Heyst, to her uncle, Jan Rapen of Knokke, on account of a sale. The girl’s name was Betkin,and she was wearing her best clothes, and she went on her way most happily.The same evening, seeing that she did not return, her mother became anxious, but reassured herself with the thought that the girl must have stayed the night with her uncle.On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at theMinqueof Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself!Covering the girl’s body with anopperst-kleedthey brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders.The Death of BetkinThe Death of BetkinAnd in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made.But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: “I will go and kill the werwolf.”“What gives you this confidence?” asked the bailiff.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” Ulenspiegel replied. “Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune.”“Very well,” said the bailiff.Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge,and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts.On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme:“I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff.”Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him:“This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing.” Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said:“You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there.” And the curé crossed himself.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé said:“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will bedoing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”The curé said:“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound thewacharmon the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”Ulenspiegel answered:“The ashes beat upon my heart.”And the curé said to him:“I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?”“Both,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way.And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England.“Alas!” he cried, “O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on themurderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise.”And so saying he came down into the valley, stumbling as if he had been a drunken man; and he began to sing, hiccuping all the time, staggering from side to side, yawning, spitting, and then standing still and pretending to be sick. But all the time he was keeping his eyes wide open, and peering this way and that, for he had heard the sharp sound as of a wolf howling. Then, as he stood there vomiting like a dog, he descried the long outline of a wolf moving towards the cemetery in the bright light of the moon.At that he lurched on again, and came into the path between the hedges of broom. There he pretended to fall down, and as he did so, he placed his trap upon the side from which the wolf was coming. Then he loaded his crossbow, and went forward about ten paces, standing up again in a drunken posture. He still went on staggering to right and to left, nor did he cease to retch and to hiccup, but all the time his mind was taut as a bowstring, and he was all eyes and ears for what might be going to happen. Yet he saw nothing save the dark clouds racing in the sky, and again that large and heavy form of blackness coming down the path towards him. Neither did he hear aught but the dismal wailing of the wind, and the angry thunder of the sea, and the sound that the shells on the path gave forth beneath a heavy step that tapped upon them. Feigning to be about to sit down, Ulenspiegel fell forwards on to the path, very heavily like a drunken man. After that he heard as it were a piece of iron clinking close to his ear, and then the sound of the trap shutting, and a human voice that cried out in the darkness.“The werwolf,” said Ulenspiegel to himself. “He’s got his front paws caught in the trap. Now he is howling and trying to run away, dragging the trap with him. But heshall not escape.” And he drew his crossbow and shot an arrow at the legs of the werwolf.“He’s wounded now,” said Ulenspiegel, “and he has fallen down.”Thereupon he whistled like a seagull, and straightway the church bell clanged out from the village and a boy’s shrill voice was heard crying from afar off:“Awake! Awake, you sleepers! The werwolf is caught.”“Praise be to God,” said Ulenspiegel.Now the first to arrive on the scene of the capture were Toria the mother of Betkin, and Lansaen her husband, and her two brothers Josse and Michael. And they brought lanterns with them.“You have caught him?” they asked.“Look on the path,” answered Ulenspiegel.“Praise be to God,” they exclaimed, crossing themselves.“Who is it that is calling out the news in the village?” asked Ulenspiegel.“It is my eldest boy,” Lansaen answered. “The youngster is running through the village knocking on all the doors and crying out that the wolf is caught. Praise be to thee!”“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.Suddenly the werwolf began to speak:“Have mercy on me! Have mercy, Ulenspiegel!”“This wolf can talk!” they exclaimed, crossing themselves again. “He is a devil in very truth, and knows Ulenspiegel’s name already!”“Have mercy! Have mercy!” the voice cried again. “I am no wolf. Order the bell to stop ringing. For thus it is that it tolls for the dead. And my wrists are torn by the trap. I am old and I am bleeding. Have mercy! And what is this—this shrill voice of a child awakening all the village? Oh pray, have mercy!”“I have heard your voice before,” said Ulenspiegel passionately. “You are the fishmonger. The murderer of Claes, the vampire that preys upon poor maids! Have no fear, good mother and father. This is none other than the Dean of the Fishmongers on whose account poor Soetkin died of grief.” And with one hand he held the man fast by the neck, and with the other he drew out his cutlass.But Toria the mother of Betkin prevented him.“Take him alive,” cried she. “Take him alive. Let him pay!”Meanwhile there were many fisherfolk, men and women of Heyst, who were come out at the news that the werwolf was taken and that he was no devil but a man. Some of these carried lanterns and flaming torches, and all of them cried aloud when they saw him:“Thief! Murderer! Where hide you the gold that you have stolen from your poor victims?”“He shall repay it all,” said Toria. And she would have beaten him in her rage had she not fallen down there and then upon the sand in a mad fury like unto one dead. And they left her there until she came to herself.And Ulenspiegel, sad at heart, beheld the clouds racing like mad things in the sky, and out at sea the white crests of the waves, and on the ground at his feet the white face of the fishmonger that looked up at him in the light of the lantern with cruel eyes. And the ashes beat upon his heart.And they walked for four hours, and came to Damme where was a great crowd assembled that already was aware of what had happened. Every one desired to see the fishmonger, and they pressed round the fishermen and fisherwives, crying out and singing and dancing and saying: “The werwolf is caught! He is caught, the murderer! Blessed be Ulenspiegel! Long live our brother Ulenspiegel!—Lange leveonzenbroeder Ulenspiegel.” And it was like a popular rising. And when the crowd passed in front of the bailiff’shouse, he came out, hearing the noise, and said to Ulenspiegel:“You are the conqueror; all praise to you!”“It was the ashes of Claes that beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.Then the bailiff said:“Half the murderer’s fortune shall be yours.”“Let it be given to his victims,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now Lamme and Nele were there too—Nele laughing and crying with joy and kissing her lover; Lamme jumping heavily and striking his belly while he cried out at the same time:“Brave, trusty, and true! My comrade, my well-beloved! You cannot match him anywhere, you other men of the flat country.”But the fisherfolk laughed and made mock of Lamme.XXVIThe great bell, theBorgstorm, rang out on the morrow to summon to theVierscharethe aldermen and the clerks of the court. There they sat on four banks of turf under the noble lime-tree which was called the Tree of Justice. And round about stood the common people. When he was examined the fishmonger would confess nothing. All he did was to repeat continually:“I am poor and old, have mercy upon me.”But the people howled at him, saying:“You are an old wolf, destroyer of children; have no pity, sir judges.”“Let him pay! Let him pay!” cried Toria.But the fishmonger entreated again most piteously:“I am poor. Leave me alone.”Then, since he would not say anything of his own free will, he was condemned to be tortured until he should confess how he had committed the murders, whence he came, andwhere he had hidden the remains of the victims and their money.So now he was brought to the torture chamber, and on his feet were put the iron shoes of torture, and the bailiff asked him how it was that Satan had inspired him with designs so black and crimes so abominable. Then at last he made answer:“Satan is myself, my essential nature. Even as a child, ugly as I was and unskilled in all bodily exercises, I was regarded as a simpleton by every one and was continually being beaten. Neither girl nor boy had any pity for me, and as I grew up no woman would have anything to do with me, not even for payment. So I conceived a hatred for the whole human race, and for this reason I betrayed the man Claes who was beloved by all. Thereafter I was attracted more than ever by the idea of living like a wolf, and I dreamed of tearing flesh with my teeth. And I killed two wolves in the woods of Raveschoet and Maldeghem, and I sewed together their two skins as a covering. And by day and by night I wandered along the sand-dunes, and especially on Saturdays—the day of the market at Bruges.”Then the bailiff said:“Repent and pray to God.”But the fishmonger blasphemed, saying:“It is God himself who willed me to be as I am. I did all in spite of myself, led on by the will of nature. Evil tigers that you are, you will punish me unjustly.”But he was condemned to die the death, and Toria cried aloud: “Justice is done. He shall pay the penalty.”And all the people cried:“Langlevede Heeren van de wet!—Long live the Officers of the Law!”The next morning at early dawn, as they were bringing him to the place of punishment, he saw Ulenspiegel standing near the pile and he pointed his finger at him, crying:“There is a man who ought to die no less than I. For ten years ago it was that he threw me into the Damme canal because I had denounced his father. But in that I had acted as a loyal subject to His Most Catholic Majesty.”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.“For you also the bells are tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel. “You will be hanged. For you have committed murder.”“Is this true?” demanded the bailiff.Ulenspiegel answered:“I threw into the water the man who denounced Claes and was the cause of his death. The ashes of my father beat upon my heart.”And the women that were in the crowd said to him:“Why confess it, Ulenspiegel? No one saw the deed. But now you also will die the death.”And the prisoner laughed aloud, leaping in the air with a bitter joy.“He will die,” he said. “He will leave this earth for hell. He will die. God is just.”“He shall not die,” said the bailiff, “for after the lapse of ten years no murderer can lawfully be brought to punishment in the land of Flanders. Ulenspiegel did a wicked act, but it was done for love of his father: and for such a deed as that Ulenspiegel shall not be summoned to trial.”“Long live the law!” cried the crowd. “Langlevede wet!”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. And the prisoner ground his teeth and hung his head, and now for the first time he let fall a tear. And his hand was cut off and his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, and he was burned alive in a slow fire in front of the Town Hall.And Toria cried out:“He is paying the penalty! He is paying the penalty! See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hairof a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.”

XXIIIAt Harlebeke Lamme renewed his provision ofoliekoekjes, eating seven-and-twenty of them on the spot and putting thirty away into his basket. The same evening they came to Courtrai and dismounted from their donkeys at the tavern of the Bee that was kept by one Gilis Van den Ende, who himself came to the inn door as soon as he heard the singing of the lark.At once the new arrivals found that everything was made like sugar and honey for them; for mine host, as soon as he had seen the letter from the Prince, presented Ulenspiegel with fifty caroluses on the Prince’s behalf, nor would he accept any payment at all for the turkey which he served for their dinner, nor yet for thedobbel clauwaertwhich he gave them to drink. He warned them also that there were many spies in Courtrai, and that it behoved both Ulenspiegel and his companion to keep a close watch on what they said during their stay in the city.“We shall be careful,” said Ulenspiegel and Lamme. And so saying they came out of the tavern.The gables of the houses were all gilded in the rays of the setting sun. The birds sang in the lime-trees, and Lamme and Ulenspiegel wandered at their ease along the streets of the town. All at once Lamme said:“I asked Martin Van den Ende if by chance he had seen any one at all resembling my wife in Courtrai, and he told me that there were a number of women that were accustomed to meet together of an evening at the sign of the Rainbow, a house that is kept by a woman called La Stevenyne, just outside the town on the road to Bruges. I shall go there.”“I will meet you anon,” said Ulenspiegel. “But now I would see the sights of the town. If I meet your wife I will send her on to you. Meanwhile remember what the innkeeper said, and keep your own counsel if you value your own skin.”“I will be careful,” said Lamme.Ulenspiegel walked about by himself till the sun set and night began to come on quickly. He had come to thePierpot-Straetje—the Alley of the Pot of Stone—and there he heard the sound of a viola being played most melodiously, and presently he noticed a white figure that beckoned to him from a distance, then retreated, playing the viola all the time. It was a woman, and she sang like a seraphim, a sweet, slow song, stopping now and then to look behind her with a beckoning gesture, then retreating again. But Ulenspiegel ran quickly and overtook her, and was about to speak to her when she sealed his lips with a hand all scented with benjamin.“Are you a working man or a nobleman?” she asked.“I am Ulenspiegel.”“Are you rich?”“Rich enough for you.”“But you have not seen me!” And she opened the lantern she carried so as to let the light shine straight upon her face.“You are beautiful,” said Ulenspiegel.“Then come with me,” she said.And she brought him to the house of La Stevenyne, on the road to Bruges, at the sign of the Rainbow.They entered a large room where a great number of girls were assembled, who all looked up jealously at Ulenspiegel’s companion as she came in. And suddenly Ulenspiegel saw Lamme, sitting there in a corner by a little table whereon was a candle, a ham, and a pot of beer. By his side were a couple of girls, who were endeavouring to get a share in the ham and the beer; but Lamme was trying to prevent them. As soon as he noticed Ulenspiegel he jumped up, crying:“Blessed be God who has given back to me my friend! Bring more drink,baesine!”At this Ulenspiegel drew out his purse, saying:“Yes, bring us to drink to the value of what is in here!” and he jingled the money that was in the purse.“No, by heaven!” cried Lamme, seizing the purse. “It’s I that shall pay, not you.”Ulenspiegel would have recovered the purse by force, but Lamme kept tight hold. As they were struggling together, the one to keep the purse, the other to get it back again, Lamme whispered by fits and starts into Ulenspiegel’s ear:“Listen.Constables. Here ... four of them ... in the little room with three girls.Two outside waiting for you and for me.... I tried to go out ... prevented.... The girl over there in the brocaded gown is a spy ... Stevenyne a spy!”And all the time they were fighting Ulenspiegel listened attentively, though he kept on crying aloud:“Give me back my purse, you rascal!”And they seized each other by the neck and by the shoulders, and rolled together on the floor, while Lamme went on with his tidings to Ulenspiegel. Suddenly there appeared on the scene mine host of the tavern of the Bee; and he was followed by seven other men, with whom, however, he apparently had no connexion. As he came in he crowed like a cock and Ulenspiegel whistled like a lark. Then, seeing Ulenspiegel and Lamme still struggling on the floor, he inquired of La Stevenyne who they might be. “Two rascals,” she told him, “who ought to be parted from each other instead of being allowed to make all this disturbance ere they are brought to the gallows.”“If any one tries to separate us,” said Ulenspiegel, “we will make him eat of these paving-stones.”“Yes,” said Lamme, “we will make him eat these paving-stones!”Then Ulenspiegel whispered something in Lamme’s ear. “The innkeeper is come to rescue us.” And presently the innkeeper, who must have divined some mystery was afoot,joined themêléeon the floor with his head down, and Lamme attacked him in the ear with these words:“You have come to rescue us? How will you do it?”The innkeeper made pretence of pulling Ulenspiegel by the ears, but managed to say to him the while, under his breath:“These seven men are on your side ... they are strong men ... butchers.... I must be off ... too well known in the town ... but when I have gone....’T is van te beven de klinkaert.... Break up everything....”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel, rising at the same time from the floor and kicking out at the innkeeper. The latter struck Ulenspiegel in his turn and Ulenspiegel said:“You hit hard, my hearty!”“As hard as a hail-storm,” said the innkeeper. And quickly seizing the purse from Lamme he handed it back to Ulenspiegel.“You may stand me a drink, you rogue, now you are come into your right mind again.”“I’ll stand you one, you scandalous scamp,” replied Ulenspiegel.“See how insolent he is,” said La Stevenyne.“As insolent as you are beautiful,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now La Stevenyne was sixty years old at least, and her face was like the fruit of the medlar, but all yellow with bile, and she had a large port-wine stain on her left cheek.When the innkeeper had had his drink, he paid the bill and departed. The seven butchers meanwhile made sundry knowing grimaces at the constables and La Stevenyne. One of them indicated by a gesture that he held Ulenspiegel for a simpleton, and that he would be able to do for him very easily. But all the time that he was putting out his tongue in mockery to La Stevenyne, who herself was grinning and laughing, he whispered in Ulenspiegel’s ear:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert—it is time to rattle theglasses.” Then, in his ordinary tone of voice, and pointing at the constables:“Gentle Reformer,” he said, “we are all on your side. Stand us some food and drink, won’t you?”And La Stevenyne laughed with pleasure, and put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel when his back was turned. And La Gilline, she of the brocaded gown, she also put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel, and the girls all began to whisper one to another: “Behold the spy that by her beauty draweth men to the torture and bringeth them at last to a death more cruel even than torture. Above seven-and-twenty Protestants hath she betrayed already. Gilline is her name, and now she is in a rapture of joy as she thinks of the reward she will get for her information—the first hundred caroluses, to wit, from the estate of each of her victims. But she will not laugh when she bethinketh her that she must share one-half of the spoil with La Stevenyne!”And every one there present—the constables, the butchers, and the girls themselves—put out their tongues in mockery of Ulenspiegel. And Lamme sweated great drops of sweat, and became red with anger like the crest of a cock. But he would not let himself say a word.“Come, stand us food and drink,” said the butchers and the constables.“Very well,” said Ulenspiegel, jingling yet again the money in his purse. “Bring us meat and drink, my sweet Stevenyne; bring us drink in glasses that can sing!”At this the girls began to laugh anew; but La Stevenyne went down to the cellar and brought back with her ham, sausages, black-pudding omelettes, and some of those singing glasses, that are so called because they are mounted on tall stems and can be made to resound like a bell when some one strikes them. Then Ulenspiegel said:“Let him who is hungry eat, and he who is thirsty let him drink!” And the constables, the girls, the butchers, Gilline,and La Stevenyne applauded these words of Ulenspiegel, clapping their hands and stamping their feet; and then they all sat down to the feast. Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the seven butchers sat at the big table of honour, the constables and the girls at two smaller tables; and they ate and drank right heartily. And the constables invited their two comrades, who had been waiting outside the house, to come in and join them.La Stevenyne said with a snigger:“Remember, no one can leave till he has paid me.”And she went and locked all the doors, and put the keys in her pocket.At this La Gilline raised her glass.“The bird is in its cage,” she cried. “Let us drink.”But two of the girls, whose names were Gena and Margot, said to her:“Is this yet another man that you are going to lure to his death, you wicked one?”“I know not,” said Gilline; “let us drink.”But the girls would not drink with her.And Gilline took her viola and sang in French this song:Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.As she sang this song La Gilline looked so beautiful, so soft and fragrant, that all the men, the constables and the butchers, Lamme and Ulenspiegel himself, sat smiling there, quite melted and overcome by her charm.All at once La Gilline gave a loud laugh and fixed her gaze on Ulenspiegel:“And it’s thus that the birds are caged,” she said. And the spell of her charm was broken.Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the butchers looked at one another.“Well now,” said La Stevenyne, “are you going to pay the bill, my Lord Ulenspiegel?”“We shall pay nothing in advance,” said he.“Then I shall pay myself later on—out of your inheritance,” said La Stevenyne. After that:“Let us drink!” she cried.“Let us drink!” cried the constables.“Let us drink!” cried La Stevenyne. “The doors are shut; the windows are strongly barred; the birds are in their cage. Let us drink!”“Let us drink then,” said Ulenspiegel. “And bring us wine of the best to crown the banquet.”La Stevenyne brought in more wine. And now they were all seated, drinking and eating, the constables and the girls together. But the seven butchers were at the same tablewith Ulenspiegel and Lamme, and they kept on throwing pieces of ham, and sausages, omelettes, and bottles of wine to the table of the girls, who themselves caught the food in mid-flight as carp catch the flies that buzz on the surface of a fishpond. And La Stevenyne laughed and grinned, and pointed to the packets of candles which hung over the counter. And these were the candles that the gay girls were used to purchase, five to the pound. Then La Stevenyne said to Ulenspiegel:“On his way to the stake it is the custom for the condemned man to carry a wax candle. Shall I make you a present of one?”“Let us drink!” said Ulenspiegel.But La Gilline said: “Look at Ulenspiegel’s eyes. They are shining like the eyes of a swan that is about to die.”“Wouldn’t you like to eat one of the candles?” said La Stevenyne. “They would serve you in hell to lighten your eternal damnation.”“I see clearly enough to admire your ugly mug,” said Ulenspiegel.Suddenly he struck the stem of his wine-glass and clapped his hands together with a rhythm like that an upholsterer uses when he beats the wool of a mattress with his stick.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” he said; “it is time to make the glasses shiver—the glasses which resound....”And this, in Flanders, is the signal that the drinkers make when they are angry, and when they are like to ransack and despoil in their wrath the houses of ill fame. So even now did Ulenspiegel raise his glass and drink, and then did he made it vibrate upon the table, crying yet again:“’T isvan tebeven de klinkaert.”And the seven butchers did likewise.Then a great stillness fell upon the company. La Gilline grew pale; La Stevenyne looked astonished. The constables said:“Are the seven with them too?” But the butchers winked their eyes and reassured them; yet all the time they continued without ceasing, and louder and louder as Ulenspiegel led them:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”La Stevenyne took another draught of wine to give herself courage.Then Ulenspiegel struck his fist on the table in that regular rhythm which the upholsterers use as they beat their mattresses; and the seven did likewise; and the glasses, jugs, trenchers, flagons, and goblets began to dance upon the table, slowly at first, but beginning soon to knock against each other, and to break and to heel over on one side as they fell. And all the time echoed and re-echoed, more sternly menacing, with every monotonous repetition:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“Alas!” said La Stevenyne, “they will break everything.” And her teeth seemed to show farther out from her lips than ever. And the hot blood of their fury and of their anger began to flame in the souls of the seven butchers, and in the souls of Lamme and Ulenspiegel. Till at last, without ceasing once their melancholy and monotonous chant, all they that were sitting at Ulenspiegel’s table took their glasses, and brake them upon the table, and at the same moment they drew their cutlasses and leapt upon the chairs. And they made such a din with their song that all the windows in the house shook. Then like a band of infuriated devils they went round the room, visiting each table in turn, crying without ceasing:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”And the constables rose up trembling with terror and seized their ropes and chains. But the butchers, together with Lamme and Ulenspiegel, thrust their knives quickly back into their cases, and sprang up to run nimbly throughthe chamber, hitting out right and left with their chairs as though they had been cudgels. And they spared nothing there except the girls, for everything else they brake in pieces—furniture, windows, chests, plates, pots, trenchers, glasses, and flagons, hitting out at the constables without mercy, and crying out all the time in the rhythm of the mattress-beaters: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” And Ulenspiegel, who had given La Stevenyne a blow on the nose with his fist, and had taken all her keys and put them into his satchel, was now amusing himself by forcing her to eat those candles of hers. And the girls laughed at the sight of her as she sneezed with anger and tried to spit out the candles—but in vain, for her mouth was too full. And all the time Ulenspiegel and the seven butchers did not cease the rhythm of their dire refrain: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” But at last Ulenspiegel made a sign, and when silence had at last been restored he spake, saying:“You are here, my friends, in our power. It is a dark night and the River Lys is close at hand, where a man drowns easily if he is once pushed in. And the gates of Courtrai are shut.” Then turning to the seven butchers:“You are bound for Peteghen, to join the Beggarmen?”“We were ready to go there when the news came to us that you were here.”“And from Peteghen you were going to the sea?”“Yes,” they said.“Do you think there are one or two among these constables whom it would be safe to release for our service?”“There are two,” they said, “Niklaes and Joos by name, who have never as yet been guilty of persecuting the poor Reformers.”“You can trust us!” said Niklaes and Joos.“Very well then,” said Ulenspiegel. “Here are twenty caroluses for you, twice as much, that is, as you would havegot for an act of shameful betrayal.” And at that the other five constables cried out as one man:“Twenty florins! We will serve the Prince for twenty florins. The King’s pay is bad. Only give us half as much and we will tell the judge any tale you please.” But Lamme and the butchers kept muttering under their breath:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“In order that you may be kept from too much talking,” Ulenspiegel continued, “the seven will lead you in handcuffs to Peteghen, and there you will be given over into the hands of the Beggarmen. The florins will be handed to you at sea, and if you prove brave in battle you will have your share of the spoil. If you attempt to desert you will be hanged.”“We will serve him who pays us,” they said.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” murmured the seven.“You will also take with you,” said Ulenspiegel, “La Gilline, La Stevenyne and the girls. If any one of them tries to escape you will sew her in a sack and throw her into the river.”“He has not killed me yet!” cried La Gilline, jumping up from her corner and brandishing her viola in the air. And she began to sing:Sanglant était mon rêve.Le rêve de mon cœur.Je suis la fille d’EveEt de Satan vainqueur.But La Stevenyne and the others seemed as if they were going to cry.“Do not be afraid, my sweets,” said Ulenspiegel. “You are so pretty and so tender that all men will love to caress you wherever you go, and after every victory you will have yourshare in the spoils.” But the three girls turned upon La Gilline:“You that were her daughter, her breadwinner, sharing with La Stevenyne the shameful rewards of her espionage, do you still dare to flaunt yourself before us and to insult us with your dress of brocade? Verily it is the blood of the victims and nothing else that has clothed you so richly. But now let us take her dress from her, so she may be like to us.”“That shall not be,” said Ulenspiegel.And the girls looked jealously at Ulenspiegel, saying:“He is mad about her, like all the rest.”And La Gilline played upon her viola and sang, and the seven butchers departed for Peteghen, taking with them the constables and the girls. And they passed along by the River Lys. And as they went they kept muttering:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert!” And at break of day they came to the camp, and sang out like the lark and were answered straightway by a cockcrow. The girls and the constables were put under a strong guard, but in spite of these precautions La Gilline was found dead at noon on the third day, her heart pierced by a long needle. The three girls accused La Stevenyne of having done this deed, and she was brought before the captain. There she confessed that she had committed the crime out of jealousy and anger at the way the girl had treated her. And La Stevenyne was hanged and buried in the wood.La Gilline also was buried, and prayers were said over her sweet body.XXIVWarm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about.From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”The master charcoal-burner answered:“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many timesand again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:“Where have I seen this fat man?”“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.XXVNow, in those days a damsel some fifteen years of age was going from Heyst to Knokke, alone in the middle of the day, by the sand-dunes. No one had any fear for her for they knew that the wolves and wicked spirits of the damned go biting their victims only in the night. The damsel carried a satchel wherein were forty-eight gold coins of the value of four florins carolus, being the sum owed by the girl’s mother, Toria Pieterson, who lived at Heyst, to her uncle, Jan Rapen of Knokke, on account of a sale. The girl’s name was Betkin,and she was wearing her best clothes, and she went on her way most happily.The same evening, seeing that she did not return, her mother became anxious, but reassured herself with the thought that the girl must have stayed the night with her uncle.On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at theMinqueof Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself!Covering the girl’s body with anopperst-kleedthey brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders.The Death of BetkinThe Death of BetkinAnd in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made.But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: “I will go and kill the werwolf.”“What gives you this confidence?” asked the bailiff.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” Ulenspiegel replied. “Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune.”“Very well,” said the bailiff.Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge,and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts.On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme:“I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff.”Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him:“This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing.” Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said:“You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there.” And the curé crossed himself.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé said:“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will bedoing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”The curé said:“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound thewacharmon the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”Ulenspiegel answered:“The ashes beat upon my heart.”And the curé said to him:“I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?”“Both,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way.And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England.“Alas!” he cried, “O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on themurderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise.”And so saying he came down into the valley, stumbling as if he had been a drunken man; and he began to sing, hiccuping all the time, staggering from side to side, yawning, spitting, and then standing still and pretending to be sick. But all the time he was keeping his eyes wide open, and peering this way and that, for he had heard the sharp sound as of a wolf howling. Then, as he stood there vomiting like a dog, he descried the long outline of a wolf moving towards the cemetery in the bright light of the moon.At that he lurched on again, and came into the path between the hedges of broom. There he pretended to fall down, and as he did so, he placed his trap upon the side from which the wolf was coming. Then he loaded his crossbow, and went forward about ten paces, standing up again in a drunken posture. He still went on staggering to right and to left, nor did he cease to retch and to hiccup, but all the time his mind was taut as a bowstring, and he was all eyes and ears for what might be going to happen. Yet he saw nothing save the dark clouds racing in the sky, and again that large and heavy form of blackness coming down the path towards him. Neither did he hear aught but the dismal wailing of the wind, and the angry thunder of the sea, and the sound that the shells on the path gave forth beneath a heavy step that tapped upon them. Feigning to be about to sit down, Ulenspiegel fell forwards on to the path, very heavily like a drunken man. After that he heard as it were a piece of iron clinking close to his ear, and then the sound of the trap shutting, and a human voice that cried out in the darkness.“The werwolf,” said Ulenspiegel to himself. “He’s got his front paws caught in the trap. Now he is howling and trying to run away, dragging the trap with him. But heshall not escape.” And he drew his crossbow and shot an arrow at the legs of the werwolf.“He’s wounded now,” said Ulenspiegel, “and he has fallen down.”Thereupon he whistled like a seagull, and straightway the church bell clanged out from the village and a boy’s shrill voice was heard crying from afar off:“Awake! Awake, you sleepers! The werwolf is caught.”“Praise be to God,” said Ulenspiegel.Now the first to arrive on the scene of the capture were Toria the mother of Betkin, and Lansaen her husband, and her two brothers Josse and Michael. And they brought lanterns with them.“You have caught him?” they asked.“Look on the path,” answered Ulenspiegel.“Praise be to God,” they exclaimed, crossing themselves.“Who is it that is calling out the news in the village?” asked Ulenspiegel.“It is my eldest boy,” Lansaen answered. “The youngster is running through the village knocking on all the doors and crying out that the wolf is caught. Praise be to thee!”“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.Suddenly the werwolf began to speak:“Have mercy on me! Have mercy, Ulenspiegel!”“This wolf can talk!” they exclaimed, crossing themselves again. “He is a devil in very truth, and knows Ulenspiegel’s name already!”“Have mercy! Have mercy!” the voice cried again. “I am no wolf. Order the bell to stop ringing. For thus it is that it tolls for the dead. And my wrists are torn by the trap. I am old and I am bleeding. Have mercy! And what is this—this shrill voice of a child awakening all the village? Oh pray, have mercy!”“I have heard your voice before,” said Ulenspiegel passionately. “You are the fishmonger. The murderer of Claes, the vampire that preys upon poor maids! Have no fear, good mother and father. This is none other than the Dean of the Fishmongers on whose account poor Soetkin died of grief.” And with one hand he held the man fast by the neck, and with the other he drew out his cutlass.But Toria the mother of Betkin prevented him.“Take him alive,” cried she. “Take him alive. Let him pay!”Meanwhile there were many fisherfolk, men and women of Heyst, who were come out at the news that the werwolf was taken and that he was no devil but a man. Some of these carried lanterns and flaming torches, and all of them cried aloud when they saw him:“Thief! Murderer! Where hide you the gold that you have stolen from your poor victims?”“He shall repay it all,” said Toria. And she would have beaten him in her rage had she not fallen down there and then upon the sand in a mad fury like unto one dead. And they left her there until she came to herself.And Ulenspiegel, sad at heart, beheld the clouds racing like mad things in the sky, and out at sea the white crests of the waves, and on the ground at his feet the white face of the fishmonger that looked up at him in the light of the lantern with cruel eyes. And the ashes beat upon his heart.And they walked for four hours, and came to Damme where was a great crowd assembled that already was aware of what had happened. Every one desired to see the fishmonger, and they pressed round the fishermen and fisherwives, crying out and singing and dancing and saying: “The werwolf is caught! He is caught, the murderer! Blessed be Ulenspiegel! Long live our brother Ulenspiegel!—Lange leveonzenbroeder Ulenspiegel.” And it was like a popular rising. And when the crowd passed in front of the bailiff’shouse, he came out, hearing the noise, and said to Ulenspiegel:“You are the conqueror; all praise to you!”“It was the ashes of Claes that beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.Then the bailiff said:“Half the murderer’s fortune shall be yours.”“Let it be given to his victims,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now Lamme and Nele were there too—Nele laughing and crying with joy and kissing her lover; Lamme jumping heavily and striking his belly while he cried out at the same time:“Brave, trusty, and true! My comrade, my well-beloved! You cannot match him anywhere, you other men of the flat country.”But the fisherfolk laughed and made mock of Lamme.XXVIThe great bell, theBorgstorm, rang out on the morrow to summon to theVierscharethe aldermen and the clerks of the court. There they sat on four banks of turf under the noble lime-tree which was called the Tree of Justice. And round about stood the common people. When he was examined the fishmonger would confess nothing. All he did was to repeat continually:“I am poor and old, have mercy upon me.”But the people howled at him, saying:“You are an old wolf, destroyer of children; have no pity, sir judges.”“Let him pay! Let him pay!” cried Toria.But the fishmonger entreated again most piteously:“I am poor. Leave me alone.”Then, since he would not say anything of his own free will, he was condemned to be tortured until he should confess how he had committed the murders, whence he came, andwhere he had hidden the remains of the victims and their money.So now he was brought to the torture chamber, and on his feet were put the iron shoes of torture, and the bailiff asked him how it was that Satan had inspired him with designs so black and crimes so abominable. Then at last he made answer:“Satan is myself, my essential nature. Even as a child, ugly as I was and unskilled in all bodily exercises, I was regarded as a simpleton by every one and was continually being beaten. Neither girl nor boy had any pity for me, and as I grew up no woman would have anything to do with me, not even for payment. So I conceived a hatred for the whole human race, and for this reason I betrayed the man Claes who was beloved by all. Thereafter I was attracted more than ever by the idea of living like a wolf, and I dreamed of tearing flesh with my teeth. And I killed two wolves in the woods of Raveschoet and Maldeghem, and I sewed together their two skins as a covering. And by day and by night I wandered along the sand-dunes, and especially on Saturdays—the day of the market at Bruges.”Then the bailiff said:“Repent and pray to God.”But the fishmonger blasphemed, saying:“It is God himself who willed me to be as I am. I did all in spite of myself, led on by the will of nature. Evil tigers that you are, you will punish me unjustly.”But he was condemned to die the death, and Toria cried aloud: “Justice is done. He shall pay the penalty.”And all the people cried:“Langlevede Heeren van de wet!—Long live the Officers of the Law!”The next morning at early dawn, as they were bringing him to the place of punishment, he saw Ulenspiegel standing near the pile and he pointed his finger at him, crying:“There is a man who ought to die no less than I. For ten years ago it was that he threw me into the Damme canal because I had denounced his father. But in that I had acted as a loyal subject to His Most Catholic Majesty.”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.“For you also the bells are tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel. “You will be hanged. For you have committed murder.”“Is this true?” demanded the bailiff.Ulenspiegel answered:“I threw into the water the man who denounced Claes and was the cause of his death. The ashes of my father beat upon my heart.”And the women that were in the crowd said to him:“Why confess it, Ulenspiegel? No one saw the deed. But now you also will die the death.”And the prisoner laughed aloud, leaping in the air with a bitter joy.“He will die,” he said. “He will leave this earth for hell. He will die. God is just.”“He shall not die,” said the bailiff, “for after the lapse of ten years no murderer can lawfully be brought to punishment in the land of Flanders. Ulenspiegel did a wicked act, but it was done for love of his father: and for such a deed as that Ulenspiegel shall not be summoned to trial.”“Long live the law!” cried the crowd. “Langlevede wet!”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. And the prisoner ground his teeth and hung his head, and now for the first time he let fall a tear. And his hand was cut off and his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, and he was burned alive in a slow fire in front of the Town Hall.And Toria cried out:“He is paying the penalty! He is paying the penalty! See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hairof a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.”

XXIIIAt Harlebeke Lamme renewed his provision ofoliekoekjes, eating seven-and-twenty of them on the spot and putting thirty away into his basket. The same evening they came to Courtrai and dismounted from their donkeys at the tavern of the Bee that was kept by one Gilis Van den Ende, who himself came to the inn door as soon as he heard the singing of the lark.At once the new arrivals found that everything was made like sugar and honey for them; for mine host, as soon as he had seen the letter from the Prince, presented Ulenspiegel with fifty caroluses on the Prince’s behalf, nor would he accept any payment at all for the turkey which he served for their dinner, nor yet for thedobbel clauwaertwhich he gave them to drink. He warned them also that there were many spies in Courtrai, and that it behoved both Ulenspiegel and his companion to keep a close watch on what they said during their stay in the city.“We shall be careful,” said Ulenspiegel and Lamme. And so saying they came out of the tavern.The gables of the houses were all gilded in the rays of the setting sun. The birds sang in the lime-trees, and Lamme and Ulenspiegel wandered at their ease along the streets of the town. All at once Lamme said:“I asked Martin Van den Ende if by chance he had seen any one at all resembling my wife in Courtrai, and he told me that there were a number of women that were accustomed to meet together of an evening at the sign of the Rainbow, a house that is kept by a woman called La Stevenyne, just outside the town on the road to Bruges. I shall go there.”“I will meet you anon,” said Ulenspiegel. “But now I would see the sights of the town. If I meet your wife I will send her on to you. Meanwhile remember what the innkeeper said, and keep your own counsel if you value your own skin.”“I will be careful,” said Lamme.Ulenspiegel walked about by himself till the sun set and night began to come on quickly. He had come to thePierpot-Straetje—the Alley of the Pot of Stone—and there he heard the sound of a viola being played most melodiously, and presently he noticed a white figure that beckoned to him from a distance, then retreated, playing the viola all the time. It was a woman, and she sang like a seraphim, a sweet, slow song, stopping now and then to look behind her with a beckoning gesture, then retreating again. But Ulenspiegel ran quickly and overtook her, and was about to speak to her when she sealed his lips with a hand all scented with benjamin.“Are you a working man or a nobleman?” she asked.“I am Ulenspiegel.”“Are you rich?”“Rich enough for you.”“But you have not seen me!” And she opened the lantern she carried so as to let the light shine straight upon her face.“You are beautiful,” said Ulenspiegel.“Then come with me,” she said.And she brought him to the house of La Stevenyne, on the road to Bruges, at the sign of the Rainbow.They entered a large room where a great number of girls were assembled, who all looked up jealously at Ulenspiegel’s companion as she came in. And suddenly Ulenspiegel saw Lamme, sitting there in a corner by a little table whereon was a candle, a ham, and a pot of beer. By his side were a couple of girls, who were endeavouring to get a share in the ham and the beer; but Lamme was trying to prevent them. As soon as he noticed Ulenspiegel he jumped up, crying:“Blessed be God who has given back to me my friend! Bring more drink,baesine!”At this Ulenspiegel drew out his purse, saying:“Yes, bring us to drink to the value of what is in here!” and he jingled the money that was in the purse.“No, by heaven!” cried Lamme, seizing the purse. “It’s I that shall pay, not you.”Ulenspiegel would have recovered the purse by force, but Lamme kept tight hold. As they were struggling together, the one to keep the purse, the other to get it back again, Lamme whispered by fits and starts into Ulenspiegel’s ear:“Listen.Constables. Here ... four of them ... in the little room with three girls.Two outside waiting for you and for me.... I tried to go out ... prevented.... The girl over there in the brocaded gown is a spy ... Stevenyne a spy!”And all the time they were fighting Ulenspiegel listened attentively, though he kept on crying aloud:“Give me back my purse, you rascal!”And they seized each other by the neck and by the shoulders, and rolled together on the floor, while Lamme went on with his tidings to Ulenspiegel. Suddenly there appeared on the scene mine host of the tavern of the Bee; and he was followed by seven other men, with whom, however, he apparently had no connexion. As he came in he crowed like a cock and Ulenspiegel whistled like a lark. Then, seeing Ulenspiegel and Lamme still struggling on the floor, he inquired of La Stevenyne who they might be. “Two rascals,” she told him, “who ought to be parted from each other instead of being allowed to make all this disturbance ere they are brought to the gallows.”“If any one tries to separate us,” said Ulenspiegel, “we will make him eat of these paving-stones.”“Yes,” said Lamme, “we will make him eat these paving-stones!”Then Ulenspiegel whispered something in Lamme’s ear. “The innkeeper is come to rescue us.” And presently the innkeeper, who must have divined some mystery was afoot,joined themêléeon the floor with his head down, and Lamme attacked him in the ear with these words:“You have come to rescue us? How will you do it?”The innkeeper made pretence of pulling Ulenspiegel by the ears, but managed to say to him the while, under his breath:“These seven men are on your side ... they are strong men ... butchers.... I must be off ... too well known in the town ... but when I have gone....’T is van te beven de klinkaert.... Break up everything....”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel, rising at the same time from the floor and kicking out at the innkeeper. The latter struck Ulenspiegel in his turn and Ulenspiegel said:“You hit hard, my hearty!”“As hard as a hail-storm,” said the innkeeper. And quickly seizing the purse from Lamme he handed it back to Ulenspiegel.“You may stand me a drink, you rogue, now you are come into your right mind again.”“I’ll stand you one, you scandalous scamp,” replied Ulenspiegel.“See how insolent he is,” said La Stevenyne.“As insolent as you are beautiful,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now La Stevenyne was sixty years old at least, and her face was like the fruit of the medlar, but all yellow with bile, and she had a large port-wine stain on her left cheek.When the innkeeper had had his drink, he paid the bill and departed. The seven butchers meanwhile made sundry knowing grimaces at the constables and La Stevenyne. One of them indicated by a gesture that he held Ulenspiegel for a simpleton, and that he would be able to do for him very easily. But all the time that he was putting out his tongue in mockery to La Stevenyne, who herself was grinning and laughing, he whispered in Ulenspiegel’s ear:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert—it is time to rattle theglasses.” Then, in his ordinary tone of voice, and pointing at the constables:“Gentle Reformer,” he said, “we are all on your side. Stand us some food and drink, won’t you?”And La Stevenyne laughed with pleasure, and put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel when his back was turned. And La Gilline, she of the brocaded gown, she also put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel, and the girls all began to whisper one to another: “Behold the spy that by her beauty draweth men to the torture and bringeth them at last to a death more cruel even than torture. Above seven-and-twenty Protestants hath she betrayed already. Gilline is her name, and now she is in a rapture of joy as she thinks of the reward she will get for her information—the first hundred caroluses, to wit, from the estate of each of her victims. But she will not laugh when she bethinketh her that she must share one-half of the spoil with La Stevenyne!”And every one there present—the constables, the butchers, and the girls themselves—put out their tongues in mockery of Ulenspiegel. And Lamme sweated great drops of sweat, and became red with anger like the crest of a cock. But he would not let himself say a word.“Come, stand us food and drink,” said the butchers and the constables.“Very well,” said Ulenspiegel, jingling yet again the money in his purse. “Bring us meat and drink, my sweet Stevenyne; bring us drink in glasses that can sing!”At this the girls began to laugh anew; but La Stevenyne went down to the cellar and brought back with her ham, sausages, black-pudding omelettes, and some of those singing glasses, that are so called because they are mounted on tall stems and can be made to resound like a bell when some one strikes them. Then Ulenspiegel said:“Let him who is hungry eat, and he who is thirsty let him drink!” And the constables, the girls, the butchers, Gilline,and La Stevenyne applauded these words of Ulenspiegel, clapping their hands and stamping their feet; and then they all sat down to the feast. Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the seven butchers sat at the big table of honour, the constables and the girls at two smaller tables; and they ate and drank right heartily. And the constables invited their two comrades, who had been waiting outside the house, to come in and join them.La Stevenyne said with a snigger:“Remember, no one can leave till he has paid me.”And she went and locked all the doors, and put the keys in her pocket.At this La Gilline raised her glass.“The bird is in its cage,” she cried. “Let us drink.”But two of the girls, whose names were Gena and Margot, said to her:“Is this yet another man that you are going to lure to his death, you wicked one?”“I know not,” said Gilline; “let us drink.”But the girls would not drink with her.And Gilline took her viola and sang in French this song:Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.As she sang this song La Gilline looked so beautiful, so soft and fragrant, that all the men, the constables and the butchers, Lamme and Ulenspiegel himself, sat smiling there, quite melted and overcome by her charm.All at once La Gilline gave a loud laugh and fixed her gaze on Ulenspiegel:“And it’s thus that the birds are caged,” she said. And the spell of her charm was broken.Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the butchers looked at one another.“Well now,” said La Stevenyne, “are you going to pay the bill, my Lord Ulenspiegel?”“We shall pay nothing in advance,” said he.“Then I shall pay myself later on—out of your inheritance,” said La Stevenyne. After that:“Let us drink!” she cried.“Let us drink!” cried the constables.“Let us drink!” cried La Stevenyne. “The doors are shut; the windows are strongly barred; the birds are in their cage. Let us drink!”“Let us drink then,” said Ulenspiegel. “And bring us wine of the best to crown the banquet.”La Stevenyne brought in more wine. And now they were all seated, drinking and eating, the constables and the girls together. But the seven butchers were at the same tablewith Ulenspiegel and Lamme, and they kept on throwing pieces of ham, and sausages, omelettes, and bottles of wine to the table of the girls, who themselves caught the food in mid-flight as carp catch the flies that buzz on the surface of a fishpond. And La Stevenyne laughed and grinned, and pointed to the packets of candles which hung over the counter. And these were the candles that the gay girls were used to purchase, five to the pound. Then La Stevenyne said to Ulenspiegel:“On his way to the stake it is the custom for the condemned man to carry a wax candle. Shall I make you a present of one?”“Let us drink!” said Ulenspiegel.But La Gilline said: “Look at Ulenspiegel’s eyes. They are shining like the eyes of a swan that is about to die.”“Wouldn’t you like to eat one of the candles?” said La Stevenyne. “They would serve you in hell to lighten your eternal damnation.”“I see clearly enough to admire your ugly mug,” said Ulenspiegel.Suddenly he struck the stem of his wine-glass and clapped his hands together with a rhythm like that an upholsterer uses when he beats the wool of a mattress with his stick.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” he said; “it is time to make the glasses shiver—the glasses which resound....”And this, in Flanders, is the signal that the drinkers make when they are angry, and when they are like to ransack and despoil in their wrath the houses of ill fame. So even now did Ulenspiegel raise his glass and drink, and then did he made it vibrate upon the table, crying yet again:“’T isvan tebeven de klinkaert.”And the seven butchers did likewise.Then a great stillness fell upon the company. La Gilline grew pale; La Stevenyne looked astonished. The constables said:“Are the seven with them too?” But the butchers winked their eyes and reassured them; yet all the time they continued without ceasing, and louder and louder as Ulenspiegel led them:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”La Stevenyne took another draught of wine to give herself courage.Then Ulenspiegel struck his fist on the table in that regular rhythm which the upholsterers use as they beat their mattresses; and the seven did likewise; and the glasses, jugs, trenchers, flagons, and goblets began to dance upon the table, slowly at first, but beginning soon to knock against each other, and to break and to heel over on one side as they fell. And all the time echoed and re-echoed, more sternly menacing, with every monotonous repetition:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“Alas!” said La Stevenyne, “they will break everything.” And her teeth seemed to show farther out from her lips than ever. And the hot blood of their fury and of their anger began to flame in the souls of the seven butchers, and in the souls of Lamme and Ulenspiegel. Till at last, without ceasing once their melancholy and monotonous chant, all they that were sitting at Ulenspiegel’s table took their glasses, and brake them upon the table, and at the same moment they drew their cutlasses and leapt upon the chairs. And they made such a din with their song that all the windows in the house shook. Then like a band of infuriated devils they went round the room, visiting each table in turn, crying without ceasing:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”And the constables rose up trembling with terror and seized their ropes and chains. But the butchers, together with Lamme and Ulenspiegel, thrust their knives quickly back into their cases, and sprang up to run nimbly throughthe chamber, hitting out right and left with their chairs as though they had been cudgels. And they spared nothing there except the girls, for everything else they brake in pieces—furniture, windows, chests, plates, pots, trenchers, glasses, and flagons, hitting out at the constables without mercy, and crying out all the time in the rhythm of the mattress-beaters: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” And Ulenspiegel, who had given La Stevenyne a blow on the nose with his fist, and had taken all her keys and put them into his satchel, was now amusing himself by forcing her to eat those candles of hers. And the girls laughed at the sight of her as she sneezed with anger and tried to spit out the candles—but in vain, for her mouth was too full. And all the time Ulenspiegel and the seven butchers did not cease the rhythm of their dire refrain: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” But at last Ulenspiegel made a sign, and when silence had at last been restored he spake, saying:“You are here, my friends, in our power. It is a dark night and the River Lys is close at hand, where a man drowns easily if he is once pushed in. And the gates of Courtrai are shut.” Then turning to the seven butchers:“You are bound for Peteghen, to join the Beggarmen?”“We were ready to go there when the news came to us that you were here.”“And from Peteghen you were going to the sea?”“Yes,” they said.“Do you think there are one or two among these constables whom it would be safe to release for our service?”“There are two,” they said, “Niklaes and Joos by name, who have never as yet been guilty of persecuting the poor Reformers.”“You can trust us!” said Niklaes and Joos.“Very well then,” said Ulenspiegel. “Here are twenty caroluses for you, twice as much, that is, as you would havegot for an act of shameful betrayal.” And at that the other five constables cried out as one man:“Twenty florins! We will serve the Prince for twenty florins. The King’s pay is bad. Only give us half as much and we will tell the judge any tale you please.” But Lamme and the butchers kept muttering under their breath:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“In order that you may be kept from too much talking,” Ulenspiegel continued, “the seven will lead you in handcuffs to Peteghen, and there you will be given over into the hands of the Beggarmen. The florins will be handed to you at sea, and if you prove brave in battle you will have your share of the spoil. If you attempt to desert you will be hanged.”“We will serve him who pays us,” they said.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” murmured the seven.“You will also take with you,” said Ulenspiegel, “La Gilline, La Stevenyne and the girls. If any one of them tries to escape you will sew her in a sack and throw her into the river.”“He has not killed me yet!” cried La Gilline, jumping up from her corner and brandishing her viola in the air. And she began to sing:Sanglant était mon rêve.Le rêve de mon cœur.Je suis la fille d’EveEt de Satan vainqueur.But La Stevenyne and the others seemed as if they were going to cry.“Do not be afraid, my sweets,” said Ulenspiegel. “You are so pretty and so tender that all men will love to caress you wherever you go, and after every victory you will have yourshare in the spoils.” But the three girls turned upon La Gilline:“You that were her daughter, her breadwinner, sharing with La Stevenyne the shameful rewards of her espionage, do you still dare to flaunt yourself before us and to insult us with your dress of brocade? Verily it is the blood of the victims and nothing else that has clothed you so richly. But now let us take her dress from her, so she may be like to us.”“That shall not be,” said Ulenspiegel.And the girls looked jealously at Ulenspiegel, saying:“He is mad about her, like all the rest.”And La Gilline played upon her viola and sang, and the seven butchers departed for Peteghen, taking with them the constables and the girls. And they passed along by the River Lys. And as they went they kept muttering:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert!” And at break of day they came to the camp, and sang out like the lark and were answered straightway by a cockcrow. The girls and the constables were put under a strong guard, but in spite of these precautions La Gilline was found dead at noon on the third day, her heart pierced by a long needle. The three girls accused La Stevenyne of having done this deed, and she was brought before the captain. There she confessed that she had committed the crime out of jealousy and anger at the way the girl had treated her. And La Stevenyne was hanged and buried in the wood.La Gilline also was buried, and prayers were said over her sweet body.XXIVWarm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about.From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”The master charcoal-burner answered:“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many timesand again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:“Where have I seen this fat man?”“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.XXVNow, in those days a damsel some fifteen years of age was going from Heyst to Knokke, alone in the middle of the day, by the sand-dunes. No one had any fear for her for they knew that the wolves and wicked spirits of the damned go biting their victims only in the night. The damsel carried a satchel wherein were forty-eight gold coins of the value of four florins carolus, being the sum owed by the girl’s mother, Toria Pieterson, who lived at Heyst, to her uncle, Jan Rapen of Knokke, on account of a sale. The girl’s name was Betkin,and she was wearing her best clothes, and she went on her way most happily.The same evening, seeing that she did not return, her mother became anxious, but reassured herself with the thought that the girl must have stayed the night with her uncle.On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at theMinqueof Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself!Covering the girl’s body with anopperst-kleedthey brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders.The Death of BetkinThe Death of BetkinAnd in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made.But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: “I will go and kill the werwolf.”“What gives you this confidence?” asked the bailiff.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” Ulenspiegel replied. “Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune.”“Very well,” said the bailiff.Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge,and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts.On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme:“I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff.”Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him:“This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing.” Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said:“You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there.” And the curé crossed himself.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé said:“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will bedoing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”The curé said:“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound thewacharmon the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”Ulenspiegel answered:“The ashes beat upon my heart.”And the curé said to him:“I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?”“Both,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way.And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England.“Alas!” he cried, “O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on themurderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise.”And so saying he came down into the valley, stumbling as if he had been a drunken man; and he began to sing, hiccuping all the time, staggering from side to side, yawning, spitting, and then standing still and pretending to be sick. But all the time he was keeping his eyes wide open, and peering this way and that, for he had heard the sharp sound as of a wolf howling. Then, as he stood there vomiting like a dog, he descried the long outline of a wolf moving towards the cemetery in the bright light of the moon.At that he lurched on again, and came into the path between the hedges of broom. There he pretended to fall down, and as he did so, he placed his trap upon the side from which the wolf was coming. Then he loaded his crossbow, and went forward about ten paces, standing up again in a drunken posture. He still went on staggering to right and to left, nor did he cease to retch and to hiccup, but all the time his mind was taut as a bowstring, and he was all eyes and ears for what might be going to happen. Yet he saw nothing save the dark clouds racing in the sky, and again that large and heavy form of blackness coming down the path towards him. Neither did he hear aught but the dismal wailing of the wind, and the angry thunder of the sea, and the sound that the shells on the path gave forth beneath a heavy step that tapped upon them. Feigning to be about to sit down, Ulenspiegel fell forwards on to the path, very heavily like a drunken man. After that he heard as it were a piece of iron clinking close to his ear, and then the sound of the trap shutting, and a human voice that cried out in the darkness.“The werwolf,” said Ulenspiegel to himself. “He’s got his front paws caught in the trap. Now he is howling and trying to run away, dragging the trap with him. But heshall not escape.” And he drew his crossbow and shot an arrow at the legs of the werwolf.“He’s wounded now,” said Ulenspiegel, “and he has fallen down.”Thereupon he whistled like a seagull, and straightway the church bell clanged out from the village and a boy’s shrill voice was heard crying from afar off:“Awake! Awake, you sleepers! The werwolf is caught.”“Praise be to God,” said Ulenspiegel.Now the first to arrive on the scene of the capture were Toria the mother of Betkin, and Lansaen her husband, and her two brothers Josse and Michael. And they brought lanterns with them.“You have caught him?” they asked.“Look on the path,” answered Ulenspiegel.“Praise be to God,” they exclaimed, crossing themselves.“Who is it that is calling out the news in the village?” asked Ulenspiegel.“It is my eldest boy,” Lansaen answered. “The youngster is running through the village knocking on all the doors and crying out that the wolf is caught. Praise be to thee!”“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.Suddenly the werwolf began to speak:“Have mercy on me! Have mercy, Ulenspiegel!”“This wolf can talk!” they exclaimed, crossing themselves again. “He is a devil in very truth, and knows Ulenspiegel’s name already!”“Have mercy! Have mercy!” the voice cried again. “I am no wolf. Order the bell to stop ringing. For thus it is that it tolls for the dead. And my wrists are torn by the trap. I am old and I am bleeding. Have mercy! And what is this—this shrill voice of a child awakening all the village? Oh pray, have mercy!”“I have heard your voice before,” said Ulenspiegel passionately. “You are the fishmonger. The murderer of Claes, the vampire that preys upon poor maids! Have no fear, good mother and father. This is none other than the Dean of the Fishmongers on whose account poor Soetkin died of grief.” And with one hand he held the man fast by the neck, and with the other he drew out his cutlass.But Toria the mother of Betkin prevented him.“Take him alive,” cried she. “Take him alive. Let him pay!”Meanwhile there were many fisherfolk, men and women of Heyst, who were come out at the news that the werwolf was taken and that he was no devil but a man. Some of these carried lanterns and flaming torches, and all of them cried aloud when they saw him:“Thief! Murderer! Where hide you the gold that you have stolen from your poor victims?”“He shall repay it all,” said Toria. And she would have beaten him in her rage had she not fallen down there and then upon the sand in a mad fury like unto one dead. And they left her there until she came to herself.And Ulenspiegel, sad at heart, beheld the clouds racing like mad things in the sky, and out at sea the white crests of the waves, and on the ground at his feet the white face of the fishmonger that looked up at him in the light of the lantern with cruel eyes. And the ashes beat upon his heart.And they walked for four hours, and came to Damme where was a great crowd assembled that already was aware of what had happened. Every one desired to see the fishmonger, and they pressed round the fishermen and fisherwives, crying out and singing and dancing and saying: “The werwolf is caught! He is caught, the murderer! Blessed be Ulenspiegel! Long live our brother Ulenspiegel!—Lange leveonzenbroeder Ulenspiegel.” And it was like a popular rising. And when the crowd passed in front of the bailiff’shouse, he came out, hearing the noise, and said to Ulenspiegel:“You are the conqueror; all praise to you!”“It was the ashes of Claes that beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.Then the bailiff said:“Half the murderer’s fortune shall be yours.”“Let it be given to his victims,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now Lamme and Nele were there too—Nele laughing and crying with joy and kissing her lover; Lamme jumping heavily and striking his belly while he cried out at the same time:“Brave, trusty, and true! My comrade, my well-beloved! You cannot match him anywhere, you other men of the flat country.”But the fisherfolk laughed and made mock of Lamme.XXVIThe great bell, theBorgstorm, rang out on the morrow to summon to theVierscharethe aldermen and the clerks of the court. There they sat on four banks of turf under the noble lime-tree which was called the Tree of Justice. And round about stood the common people. When he was examined the fishmonger would confess nothing. All he did was to repeat continually:“I am poor and old, have mercy upon me.”But the people howled at him, saying:“You are an old wolf, destroyer of children; have no pity, sir judges.”“Let him pay! Let him pay!” cried Toria.But the fishmonger entreated again most piteously:“I am poor. Leave me alone.”Then, since he would not say anything of his own free will, he was condemned to be tortured until he should confess how he had committed the murders, whence he came, andwhere he had hidden the remains of the victims and their money.So now he was brought to the torture chamber, and on his feet were put the iron shoes of torture, and the bailiff asked him how it was that Satan had inspired him with designs so black and crimes so abominable. Then at last he made answer:“Satan is myself, my essential nature. Even as a child, ugly as I was and unskilled in all bodily exercises, I was regarded as a simpleton by every one and was continually being beaten. Neither girl nor boy had any pity for me, and as I grew up no woman would have anything to do with me, not even for payment. So I conceived a hatred for the whole human race, and for this reason I betrayed the man Claes who was beloved by all. Thereafter I was attracted more than ever by the idea of living like a wolf, and I dreamed of tearing flesh with my teeth. And I killed two wolves in the woods of Raveschoet and Maldeghem, and I sewed together their two skins as a covering. And by day and by night I wandered along the sand-dunes, and especially on Saturdays—the day of the market at Bruges.”Then the bailiff said:“Repent and pray to God.”But the fishmonger blasphemed, saying:“It is God himself who willed me to be as I am. I did all in spite of myself, led on by the will of nature. Evil tigers that you are, you will punish me unjustly.”But he was condemned to die the death, and Toria cried aloud: “Justice is done. He shall pay the penalty.”And all the people cried:“Langlevede Heeren van de wet!—Long live the Officers of the Law!”The next morning at early dawn, as they were bringing him to the place of punishment, he saw Ulenspiegel standing near the pile and he pointed his finger at him, crying:“There is a man who ought to die no less than I. For ten years ago it was that he threw me into the Damme canal because I had denounced his father. But in that I had acted as a loyal subject to His Most Catholic Majesty.”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.“For you also the bells are tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel. “You will be hanged. For you have committed murder.”“Is this true?” demanded the bailiff.Ulenspiegel answered:“I threw into the water the man who denounced Claes and was the cause of his death. The ashes of my father beat upon my heart.”And the women that were in the crowd said to him:“Why confess it, Ulenspiegel? No one saw the deed. But now you also will die the death.”And the prisoner laughed aloud, leaping in the air with a bitter joy.“He will die,” he said. “He will leave this earth for hell. He will die. God is just.”“He shall not die,” said the bailiff, “for after the lapse of ten years no murderer can lawfully be brought to punishment in the land of Flanders. Ulenspiegel did a wicked act, but it was done for love of his father: and for such a deed as that Ulenspiegel shall not be summoned to trial.”“Long live the law!” cried the crowd. “Langlevede wet!”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. And the prisoner ground his teeth and hung his head, and now for the first time he let fall a tear. And his hand was cut off and his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, and he was burned alive in a slow fire in front of the Town Hall.And Toria cried out:“He is paying the penalty! He is paying the penalty! See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hairof a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.”

XXIIIAt Harlebeke Lamme renewed his provision ofoliekoekjes, eating seven-and-twenty of them on the spot and putting thirty away into his basket. The same evening they came to Courtrai and dismounted from their donkeys at the tavern of the Bee that was kept by one Gilis Van den Ende, who himself came to the inn door as soon as he heard the singing of the lark.At once the new arrivals found that everything was made like sugar and honey for them; for mine host, as soon as he had seen the letter from the Prince, presented Ulenspiegel with fifty caroluses on the Prince’s behalf, nor would he accept any payment at all for the turkey which he served for their dinner, nor yet for thedobbel clauwaertwhich he gave them to drink. He warned them also that there were many spies in Courtrai, and that it behoved both Ulenspiegel and his companion to keep a close watch on what they said during their stay in the city.“We shall be careful,” said Ulenspiegel and Lamme. And so saying they came out of the tavern.The gables of the houses were all gilded in the rays of the setting sun. The birds sang in the lime-trees, and Lamme and Ulenspiegel wandered at their ease along the streets of the town. All at once Lamme said:“I asked Martin Van den Ende if by chance he had seen any one at all resembling my wife in Courtrai, and he told me that there were a number of women that were accustomed to meet together of an evening at the sign of the Rainbow, a house that is kept by a woman called La Stevenyne, just outside the town on the road to Bruges. I shall go there.”“I will meet you anon,” said Ulenspiegel. “But now I would see the sights of the town. If I meet your wife I will send her on to you. Meanwhile remember what the innkeeper said, and keep your own counsel if you value your own skin.”“I will be careful,” said Lamme.Ulenspiegel walked about by himself till the sun set and night began to come on quickly. He had come to thePierpot-Straetje—the Alley of the Pot of Stone—and there he heard the sound of a viola being played most melodiously, and presently he noticed a white figure that beckoned to him from a distance, then retreated, playing the viola all the time. It was a woman, and she sang like a seraphim, a sweet, slow song, stopping now and then to look behind her with a beckoning gesture, then retreating again. But Ulenspiegel ran quickly and overtook her, and was about to speak to her when she sealed his lips with a hand all scented with benjamin.“Are you a working man or a nobleman?” she asked.“I am Ulenspiegel.”“Are you rich?”“Rich enough for you.”“But you have not seen me!” And she opened the lantern she carried so as to let the light shine straight upon her face.“You are beautiful,” said Ulenspiegel.“Then come with me,” she said.And she brought him to the house of La Stevenyne, on the road to Bruges, at the sign of the Rainbow.They entered a large room where a great number of girls were assembled, who all looked up jealously at Ulenspiegel’s companion as she came in. And suddenly Ulenspiegel saw Lamme, sitting there in a corner by a little table whereon was a candle, a ham, and a pot of beer. By his side were a couple of girls, who were endeavouring to get a share in the ham and the beer; but Lamme was trying to prevent them. As soon as he noticed Ulenspiegel he jumped up, crying:“Blessed be God who has given back to me my friend! Bring more drink,baesine!”At this Ulenspiegel drew out his purse, saying:“Yes, bring us to drink to the value of what is in here!” and he jingled the money that was in the purse.“No, by heaven!” cried Lamme, seizing the purse. “It’s I that shall pay, not you.”Ulenspiegel would have recovered the purse by force, but Lamme kept tight hold. As they were struggling together, the one to keep the purse, the other to get it back again, Lamme whispered by fits and starts into Ulenspiegel’s ear:“Listen.Constables. Here ... four of them ... in the little room with three girls.Two outside waiting for you and for me.... I tried to go out ... prevented.... The girl over there in the brocaded gown is a spy ... Stevenyne a spy!”And all the time they were fighting Ulenspiegel listened attentively, though he kept on crying aloud:“Give me back my purse, you rascal!”And they seized each other by the neck and by the shoulders, and rolled together on the floor, while Lamme went on with his tidings to Ulenspiegel. Suddenly there appeared on the scene mine host of the tavern of the Bee; and he was followed by seven other men, with whom, however, he apparently had no connexion. As he came in he crowed like a cock and Ulenspiegel whistled like a lark. Then, seeing Ulenspiegel and Lamme still struggling on the floor, he inquired of La Stevenyne who they might be. “Two rascals,” she told him, “who ought to be parted from each other instead of being allowed to make all this disturbance ere they are brought to the gallows.”“If any one tries to separate us,” said Ulenspiegel, “we will make him eat of these paving-stones.”“Yes,” said Lamme, “we will make him eat these paving-stones!”Then Ulenspiegel whispered something in Lamme’s ear. “The innkeeper is come to rescue us.” And presently the innkeeper, who must have divined some mystery was afoot,joined themêléeon the floor with his head down, and Lamme attacked him in the ear with these words:“You have come to rescue us? How will you do it?”The innkeeper made pretence of pulling Ulenspiegel by the ears, but managed to say to him the while, under his breath:“These seven men are on your side ... they are strong men ... butchers.... I must be off ... too well known in the town ... but when I have gone....’T is van te beven de klinkaert.... Break up everything....”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel, rising at the same time from the floor and kicking out at the innkeeper. The latter struck Ulenspiegel in his turn and Ulenspiegel said:“You hit hard, my hearty!”“As hard as a hail-storm,” said the innkeeper. And quickly seizing the purse from Lamme he handed it back to Ulenspiegel.“You may stand me a drink, you rogue, now you are come into your right mind again.”“I’ll stand you one, you scandalous scamp,” replied Ulenspiegel.“See how insolent he is,” said La Stevenyne.“As insolent as you are beautiful,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now La Stevenyne was sixty years old at least, and her face was like the fruit of the medlar, but all yellow with bile, and she had a large port-wine stain on her left cheek.When the innkeeper had had his drink, he paid the bill and departed. The seven butchers meanwhile made sundry knowing grimaces at the constables and La Stevenyne. One of them indicated by a gesture that he held Ulenspiegel for a simpleton, and that he would be able to do for him very easily. But all the time that he was putting out his tongue in mockery to La Stevenyne, who herself was grinning and laughing, he whispered in Ulenspiegel’s ear:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert—it is time to rattle theglasses.” Then, in his ordinary tone of voice, and pointing at the constables:“Gentle Reformer,” he said, “we are all on your side. Stand us some food and drink, won’t you?”And La Stevenyne laughed with pleasure, and put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel when his back was turned. And La Gilline, she of the brocaded gown, she also put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel, and the girls all began to whisper one to another: “Behold the spy that by her beauty draweth men to the torture and bringeth them at last to a death more cruel even than torture. Above seven-and-twenty Protestants hath she betrayed already. Gilline is her name, and now she is in a rapture of joy as she thinks of the reward she will get for her information—the first hundred caroluses, to wit, from the estate of each of her victims. But she will not laugh when she bethinketh her that she must share one-half of the spoil with La Stevenyne!”And every one there present—the constables, the butchers, and the girls themselves—put out their tongues in mockery of Ulenspiegel. And Lamme sweated great drops of sweat, and became red with anger like the crest of a cock. But he would not let himself say a word.“Come, stand us food and drink,” said the butchers and the constables.“Very well,” said Ulenspiegel, jingling yet again the money in his purse. “Bring us meat and drink, my sweet Stevenyne; bring us drink in glasses that can sing!”At this the girls began to laugh anew; but La Stevenyne went down to the cellar and brought back with her ham, sausages, black-pudding omelettes, and some of those singing glasses, that are so called because they are mounted on tall stems and can be made to resound like a bell when some one strikes them. Then Ulenspiegel said:“Let him who is hungry eat, and he who is thirsty let him drink!” And the constables, the girls, the butchers, Gilline,and La Stevenyne applauded these words of Ulenspiegel, clapping their hands and stamping their feet; and then they all sat down to the feast. Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the seven butchers sat at the big table of honour, the constables and the girls at two smaller tables; and they ate and drank right heartily. And the constables invited their two comrades, who had been waiting outside the house, to come in and join them.La Stevenyne said with a snigger:“Remember, no one can leave till he has paid me.”And she went and locked all the doors, and put the keys in her pocket.At this La Gilline raised her glass.“The bird is in its cage,” she cried. “Let us drink.”But two of the girls, whose names were Gena and Margot, said to her:“Is this yet another man that you are going to lure to his death, you wicked one?”“I know not,” said Gilline; “let us drink.”But the girls would not drink with her.And Gilline took her viola and sang in French this song:Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.As she sang this song La Gilline looked so beautiful, so soft and fragrant, that all the men, the constables and the butchers, Lamme and Ulenspiegel himself, sat smiling there, quite melted and overcome by her charm.All at once La Gilline gave a loud laugh and fixed her gaze on Ulenspiegel:“And it’s thus that the birds are caged,” she said. And the spell of her charm was broken.Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the butchers looked at one another.“Well now,” said La Stevenyne, “are you going to pay the bill, my Lord Ulenspiegel?”“We shall pay nothing in advance,” said he.“Then I shall pay myself later on—out of your inheritance,” said La Stevenyne. After that:“Let us drink!” she cried.“Let us drink!” cried the constables.“Let us drink!” cried La Stevenyne. “The doors are shut; the windows are strongly barred; the birds are in their cage. Let us drink!”“Let us drink then,” said Ulenspiegel. “And bring us wine of the best to crown the banquet.”La Stevenyne brought in more wine. And now they were all seated, drinking and eating, the constables and the girls together. But the seven butchers were at the same tablewith Ulenspiegel and Lamme, and they kept on throwing pieces of ham, and sausages, omelettes, and bottles of wine to the table of the girls, who themselves caught the food in mid-flight as carp catch the flies that buzz on the surface of a fishpond. And La Stevenyne laughed and grinned, and pointed to the packets of candles which hung over the counter. And these were the candles that the gay girls were used to purchase, five to the pound. Then La Stevenyne said to Ulenspiegel:“On his way to the stake it is the custom for the condemned man to carry a wax candle. Shall I make you a present of one?”“Let us drink!” said Ulenspiegel.But La Gilline said: “Look at Ulenspiegel’s eyes. They are shining like the eyes of a swan that is about to die.”“Wouldn’t you like to eat one of the candles?” said La Stevenyne. “They would serve you in hell to lighten your eternal damnation.”“I see clearly enough to admire your ugly mug,” said Ulenspiegel.Suddenly he struck the stem of his wine-glass and clapped his hands together with a rhythm like that an upholsterer uses when he beats the wool of a mattress with his stick.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” he said; “it is time to make the glasses shiver—the glasses which resound....”And this, in Flanders, is the signal that the drinkers make when they are angry, and when they are like to ransack and despoil in their wrath the houses of ill fame. So even now did Ulenspiegel raise his glass and drink, and then did he made it vibrate upon the table, crying yet again:“’T isvan tebeven de klinkaert.”And the seven butchers did likewise.Then a great stillness fell upon the company. La Gilline grew pale; La Stevenyne looked astonished. The constables said:“Are the seven with them too?” But the butchers winked their eyes and reassured them; yet all the time they continued without ceasing, and louder and louder as Ulenspiegel led them:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”La Stevenyne took another draught of wine to give herself courage.Then Ulenspiegel struck his fist on the table in that regular rhythm which the upholsterers use as they beat their mattresses; and the seven did likewise; and the glasses, jugs, trenchers, flagons, and goblets began to dance upon the table, slowly at first, but beginning soon to knock against each other, and to break and to heel over on one side as they fell. And all the time echoed and re-echoed, more sternly menacing, with every monotonous repetition:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“Alas!” said La Stevenyne, “they will break everything.” And her teeth seemed to show farther out from her lips than ever. And the hot blood of their fury and of their anger began to flame in the souls of the seven butchers, and in the souls of Lamme and Ulenspiegel. Till at last, without ceasing once their melancholy and monotonous chant, all they that were sitting at Ulenspiegel’s table took their glasses, and brake them upon the table, and at the same moment they drew their cutlasses and leapt upon the chairs. And they made such a din with their song that all the windows in the house shook. Then like a band of infuriated devils they went round the room, visiting each table in turn, crying without ceasing:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”And the constables rose up trembling with terror and seized their ropes and chains. But the butchers, together with Lamme and Ulenspiegel, thrust their knives quickly back into their cases, and sprang up to run nimbly throughthe chamber, hitting out right and left with their chairs as though they had been cudgels. And they spared nothing there except the girls, for everything else they brake in pieces—furniture, windows, chests, plates, pots, trenchers, glasses, and flagons, hitting out at the constables without mercy, and crying out all the time in the rhythm of the mattress-beaters: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” And Ulenspiegel, who had given La Stevenyne a blow on the nose with his fist, and had taken all her keys and put them into his satchel, was now amusing himself by forcing her to eat those candles of hers. And the girls laughed at the sight of her as she sneezed with anger and tried to spit out the candles—but in vain, for her mouth was too full. And all the time Ulenspiegel and the seven butchers did not cease the rhythm of their dire refrain: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” But at last Ulenspiegel made a sign, and when silence had at last been restored he spake, saying:“You are here, my friends, in our power. It is a dark night and the River Lys is close at hand, where a man drowns easily if he is once pushed in. And the gates of Courtrai are shut.” Then turning to the seven butchers:“You are bound for Peteghen, to join the Beggarmen?”“We were ready to go there when the news came to us that you were here.”“And from Peteghen you were going to the sea?”“Yes,” they said.“Do you think there are one or two among these constables whom it would be safe to release for our service?”“There are two,” they said, “Niklaes and Joos by name, who have never as yet been guilty of persecuting the poor Reformers.”“You can trust us!” said Niklaes and Joos.“Very well then,” said Ulenspiegel. “Here are twenty caroluses for you, twice as much, that is, as you would havegot for an act of shameful betrayal.” And at that the other five constables cried out as one man:“Twenty florins! We will serve the Prince for twenty florins. The King’s pay is bad. Only give us half as much and we will tell the judge any tale you please.” But Lamme and the butchers kept muttering under their breath:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“In order that you may be kept from too much talking,” Ulenspiegel continued, “the seven will lead you in handcuffs to Peteghen, and there you will be given over into the hands of the Beggarmen. The florins will be handed to you at sea, and if you prove brave in battle you will have your share of the spoil. If you attempt to desert you will be hanged.”“We will serve him who pays us,” they said.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” murmured the seven.“You will also take with you,” said Ulenspiegel, “La Gilline, La Stevenyne and the girls. If any one of them tries to escape you will sew her in a sack and throw her into the river.”“He has not killed me yet!” cried La Gilline, jumping up from her corner and brandishing her viola in the air. And she began to sing:Sanglant était mon rêve.Le rêve de mon cœur.Je suis la fille d’EveEt de Satan vainqueur.But La Stevenyne and the others seemed as if they were going to cry.“Do not be afraid, my sweets,” said Ulenspiegel. “You are so pretty and so tender that all men will love to caress you wherever you go, and after every victory you will have yourshare in the spoils.” But the three girls turned upon La Gilline:“You that were her daughter, her breadwinner, sharing with La Stevenyne the shameful rewards of her espionage, do you still dare to flaunt yourself before us and to insult us with your dress of brocade? Verily it is the blood of the victims and nothing else that has clothed you so richly. But now let us take her dress from her, so she may be like to us.”“That shall not be,” said Ulenspiegel.And the girls looked jealously at Ulenspiegel, saying:“He is mad about her, like all the rest.”And La Gilline played upon her viola and sang, and the seven butchers departed for Peteghen, taking with them the constables and the girls. And they passed along by the River Lys. And as they went they kept muttering:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert!” And at break of day they came to the camp, and sang out like the lark and were answered straightway by a cockcrow. The girls and the constables were put under a strong guard, but in spite of these precautions La Gilline was found dead at noon on the third day, her heart pierced by a long needle. The three girls accused La Stevenyne of having done this deed, and she was brought before the captain. There she confessed that she had committed the crime out of jealousy and anger at the way the girl had treated her. And La Stevenyne was hanged and buried in the wood.La Gilline also was buried, and prayers were said over her sweet body.

XXIII

At Harlebeke Lamme renewed his provision ofoliekoekjes, eating seven-and-twenty of them on the spot and putting thirty away into his basket. The same evening they came to Courtrai and dismounted from their donkeys at the tavern of the Bee that was kept by one Gilis Van den Ende, who himself came to the inn door as soon as he heard the singing of the lark.At once the new arrivals found that everything was made like sugar and honey for them; for mine host, as soon as he had seen the letter from the Prince, presented Ulenspiegel with fifty caroluses on the Prince’s behalf, nor would he accept any payment at all for the turkey which he served for their dinner, nor yet for thedobbel clauwaertwhich he gave them to drink. He warned them also that there were many spies in Courtrai, and that it behoved both Ulenspiegel and his companion to keep a close watch on what they said during their stay in the city.“We shall be careful,” said Ulenspiegel and Lamme. And so saying they came out of the tavern.The gables of the houses were all gilded in the rays of the setting sun. The birds sang in the lime-trees, and Lamme and Ulenspiegel wandered at their ease along the streets of the town. All at once Lamme said:“I asked Martin Van den Ende if by chance he had seen any one at all resembling my wife in Courtrai, and he told me that there were a number of women that were accustomed to meet together of an evening at the sign of the Rainbow, a house that is kept by a woman called La Stevenyne, just outside the town on the road to Bruges. I shall go there.”“I will meet you anon,” said Ulenspiegel. “But now I would see the sights of the town. If I meet your wife I will send her on to you. Meanwhile remember what the innkeeper said, and keep your own counsel if you value your own skin.”“I will be careful,” said Lamme.Ulenspiegel walked about by himself till the sun set and night began to come on quickly. He had come to thePierpot-Straetje—the Alley of the Pot of Stone—and there he heard the sound of a viola being played most melodiously, and presently he noticed a white figure that beckoned to him from a distance, then retreated, playing the viola all the time. It was a woman, and she sang like a seraphim, a sweet, slow song, stopping now and then to look behind her with a beckoning gesture, then retreating again. But Ulenspiegel ran quickly and overtook her, and was about to speak to her when she sealed his lips with a hand all scented with benjamin.“Are you a working man or a nobleman?” she asked.“I am Ulenspiegel.”“Are you rich?”“Rich enough for you.”“But you have not seen me!” And she opened the lantern she carried so as to let the light shine straight upon her face.“You are beautiful,” said Ulenspiegel.“Then come with me,” she said.And she brought him to the house of La Stevenyne, on the road to Bruges, at the sign of the Rainbow.They entered a large room where a great number of girls were assembled, who all looked up jealously at Ulenspiegel’s companion as she came in. And suddenly Ulenspiegel saw Lamme, sitting there in a corner by a little table whereon was a candle, a ham, and a pot of beer. By his side were a couple of girls, who were endeavouring to get a share in the ham and the beer; but Lamme was trying to prevent them. As soon as he noticed Ulenspiegel he jumped up, crying:“Blessed be God who has given back to me my friend! Bring more drink,baesine!”At this Ulenspiegel drew out his purse, saying:“Yes, bring us to drink to the value of what is in here!” and he jingled the money that was in the purse.“No, by heaven!” cried Lamme, seizing the purse. “It’s I that shall pay, not you.”Ulenspiegel would have recovered the purse by force, but Lamme kept tight hold. As they were struggling together, the one to keep the purse, the other to get it back again, Lamme whispered by fits and starts into Ulenspiegel’s ear:“Listen.Constables. Here ... four of them ... in the little room with three girls.Two outside waiting for you and for me.... I tried to go out ... prevented.... The girl over there in the brocaded gown is a spy ... Stevenyne a spy!”And all the time they were fighting Ulenspiegel listened attentively, though he kept on crying aloud:“Give me back my purse, you rascal!”And they seized each other by the neck and by the shoulders, and rolled together on the floor, while Lamme went on with his tidings to Ulenspiegel. Suddenly there appeared on the scene mine host of the tavern of the Bee; and he was followed by seven other men, with whom, however, he apparently had no connexion. As he came in he crowed like a cock and Ulenspiegel whistled like a lark. Then, seeing Ulenspiegel and Lamme still struggling on the floor, he inquired of La Stevenyne who they might be. “Two rascals,” she told him, “who ought to be parted from each other instead of being allowed to make all this disturbance ere they are brought to the gallows.”“If any one tries to separate us,” said Ulenspiegel, “we will make him eat of these paving-stones.”“Yes,” said Lamme, “we will make him eat these paving-stones!”Then Ulenspiegel whispered something in Lamme’s ear. “The innkeeper is come to rescue us.” And presently the innkeeper, who must have divined some mystery was afoot,joined themêléeon the floor with his head down, and Lamme attacked him in the ear with these words:“You have come to rescue us? How will you do it?”The innkeeper made pretence of pulling Ulenspiegel by the ears, but managed to say to him the while, under his breath:“These seven men are on your side ... they are strong men ... butchers.... I must be off ... too well known in the town ... but when I have gone....’T is van te beven de klinkaert.... Break up everything....”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel, rising at the same time from the floor and kicking out at the innkeeper. The latter struck Ulenspiegel in his turn and Ulenspiegel said:“You hit hard, my hearty!”“As hard as a hail-storm,” said the innkeeper. And quickly seizing the purse from Lamme he handed it back to Ulenspiegel.“You may stand me a drink, you rogue, now you are come into your right mind again.”“I’ll stand you one, you scandalous scamp,” replied Ulenspiegel.“See how insolent he is,” said La Stevenyne.“As insolent as you are beautiful,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now La Stevenyne was sixty years old at least, and her face was like the fruit of the medlar, but all yellow with bile, and she had a large port-wine stain on her left cheek.When the innkeeper had had his drink, he paid the bill and departed. The seven butchers meanwhile made sundry knowing grimaces at the constables and La Stevenyne. One of them indicated by a gesture that he held Ulenspiegel for a simpleton, and that he would be able to do for him very easily. But all the time that he was putting out his tongue in mockery to La Stevenyne, who herself was grinning and laughing, he whispered in Ulenspiegel’s ear:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert—it is time to rattle theglasses.” Then, in his ordinary tone of voice, and pointing at the constables:“Gentle Reformer,” he said, “we are all on your side. Stand us some food and drink, won’t you?”And La Stevenyne laughed with pleasure, and put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel when his back was turned. And La Gilline, she of the brocaded gown, she also put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel, and the girls all began to whisper one to another: “Behold the spy that by her beauty draweth men to the torture and bringeth them at last to a death more cruel even than torture. Above seven-and-twenty Protestants hath she betrayed already. Gilline is her name, and now she is in a rapture of joy as she thinks of the reward she will get for her information—the first hundred caroluses, to wit, from the estate of each of her victims. But she will not laugh when she bethinketh her that she must share one-half of the spoil with La Stevenyne!”And every one there present—the constables, the butchers, and the girls themselves—put out their tongues in mockery of Ulenspiegel. And Lamme sweated great drops of sweat, and became red with anger like the crest of a cock. But he would not let himself say a word.“Come, stand us food and drink,” said the butchers and the constables.“Very well,” said Ulenspiegel, jingling yet again the money in his purse. “Bring us meat and drink, my sweet Stevenyne; bring us drink in glasses that can sing!”At this the girls began to laugh anew; but La Stevenyne went down to the cellar and brought back with her ham, sausages, black-pudding omelettes, and some of those singing glasses, that are so called because they are mounted on tall stems and can be made to resound like a bell when some one strikes them. Then Ulenspiegel said:“Let him who is hungry eat, and he who is thirsty let him drink!” And the constables, the girls, the butchers, Gilline,and La Stevenyne applauded these words of Ulenspiegel, clapping their hands and stamping their feet; and then they all sat down to the feast. Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the seven butchers sat at the big table of honour, the constables and the girls at two smaller tables; and they ate and drank right heartily. And the constables invited their two comrades, who had been waiting outside the house, to come in and join them.La Stevenyne said with a snigger:“Remember, no one can leave till he has paid me.”And she went and locked all the doors, and put the keys in her pocket.At this La Gilline raised her glass.“The bird is in its cage,” she cried. “Let us drink.”But two of the girls, whose names were Gena and Margot, said to her:“Is this yet another man that you are going to lure to his death, you wicked one?”“I know not,” said Gilline; “let us drink.”But the girls would not drink with her.And Gilline took her viola and sang in French this song:Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.As she sang this song La Gilline looked so beautiful, so soft and fragrant, that all the men, the constables and the butchers, Lamme and Ulenspiegel himself, sat smiling there, quite melted and overcome by her charm.All at once La Gilline gave a loud laugh and fixed her gaze on Ulenspiegel:“And it’s thus that the birds are caged,” she said. And the spell of her charm was broken.Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the butchers looked at one another.“Well now,” said La Stevenyne, “are you going to pay the bill, my Lord Ulenspiegel?”“We shall pay nothing in advance,” said he.“Then I shall pay myself later on—out of your inheritance,” said La Stevenyne. After that:“Let us drink!” she cried.“Let us drink!” cried the constables.“Let us drink!” cried La Stevenyne. “The doors are shut; the windows are strongly barred; the birds are in their cage. Let us drink!”“Let us drink then,” said Ulenspiegel. “And bring us wine of the best to crown the banquet.”La Stevenyne brought in more wine. And now they were all seated, drinking and eating, the constables and the girls together. But the seven butchers were at the same tablewith Ulenspiegel and Lamme, and they kept on throwing pieces of ham, and sausages, omelettes, and bottles of wine to the table of the girls, who themselves caught the food in mid-flight as carp catch the flies that buzz on the surface of a fishpond. And La Stevenyne laughed and grinned, and pointed to the packets of candles which hung over the counter. And these were the candles that the gay girls were used to purchase, five to the pound. Then La Stevenyne said to Ulenspiegel:“On his way to the stake it is the custom for the condemned man to carry a wax candle. Shall I make you a present of one?”“Let us drink!” said Ulenspiegel.But La Gilline said: “Look at Ulenspiegel’s eyes. They are shining like the eyes of a swan that is about to die.”“Wouldn’t you like to eat one of the candles?” said La Stevenyne. “They would serve you in hell to lighten your eternal damnation.”“I see clearly enough to admire your ugly mug,” said Ulenspiegel.Suddenly he struck the stem of his wine-glass and clapped his hands together with a rhythm like that an upholsterer uses when he beats the wool of a mattress with his stick.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” he said; “it is time to make the glasses shiver—the glasses which resound....”And this, in Flanders, is the signal that the drinkers make when they are angry, and when they are like to ransack and despoil in their wrath the houses of ill fame. So even now did Ulenspiegel raise his glass and drink, and then did he made it vibrate upon the table, crying yet again:“’T isvan tebeven de klinkaert.”And the seven butchers did likewise.Then a great stillness fell upon the company. La Gilline grew pale; La Stevenyne looked astonished. The constables said:“Are the seven with them too?” But the butchers winked their eyes and reassured them; yet all the time they continued without ceasing, and louder and louder as Ulenspiegel led them:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”La Stevenyne took another draught of wine to give herself courage.Then Ulenspiegel struck his fist on the table in that regular rhythm which the upholsterers use as they beat their mattresses; and the seven did likewise; and the glasses, jugs, trenchers, flagons, and goblets began to dance upon the table, slowly at first, but beginning soon to knock against each other, and to break and to heel over on one side as they fell. And all the time echoed and re-echoed, more sternly menacing, with every monotonous repetition:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“Alas!” said La Stevenyne, “they will break everything.” And her teeth seemed to show farther out from her lips than ever. And the hot blood of their fury and of their anger began to flame in the souls of the seven butchers, and in the souls of Lamme and Ulenspiegel. Till at last, without ceasing once their melancholy and monotonous chant, all they that were sitting at Ulenspiegel’s table took their glasses, and brake them upon the table, and at the same moment they drew their cutlasses and leapt upon the chairs. And they made such a din with their song that all the windows in the house shook. Then like a band of infuriated devils they went round the room, visiting each table in turn, crying without ceasing:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”And the constables rose up trembling with terror and seized their ropes and chains. But the butchers, together with Lamme and Ulenspiegel, thrust their knives quickly back into their cases, and sprang up to run nimbly throughthe chamber, hitting out right and left with their chairs as though they had been cudgels. And they spared nothing there except the girls, for everything else they brake in pieces—furniture, windows, chests, plates, pots, trenchers, glasses, and flagons, hitting out at the constables without mercy, and crying out all the time in the rhythm of the mattress-beaters: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” And Ulenspiegel, who had given La Stevenyne a blow on the nose with his fist, and had taken all her keys and put them into his satchel, was now amusing himself by forcing her to eat those candles of hers. And the girls laughed at the sight of her as she sneezed with anger and tried to spit out the candles—but in vain, for her mouth was too full. And all the time Ulenspiegel and the seven butchers did not cease the rhythm of their dire refrain: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” But at last Ulenspiegel made a sign, and when silence had at last been restored he spake, saying:“You are here, my friends, in our power. It is a dark night and the River Lys is close at hand, where a man drowns easily if he is once pushed in. And the gates of Courtrai are shut.” Then turning to the seven butchers:“You are bound for Peteghen, to join the Beggarmen?”“We were ready to go there when the news came to us that you were here.”“And from Peteghen you were going to the sea?”“Yes,” they said.“Do you think there are one or two among these constables whom it would be safe to release for our service?”“There are two,” they said, “Niklaes and Joos by name, who have never as yet been guilty of persecuting the poor Reformers.”“You can trust us!” said Niklaes and Joos.“Very well then,” said Ulenspiegel. “Here are twenty caroluses for you, twice as much, that is, as you would havegot for an act of shameful betrayal.” And at that the other five constables cried out as one man:“Twenty florins! We will serve the Prince for twenty florins. The King’s pay is bad. Only give us half as much and we will tell the judge any tale you please.” But Lamme and the butchers kept muttering under their breath:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”“In order that you may be kept from too much talking,” Ulenspiegel continued, “the seven will lead you in handcuffs to Peteghen, and there you will be given over into the hands of the Beggarmen. The florins will be handed to you at sea, and if you prove brave in battle you will have your share of the spoil. If you attempt to desert you will be hanged.”“We will serve him who pays us,” they said.“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” murmured the seven.“You will also take with you,” said Ulenspiegel, “La Gilline, La Stevenyne and the girls. If any one of them tries to escape you will sew her in a sack and throw her into the river.”“He has not killed me yet!” cried La Gilline, jumping up from her corner and brandishing her viola in the air. And she began to sing:Sanglant était mon rêve.Le rêve de mon cœur.Je suis la fille d’EveEt de Satan vainqueur.But La Stevenyne and the others seemed as if they were going to cry.“Do not be afraid, my sweets,” said Ulenspiegel. “You are so pretty and so tender that all men will love to caress you wherever you go, and after every victory you will have yourshare in the spoils.” But the three girls turned upon La Gilline:“You that were her daughter, her breadwinner, sharing with La Stevenyne the shameful rewards of her espionage, do you still dare to flaunt yourself before us and to insult us with your dress of brocade? Verily it is the blood of the victims and nothing else that has clothed you so richly. But now let us take her dress from her, so she may be like to us.”“That shall not be,” said Ulenspiegel.And the girls looked jealously at Ulenspiegel, saying:“He is mad about her, like all the rest.”And La Gilline played upon her viola and sang, and the seven butchers departed for Peteghen, taking with them the constables and the girls. And they passed along by the River Lys. And as they went they kept muttering:“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert!” And at break of day they came to the camp, and sang out like the lark and were answered straightway by a cockcrow. The girls and the constables were put under a strong guard, but in spite of these precautions La Gilline was found dead at noon on the third day, her heart pierced by a long needle. The three girls accused La Stevenyne of having done this deed, and she was brought before the captain. There she confessed that she had committed the crime out of jealousy and anger at the way the girl had treated her. And La Stevenyne was hanged and buried in the wood.La Gilline also was buried, and prayers were said over her sweet body.

At Harlebeke Lamme renewed his provision ofoliekoekjes, eating seven-and-twenty of them on the spot and putting thirty away into his basket. The same evening they came to Courtrai and dismounted from their donkeys at the tavern of the Bee that was kept by one Gilis Van den Ende, who himself came to the inn door as soon as he heard the singing of the lark.

At once the new arrivals found that everything was made like sugar and honey for them; for mine host, as soon as he had seen the letter from the Prince, presented Ulenspiegel with fifty caroluses on the Prince’s behalf, nor would he accept any payment at all for the turkey which he served for their dinner, nor yet for thedobbel clauwaertwhich he gave them to drink. He warned them also that there were many spies in Courtrai, and that it behoved both Ulenspiegel and his companion to keep a close watch on what they said during their stay in the city.

“We shall be careful,” said Ulenspiegel and Lamme. And so saying they came out of the tavern.

The gables of the houses were all gilded in the rays of the setting sun. The birds sang in the lime-trees, and Lamme and Ulenspiegel wandered at their ease along the streets of the town. All at once Lamme said:

“I asked Martin Van den Ende if by chance he had seen any one at all resembling my wife in Courtrai, and he told me that there were a number of women that were accustomed to meet together of an evening at the sign of the Rainbow, a house that is kept by a woman called La Stevenyne, just outside the town on the road to Bruges. I shall go there.”

“I will meet you anon,” said Ulenspiegel. “But now I would see the sights of the town. If I meet your wife I will send her on to you. Meanwhile remember what the innkeeper said, and keep your own counsel if you value your own skin.”

“I will be careful,” said Lamme.

Ulenspiegel walked about by himself till the sun set and night began to come on quickly. He had come to thePierpot-Straetje—the Alley of the Pot of Stone—and there he heard the sound of a viola being played most melodiously, and presently he noticed a white figure that beckoned to him from a distance, then retreated, playing the viola all the time. It was a woman, and she sang like a seraphim, a sweet, slow song, stopping now and then to look behind her with a beckoning gesture, then retreating again. But Ulenspiegel ran quickly and overtook her, and was about to speak to her when she sealed his lips with a hand all scented with benjamin.

“Are you a working man or a nobleman?” she asked.

“I am Ulenspiegel.”

“Are you rich?”

“Rich enough for you.”

“But you have not seen me!” And she opened the lantern she carried so as to let the light shine straight upon her face.

“You are beautiful,” said Ulenspiegel.

“Then come with me,” she said.

And she brought him to the house of La Stevenyne, on the road to Bruges, at the sign of the Rainbow.

They entered a large room where a great number of girls were assembled, who all looked up jealously at Ulenspiegel’s companion as she came in. And suddenly Ulenspiegel saw Lamme, sitting there in a corner by a little table whereon was a candle, a ham, and a pot of beer. By his side were a couple of girls, who were endeavouring to get a share in the ham and the beer; but Lamme was trying to prevent them. As soon as he noticed Ulenspiegel he jumped up, crying:

“Blessed be God who has given back to me my friend! Bring more drink,baesine!”

At this Ulenspiegel drew out his purse, saying:

“Yes, bring us to drink to the value of what is in here!” and he jingled the money that was in the purse.

“No, by heaven!” cried Lamme, seizing the purse. “It’s I that shall pay, not you.”

Ulenspiegel would have recovered the purse by force, but Lamme kept tight hold. As they were struggling together, the one to keep the purse, the other to get it back again, Lamme whispered by fits and starts into Ulenspiegel’s ear:

“Listen.Constables. Here ... four of them ... in the little room with three girls.Two outside waiting for you and for me.... I tried to go out ... prevented.... The girl over there in the brocaded gown is a spy ... Stevenyne a spy!”

And all the time they were fighting Ulenspiegel listened attentively, though he kept on crying aloud:

“Give me back my purse, you rascal!”

And they seized each other by the neck and by the shoulders, and rolled together on the floor, while Lamme went on with his tidings to Ulenspiegel. Suddenly there appeared on the scene mine host of the tavern of the Bee; and he was followed by seven other men, with whom, however, he apparently had no connexion. As he came in he crowed like a cock and Ulenspiegel whistled like a lark. Then, seeing Ulenspiegel and Lamme still struggling on the floor, he inquired of La Stevenyne who they might be. “Two rascals,” she told him, “who ought to be parted from each other instead of being allowed to make all this disturbance ere they are brought to the gallows.”

“If any one tries to separate us,” said Ulenspiegel, “we will make him eat of these paving-stones.”

“Yes,” said Lamme, “we will make him eat these paving-stones!”

Then Ulenspiegel whispered something in Lamme’s ear. “The innkeeper is come to rescue us.” And presently the innkeeper, who must have divined some mystery was afoot,joined themêléeon the floor with his head down, and Lamme attacked him in the ear with these words:

“You have come to rescue us? How will you do it?”

The innkeeper made pretence of pulling Ulenspiegel by the ears, but managed to say to him the while, under his breath:

“These seven men are on your side ... they are strong men ... butchers.... I must be off ... too well known in the town ... but when I have gone....’T is van te beven de klinkaert.... Break up everything....”

“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel, rising at the same time from the floor and kicking out at the innkeeper. The latter struck Ulenspiegel in his turn and Ulenspiegel said:

“You hit hard, my hearty!”

“As hard as a hail-storm,” said the innkeeper. And quickly seizing the purse from Lamme he handed it back to Ulenspiegel.

“You may stand me a drink, you rogue, now you are come into your right mind again.”

“I’ll stand you one, you scandalous scamp,” replied Ulenspiegel.

“See how insolent he is,” said La Stevenyne.

“As insolent as you are beautiful,” answered Ulenspiegel.

Now La Stevenyne was sixty years old at least, and her face was like the fruit of the medlar, but all yellow with bile, and she had a large port-wine stain on her left cheek.

When the innkeeper had had his drink, he paid the bill and departed. The seven butchers meanwhile made sundry knowing grimaces at the constables and La Stevenyne. One of them indicated by a gesture that he held Ulenspiegel for a simpleton, and that he would be able to do for him very easily. But all the time that he was putting out his tongue in mockery to La Stevenyne, who herself was grinning and laughing, he whispered in Ulenspiegel’s ear:

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert—it is time to rattle theglasses.” Then, in his ordinary tone of voice, and pointing at the constables:

“Gentle Reformer,” he said, “we are all on your side. Stand us some food and drink, won’t you?”

And La Stevenyne laughed with pleasure, and put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel when his back was turned. And La Gilline, she of the brocaded gown, she also put out her tongue at Ulenspiegel, and the girls all began to whisper one to another: “Behold the spy that by her beauty draweth men to the torture and bringeth them at last to a death more cruel even than torture. Above seven-and-twenty Protestants hath she betrayed already. Gilline is her name, and now she is in a rapture of joy as she thinks of the reward she will get for her information—the first hundred caroluses, to wit, from the estate of each of her victims. But she will not laugh when she bethinketh her that she must share one-half of the spoil with La Stevenyne!”

And every one there present—the constables, the butchers, and the girls themselves—put out their tongues in mockery of Ulenspiegel. And Lamme sweated great drops of sweat, and became red with anger like the crest of a cock. But he would not let himself say a word.

“Come, stand us food and drink,” said the butchers and the constables.

“Very well,” said Ulenspiegel, jingling yet again the money in his purse. “Bring us meat and drink, my sweet Stevenyne; bring us drink in glasses that can sing!”

At this the girls began to laugh anew; but La Stevenyne went down to the cellar and brought back with her ham, sausages, black-pudding omelettes, and some of those singing glasses, that are so called because they are mounted on tall stems and can be made to resound like a bell when some one strikes them. Then Ulenspiegel said:

“Let him who is hungry eat, and he who is thirsty let him drink!” And the constables, the girls, the butchers, Gilline,and La Stevenyne applauded these words of Ulenspiegel, clapping their hands and stamping their feet; and then they all sat down to the feast. Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the seven butchers sat at the big table of honour, the constables and the girls at two smaller tables; and they ate and drank right heartily. And the constables invited their two comrades, who had been waiting outside the house, to come in and join them.

La Stevenyne said with a snigger:

“Remember, no one can leave till he has paid me.”

And she went and locked all the doors, and put the keys in her pocket.

At this La Gilline raised her glass.

“The bird is in its cage,” she cried. “Let us drink.”

But two of the girls, whose names were Gena and Margot, said to her:

“Is this yet another man that you are going to lure to his death, you wicked one?”

“I know not,” said Gilline; “let us drink.”

But the girls would not drink with her.

And Gilline took her viola and sang in French this song:

Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.

Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.

Au son de la viole,

Je chante nuit et jour;

Je suis la fille-folle,

La vendeuse d’amour.

Astarté de mes hanchesFit les lignes de feu;J’ai les épaules blanches,Et mon beau corps est Dieu.

Astarté de mes hanches

Fit les lignes de feu;

J’ai les épaules blanches,

Et mon beau corps est Dieu.

Je suis froide ou brûlante,Tendre au doux nonchaloir:Tiède, éperdue, ardente,Mon homme, à ton vouloir.

Je suis froide ou brûlante,

Tendre au doux nonchaloir:

Tiède, éperdue, ardente,

Mon homme, à ton vouloir.

Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;Bonheur, rires et larmes,Et la Mort si tu veux.

Vois, je vends tout: mes charmes,

Mon âme et mes yeux bleus;

Bonheur, rires et larmes,

Et la Mort si tu veux.

Au son de la viole,Je chante nuit et jour;Je suis la fille-folle,La vendeuse d’amour.

Au son de la viole,

Je chante nuit et jour;

Je suis la fille-folle,

La vendeuse d’amour.

As she sang this song La Gilline looked so beautiful, so soft and fragrant, that all the men, the constables and the butchers, Lamme and Ulenspiegel himself, sat smiling there, quite melted and overcome by her charm.

All at once La Gilline gave a loud laugh and fixed her gaze on Ulenspiegel:

“And it’s thus that the birds are caged,” she said. And the spell of her charm was broken.

Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and the butchers looked at one another.

“Well now,” said La Stevenyne, “are you going to pay the bill, my Lord Ulenspiegel?”

“We shall pay nothing in advance,” said he.

“Then I shall pay myself later on—out of your inheritance,” said La Stevenyne. After that:

“Let us drink!” she cried.

“Let us drink!” cried the constables.

“Let us drink!” cried La Stevenyne. “The doors are shut; the windows are strongly barred; the birds are in their cage. Let us drink!”

“Let us drink then,” said Ulenspiegel. “And bring us wine of the best to crown the banquet.”

La Stevenyne brought in more wine. And now they were all seated, drinking and eating, the constables and the girls together. But the seven butchers were at the same tablewith Ulenspiegel and Lamme, and they kept on throwing pieces of ham, and sausages, omelettes, and bottles of wine to the table of the girls, who themselves caught the food in mid-flight as carp catch the flies that buzz on the surface of a fishpond. And La Stevenyne laughed and grinned, and pointed to the packets of candles which hung over the counter. And these were the candles that the gay girls were used to purchase, five to the pound. Then La Stevenyne said to Ulenspiegel:

“On his way to the stake it is the custom for the condemned man to carry a wax candle. Shall I make you a present of one?”

“Let us drink!” said Ulenspiegel.

But La Gilline said: “Look at Ulenspiegel’s eyes. They are shining like the eyes of a swan that is about to die.”

“Wouldn’t you like to eat one of the candles?” said La Stevenyne. “They would serve you in hell to lighten your eternal damnation.”

“I see clearly enough to admire your ugly mug,” said Ulenspiegel.

Suddenly he struck the stem of his wine-glass and clapped his hands together with a rhythm like that an upholsterer uses when he beats the wool of a mattress with his stick.

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” he said; “it is time to make the glasses shiver—the glasses which resound....”

And this, in Flanders, is the signal that the drinkers make when they are angry, and when they are like to ransack and despoil in their wrath the houses of ill fame. So even now did Ulenspiegel raise his glass and drink, and then did he made it vibrate upon the table, crying yet again:

“’T isvan tebeven de klinkaert.”

And the seven butchers did likewise.

Then a great stillness fell upon the company. La Gilline grew pale; La Stevenyne looked astonished. The constables said:

“Are the seven with them too?” But the butchers winked their eyes and reassured them; yet all the time they continued without ceasing, and louder and louder as Ulenspiegel led them:

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”

La Stevenyne took another draught of wine to give herself courage.

Then Ulenspiegel struck his fist on the table in that regular rhythm which the upholsterers use as they beat their mattresses; and the seven did likewise; and the glasses, jugs, trenchers, flagons, and goblets began to dance upon the table, slowly at first, but beginning soon to knock against each other, and to break and to heel over on one side as they fell. And all the time echoed and re-echoed, more sternly menacing, with every monotonous repetition:

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”

“Alas!” said La Stevenyne, “they will break everything.” And her teeth seemed to show farther out from her lips than ever. And the hot blood of their fury and of their anger began to flame in the souls of the seven butchers, and in the souls of Lamme and Ulenspiegel. Till at last, without ceasing once their melancholy and monotonous chant, all they that were sitting at Ulenspiegel’s table took their glasses, and brake them upon the table, and at the same moment they drew their cutlasses and leapt upon the chairs. And they made such a din with their song that all the windows in the house shook. Then like a band of infuriated devils they went round the room, visiting each table in turn, crying without ceasing:

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”

“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”

“’Tis van te beven de klinkaert”

And the constables rose up trembling with terror and seized their ropes and chains. But the butchers, together with Lamme and Ulenspiegel, thrust their knives quickly back into their cases, and sprang up to run nimbly throughthe chamber, hitting out right and left with their chairs as though they had been cudgels. And they spared nothing there except the girls, for everything else they brake in pieces—furniture, windows, chests, plates, pots, trenchers, glasses, and flagons, hitting out at the constables without mercy, and crying out all the time in the rhythm of the mattress-beaters: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” And Ulenspiegel, who had given La Stevenyne a blow on the nose with his fist, and had taken all her keys and put them into his satchel, was now amusing himself by forcing her to eat those candles of hers. And the girls laughed at the sight of her as she sneezed with anger and tried to spit out the candles—but in vain, for her mouth was too full. And all the time Ulenspiegel and the seven butchers did not cease the rhythm of their dire refrain: “’T is van te beven de klinkaert.” But at last Ulenspiegel made a sign, and when silence had at last been restored he spake, saying:

“You are here, my friends, in our power. It is a dark night and the River Lys is close at hand, where a man drowns easily if he is once pushed in. And the gates of Courtrai are shut.” Then turning to the seven butchers:

“You are bound for Peteghen, to join the Beggarmen?”

“We were ready to go there when the news came to us that you were here.”

“And from Peteghen you were going to the sea?”

“Yes,” they said.

“Do you think there are one or two among these constables whom it would be safe to release for our service?”

“There are two,” they said, “Niklaes and Joos by name, who have never as yet been guilty of persecuting the poor Reformers.”

“You can trust us!” said Niklaes and Joos.

“Very well then,” said Ulenspiegel. “Here are twenty caroluses for you, twice as much, that is, as you would havegot for an act of shameful betrayal.” And at that the other five constables cried out as one man:

“Twenty florins! We will serve the Prince for twenty florins. The King’s pay is bad. Only give us half as much and we will tell the judge any tale you please.” But Lamme and the butchers kept muttering under their breath:

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert. ’T is van te beven de klinkaert.”

“In order that you may be kept from too much talking,” Ulenspiegel continued, “the seven will lead you in handcuffs to Peteghen, and there you will be given over into the hands of the Beggarmen. The florins will be handed to you at sea, and if you prove brave in battle you will have your share of the spoil. If you attempt to desert you will be hanged.”

“We will serve him who pays us,” they said.

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert,” murmured the seven.

“You will also take with you,” said Ulenspiegel, “La Gilline, La Stevenyne and the girls. If any one of them tries to escape you will sew her in a sack and throw her into the river.”

“He has not killed me yet!” cried La Gilline, jumping up from her corner and brandishing her viola in the air. And she began to sing:

Sanglant était mon rêve.Le rêve de mon cœur.Je suis la fille d’EveEt de Satan vainqueur.

Sanglant était mon rêve.

Le rêve de mon cœur.

Je suis la fille d’Eve

Et de Satan vainqueur.

But La Stevenyne and the others seemed as if they were going to cry.

“Do not be afraid, my sweets,” said Ulenspiegel. “You are so pretty and so tender that all men will love to caress you wherever you go, and after every victory you will have yourshare in the spoils.” But the three girls turned upon La Gilline:

“You that were her daughter, her breadwinner, sharing with La Stevenyne the shameful rewards of her espionage, do you still dare to flaunt yourself before us and to insult us with your dress of brocade? Verily it is the blood of the victims and nothing else that has clothed you so richly. But now let us take her dress from her, so she may be like to us.”

“That shall not be,” said Ulenspiegel.

And the girls looked jealously at Ulenspiegel, saying:

“He is mad about her, like all the rest.”

And La Gilline played upon her viola and sang, and the seven butchers departed for Peteghen, taking with them the constables and the girls. And they passed along by the River Lys. And as they went they kept muttering:

“’T is van te beven de klinkaert! ’T is van te beven de klinkaert!” And at break of day they came to the camp, and sang out like the lark and were answered straightway by a cockcrow. The girls and the constables were put under a strong guard, but in spite of these precautions La Gilline was found dead at noon on the third day, her heart pierced by a long needle. The three girls accused La Stevenyne of having done this deed, and she was brought before the captain. There she confessed that she had committed the crime out of jealousy and anger at the way the girl had treated her. And La Stevenyne was hanged and buried in the wood.

La Gilline also was buried, and prayers were said over her sweet body.

XXIVWarm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about.From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”The master charcoal-burner answered:“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many timesand again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:“Where have I seen this fat man?”“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.

XXIV

Warm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about.From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”The master charcoal-burner answered:“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many timesand again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:“Where have I seen this fat man?”“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.

Warm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about.From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.

From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:

“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.

“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.

“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”

But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.

They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:

“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”

The master charcoal-burner answered:

“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”

Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.

When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”

But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:

“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”

And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.

And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”

Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many timesand again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:

“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”

Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:

“Where have I seen this fat man?”

“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”

“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”

At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.

XXVNow, in those days a damsel some fifteen years of age was going from Heyst to Knokke, alone in the middle of the day, by the sand-dunes. No one had any fear for her for they knew that the wolves and wicked spirits of the damned go biting their victims only in the night. The damsel carried a satchel wherein were forty-eight gold coins of the value of four florins carolus, being the sum owed by the girl’s mother, Toria Pieterson, who lived at Heyst, to her uncle, Jan Rapen of Knokke, on account of a sale. The girl’s name was Betkin,and she was wearing her best clothes, and she went on her way most happily.The same evening, seeing that she did not return, her mother became anxious, but reassured herself with the thought that the girl must have stayed the night with her uncle.On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at theMinqueof Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself!Covering the girl’s body with anopperst-kleedthey brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders.The Death of BetkinThe Death of BetkinAnd in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made.But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: “I will go and kill the werwolf.”“What gives you this confidence?” asked the bailiff.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” Ulenspiegel replied. “Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune.”“Very well,” said the bailiff.Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge,and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts.On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme:“I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff.”Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him:“This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing.” Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said:“You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there.” And the curé crossed himself.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé said:“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will bedoing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”The curé said:“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound thewacharmon the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”Ulenspiegel answered:“The ashes beat upon my heart.”And the curé said to him:“I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?”“Both,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way.And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England.“Alas!” he cried, “O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on themurderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise.”And so saying he came down into the valley, stumbling as if he had been a drunken man; and he began to sing, hiccuping all the time, staggering from side to side, yawning, spitting, and then standing still and pretending to be sick. But all the time he was keeping his eyes wide open, and peering this way and that, for he had heard the sharp sound as of a wolf howling. Then, as he stood there vomiting like a dog, he descried the long outline of a wolf moving towards the cemetery in the bright light of the moon.At that he lurched on again, and came into the path between the hedges of broom. There he pretended to fall down, and as he did so, he placed his trap upon the side from which the wolf was coming. Then he loaded his crossbow, and went forward about ten paces, standing up again in a drunken posture. He still went on staggering to right and to left, nor did he cease to retch and to hiccup, but all the time his mind was taut as a bowstring, and he was all eyes and ears for what might be going to happen. Yet he saw nothing save the dark clouds racing in the sky, and again that large and heavy form of blackness coming down the path towards him. Neither did he hear aught but the dismal wailing of the wind, and the angry thunder of the sea, and the sound that the shells on the path gave forth beneath a heavy step that tapped upon them. Feigning to be about to sit down, Ulenspiegel fell forwards on to the path, very heavily like a drunken man. After that he heard as it were a piece of iron clinking close to his ear, and then the sound of the trap shutting, and a human voice that cried out in the darkness.“The werwolf,” said Ulenspiegel to himself. “He’s got his front paws caught in the trap. Now he is howling and trying to run away, dragging the trap with him. But heshall not escape.” And he drew his crossbow and shot an arrow at the legs of the werwolf.“He’s wounded now,” said Ulenspiegel, “and he has fallen down.”Thereupon he whistled like a seagull, and straightway the church bell clanged out from the village and a boy’s shrill voice was heard crying from afar off:“Awake! Awake, you sleepers! The werwolf is caught.”“Praise be to God,” said Ulenspiegel.Now the first to arrive on the scene of the capture were Toria the mother of Betkin, and Lansaen her husband, and her two brothers Josse and Michael. And they brought lanterns with them.“You have caught him?” they asked.“Look on the path,” answered Ulenspiegel.“Praise be to God,” they exclaimed, crossing themselves.“Who is it that is calling out the news in the village?” asked Ulenspiegel.“It is my eldest boy,” Lansaen answered. “The youngster is running through the village knocking on all the doors and crying out that the wolf is caught. Praise be to thee!”“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.Suddenly the werwolf began to speak:“Have mercy on me! Have mercy, Ulenspiegel!”“This wolf can talk!” they exclaimed, crossing themselves again. “He is a devil in very truth, and knows Ulenspiegel’s name already!”“Have mercy! Have mercy!” the voice cried again. “I am no wolf. Order the bell to stop ringing. For thus it is that it tolls for the dead. And my wrists are torn by the trap. I am old and I am bleeding. Have mercy! And what is this—this shrill voice of a child awakening all the village? Oh pray, have mercy!”“I have heard your voice before,” said Ulenspiegel passionately. “You are the fishmonger. The murderer of Claes, the vampire that preys upon poor maids! Have no fear, good mother and father. This is none other than the Dean of the Fishmongers on whose account poor Soetkin died of grief.” And with one hand he held the man fast by the neck, and with the other he drew out his cutlass.But Toria the mother of Betkin prevented him.“Take him alive,” cried she. “Take him alive. Let him pay!”Meanwhile there were many fisherfolk, men and women of Heyst, who were come out at the news that the werwolf was taken and that he was no devil but a man. Some of these carried lanterns and flaming torches, and all of them cried aloud when they saw him:“Thief! Murderer! Where hide you the gold that you have stolen from your poor victims?”“He shall repay it all,” said Toria. And she would have beaten him in her rage had she not fallen down there and then upon the sand in a mad fury like unto one dead. And they left her there until she came to herself.And Ulenspiegel, sad at heart, beheld the clouds racing like mad things in the sky, and out at sea the white crests of the waves, and on the ground at his feet the white face of the fishmonger that looked up at him in the light of the lantern with cruel eyes. And the ashes beat upon his heart.And they walked for four hours, and came to Damme where was a great crowd assembled that already was aware of what had happened. Every one desired to see the fishmonger, and they pressed round the fishermen and fisherwives, crying out and singing and dancing and saying: “The werwolf is caught! He is caught, the murderer! Blessed be Ulenspiegel! Long live our brother Ulenspiegel!—Lange leveonzenbroeder Ulenspiegel.” And it was like a popular rising. And when the crowd passed in front of the bailiff’shouse, he came out, hearing the noise, and said to Ulenspiegel:“You are the conqueror; all praise to you!”“It was the ashes of Claes that beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.Then the bailiff said:“Half the murderer’s fortune shall be yours.”“Let it be given to his victims,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now Lamme and Nele were there too—Nele laughing and crying with joy and kissing her lover; Lamme jumping heavily and striking his belly while he cried out at the same time:“Brave, trusty, and true! My comrade, my well-beloved! You cannot match him anywhere, you other men of the flat country.”But the fisherfolk laughed and made mock of Lamme.

XXV

Now, in those days a damsel some fifteen years of age was going from Heyst to Knokke, alone in the middle of the day, by the sand-dunes. No one had any fear for her for they knew that the wolves and wicked spirits of the damned go biting their victims only in the night. The damsel carried a satchel wherein were forty-eight gold coins of the value of four florins carolus, being the sum owed by the girl’s mother, Toria Pieterson, who lived at Heyst, to her uncle, Jan Rapen of Knokke, on account of a sale. The girl’s name was Betkin,and she was wearing her best clothes, and she went on her way most happily.The same evening, seeing that she did not return, her mother became anxious, but reassured herself with the thought that the girl must have stayed the night with her uncle.On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at theMinqueof Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself!Covering the girl’s body with anopperst-kleedthey brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders.The Death of BetkinThe Death of BetkinAnd in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made.But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: “I will go and kill the werwolf.”“What gives you this confidence?” asked the bailiff.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” Ulenspiegel replied. “Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune.”“Very well,” said the bailiff.Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge,and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts.On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme:“I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff.”Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him:“This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing.” Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said:“You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there.” And the curé crossed himself.“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé said:“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will bedoing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”The curé said:“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound thewacharmon the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”Ulenspiegel answered:“The ashes beat upon my heart.”And the curé said to him:“I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?”“Both,” answered Ulenspiegel.The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way.And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England.“Alas!” he cried, “O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on themurderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise.”And so saying he came down into the valley, stumbling as if he had been a drunken man; and he began to sing, hiccuping all the time, staggering from side to side, yawning, spitting, and then standing still and pretending to be sick. But all the time he was keeping his eyes wide open, and peering this way and that, for he had heard the sharp sound as of a wolf howling. Then, as he stood there vomiting like a dog, he descried the long outline of a wolf moving towards the cemetery in the bright light of the moon.At that he lurched on again, and came into the path between the hedges of broom. There he pretended to fall down, and as he did so, he placed his trap upon the side from which the wolf was coming. Then he loaded his crossbow, and went forward about ten paces, standing up again in a drunken posture. He still went on staggering to right and to left, nor did he cease to retch and to hiccup, but all the time his mind was taut as a bowstring, and he was all eyes and ears for what might be going to happen. Yet he saw nothing save the dark clouds racing in the sky, and again that large and heavy form of blackness coming down the path towards him. Neither did he hear aught but the dismal wailing of the wind, and the angry thunder of the sea, and the sound that the shells on the path gave forth beneath a heavy step that tapped upon them. Feigning to be about to sit down, Ulenspiegel fell forwards on to the path, very heavily like a drunken man. After that he heard as it were a piece of iron clinking close to his ear, and then the sound of the trap shutting, and a human voice that cried out in the darkness.“The werwolf,” said Ulenspiegel to himself. “He’s got his front paws caught in the trap. Now he is howling and trying to run away, dragging the trap with him. But heshall not escape.” And he drew his crossbow and shot an arrow at the legs of the werwolf.“He’s wounded now,” said Ulenspiegel, “and he has fallen down.”Thereupon he whistled like a seagull, and straightway the church bell clanged out from the village and a boy’s shrill voice was heard crying from afar off:“Awake! Awake, you sleepers! The werwolf is caught.”“Praise be to God,” said Ulenspiegel.Now the first to arrive on the scene of the capture were Toria the mother of Betkin, and Lansaen her husband, and her two brothers Josse and Michael. And they brought lanterns with them.“You have caught him?” they asked.“Look on the path,” answered Ulenspiegel.“Praise be to God,” they exclaimed, crossing themselves.“Who is it that is calling out the news in the village?” asked Ulenspiegel.“It is my eldest boy,” Lansaen answered. “The youngster is running through the village knocking on all the doors and crying out that the wolf is caught. Praise be to thee!”“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.Suddenly the werwolf began to speak:“Have mercy on me! Have mercy, Ulenspiegel!”“This wolf can talk!” they exclaimed, crossing themselves again. “He is a devil in very truth, and knows Ulenspiegel’s name already!”“Have mercy! Have mercy!” the voice cried again. “I am no wolf. Order the bell to stop ringing. For thus it is that it tolls for the dead. And my wrists are torn by the trap. I am old and I am bleeding. Have mercy! And what is this—this shrill voice of a child awakening all the village? Oh pray, have mercy!”“I have heard your voice before,” said Ulenspiegel passionately. “You are the fishmonger. The murderer of Claes, the vampire that preys upon poor maids! Have no fear, good mother and father. This is none other than the Dean of the Fishmongers on whose account poor Soetkin died of grief.” And with one hand he held the man fast by the neck, and with the other he drew out his cutlass.But Toria the mother of Betkin prevented him.“Take him alive,” cried she. “Take him alive. Let him pay!”Meanwhile there were many fisherfolk, men and women of Heyst, who were come out at the news that the werwolf was taken and that he was no devil but a man. Some of these carried lanterns and flaming torches, and all of them cried aloud when they saw him:“Thief! Murderer! Where hide you the gold that you have stolen from your poor victims?”“He shall repay it all,” said Toria. And she would have beaten him in her rage had she not fallen down there and then upon the sand in a mad fury like unto one dead. And they left her there until she came to herself.And Ulenspiegel, sad at heart, beheld the clouds racing like mad things in the sky, and out at sea the white crests of the waves, and on the ground at his feet the white face of the fishmonger that looked up at him in the light of the lantern with cruel eyes. And the ashes beat upon his heart.And they walked for four hours, and came to Damme where was a great crowd assembled that already was aware of what had happened. Every one desired to see the fishmonger, and they pressed round the fishermen and fisherwives, crying out and singing and dancing and saying: “The werwolf is caught! He is caught, the murderer! Blessed be Ulenspiegel! Long live our brother Ulenspiegel!—Lange leveonzenbroeder Ulenspiegel.” And it was like a popular rising. And when the crowd passed in front of the bailiff’shouse, he came out, hearing the noise, and said to Ulenspiegel:“You are the conqueror; all praise to you!”“It was the ashes of Claes that beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.Then the bailiff said:“Half the murderer’s fortune shall be yours.”“Let it be given to his victims,” answered Ulenspiegel.Now Lamme and Nele were there too—Nele laughing and crying with joy and kissing her lover; Lamme jumping heavily and striking his belly while he cried out at the same time:“Brave, trusty, and true! My comrade, my well-beloved! You cannot match him anywhere, you other men of the flat country.”But the fisherfolk laughed and made mock of Lamme.

Now, in those days a damsel some fifteen years of age was going from Heyst to Knokke, alone in the middle of the day, by the sand-dunes. No one had any fear for her for they knew that the wolves and wicked spirits of the damned go biting their victims only in the night. The damsel carried a satchel wherein were forty-eight gold coins of the value of four florins carolus, being the sum owed by the girl’s mother, Toria Pieterson, who lived at Heyst, to her uncle, Jan Rapen of Knokke, on account of a sale. The girl’s name was Betkin,and she was wearing her best clothes, and she went on her way most happily.

The same evening, seeing that she did not return, her mother became anxious, but reassured herself with the thought that the girl must have stayed the night with her uncle.

On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at theMinqueof Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself!

Covering the girl’s body with anopperst-kleedthey brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders.

The Death of BetkinThe Death of Betkin

The Death of Betkin

And in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made.

But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: “I will go and kill the werwolf.”

“What gives you this confidence?” asked the bailiff.

“The ashes beat upon my heart,” Ulenspiegel replied. “Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune.”

“Very well,” said the bailiff.

Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge,and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts.

On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme:

“I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff.”

Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him:

“This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing.” Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said:

“You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there.” And the curé crossed himself.

“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.

The curé said:

“Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you.”

“Monsieur le Curé,” said Ulenspiegel, “you will bedoing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl’s mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it.”

The curé said:

“If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast.”

“I understand,” said Ulenspiegel. “And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl’s mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound thewacharmon the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men....”

“There are none, my son,” replied the curé. “The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you.”

Ulenspiegel answered:

“The ashes beat upon my heart.”

And the curé said to him:

“I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“Both,” answered Ulenspiegel.

The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way.

And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England.

“Alas!” he cried, “O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on themurderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise.”

And so saying he came down into the valley, stumbling as if he had been a drunken man; and he began to sing, hiccuping all the time, staggering from side to side, yawning, spitting, and then standing still and pretending to be sick. But all the time he was keeping his eyes wide open, and peering this way and that, for he had heard the sharp sound as of a wolf howling. Then, as he stood there vomiting like a dog, he descried the long outline of a wolf moving towards the cemetery in the bright light of the moon.

At that he lurched on again, and came into the path between the hedges of broom. There he pretended to fall down, and as he did so, he placed his trap upon the side from which the wolf was coming. Then he loaded his crossbow, and went forward about ten paces, standing up again in a drunken posture. He still went on staggering to right and to left, nor did he cease to retch and to hiccup, but all the time his mind was taut as a bowstring, and he was all eyes and ears for what might be going to happen. Yet he saw nothing save the dark clouds racing in the sky, and again that large and heavy form of blackness coming down the path towards him. Neither did he hear aught but the dismal wailing of the wind, and the angry thunder of the sea, and the sound that the shells on the path gave forth beneath a heavy step that tapped upon them. Feigning to be about to sit down, Ulenspiegel fell forwards on to the path, very heavily like a drunken man. After that he heard as it were a piece of iron clinking close to his ear, and then the sound of the trap shutting, and a human voice that cried out in the darkness.

“The werwolf,” said Ulenspiegel to himself. “He’s got his front paws caught in the trap. Now he is howling and trying to run away, dragging the trap with him. But heshall not escape.” And he drew his crossbow and shot an arrow at the legs of the werwolf.

“He’s wounded now,” said Ulenspiegel, “and he has fallen down.”

Thereupon he whistled like a seagull, and straightway the church bell clanged out from the village and a boy’s shrill voice was heard crying from afar off:

“Awake! Awake, you sleepers! The werwolf is caught.”

“Praise be to God,” said Ulenspiegel.

Now the first to arrive on the scene of the capture were Toria the mother of Betkin, and Lansaen her husband, and her two brothers Josse and Michael. And they brought lanterns with them.

“You have caught him?” they asked.

“Look on the path,” answered Ulenspiegel.

“Praise be to God,” they exclaimed, crossing themselves.

“Who is it that is calling out the news in the village?” asked Ulenspiegel.

“It is my eldest boy,” Lansaen answered. “The youngster is running through the village knocking on all the doors and crying out that the wolf is caught. Praise be to thee!”

“The ashes beat upon my heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.

Suddenly the werwolf began to speak:

“Have mercy on me! Have mercy, Ulenspiegel!”

“This wolf can talk!” they exclaimed, crossing themselves again. “He is a devil in very truth, and knows Ulenspiegel’s name already!”

“Have mercy! Have mercy!” the voice cried again. “I am no wolf. Order the bell to stop ringing. For thus it is that it tolls for the dead. And my wrists are torn by the trap. I am old and I am bleeding. Have mercy! And what is this—this shrill voice of a child awakening all the village? Oh pray, have mercy!”

“I have heard your voice before,” said Ulenspiegel passionately. “You are the fishmonger. The murderer of Claes, the vampire that preys upon poor maids! Have no fear, good mother and father. This is none other than the Dean of the Fishmongers on whose account poor Soetkin died of grief.” And with one hand he held the man fast by the neck, and with the other he drew out his cutlass.

But Toria the mother of Betkin prevented him.

“Take him alive,” cried she. “Take him alive. Let him pay!”

Meanwhile there were many fisherfolk, men and women of Heyst, who were come out at the news that the werwolf was taken and that he was no devil but a man. Some of these carried lanterns and flaming torches, and all of them cried aloud when they saw him:

“Thief! Murderer! Where hide you the gold that you have stolen from your poor victims?”

“He shall repay it all,” said Toria. And she would have beaten him in her rage had she not fallen down there and then upon the sand in a mad fury like unto one dead. And they left her there until she came to herself.

And Ulenspiegel, sad at heart, beheld the clouds racing like mad things in the sky, and out at sea the white crests of the waves, and on the ground at his feet the white face of the fishmonger that looked up at him in the light of the lantern with cruel eyes. And the ashes beat upon his heart.

And they walked for four hours, and came to Damme where was a great crowd assembled that already was aware of what had happened. Every one desired to see the fishmonger, and they pressed round the fishermen and fisherwives, crying out and singing and dancing and saying: “The werwolf is caught! He is caught, the murderer! Blessed be Ulenspiegel! Long live our brother Ulenspiegel!—Lange leveonzenbroeder Ulenspiegel.” And it was like a popular rising. And when the crowd passed in front of the bailiff’shouse, he came out, hearing the noise, and said to Ulenspiegel:

“You are the conqueror; all praise to you!”

“It was the ashes of Claes that beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.

Then the bailiff said:

“Half the murderer’s fortune shall be yours.”

“Let it be given to his victims,” answered Ulenspiegel.

Now Lamme and Nele were there too—Nele laughing and crying with joy and kissing her lover; Lamme jumping heavily and striking his belly while he cried out at the same time:

“Brave, trusty, and true! My comrade, my well-beloved! You cannot match him anywhere, you other men of the flat country.”

But the fisherfolk laughed and made mock of Lamme.

XXVIThe great bell, theBorgstorm, rang out on the morrow to summon to theVierscharethe aldermen and the clerks of the court. There they sat on four banks of turf under the noble lime-tree which was called the Tree of Justice. And round about stood the common people. When he was examined the fishmonger would confess nothing. All he did was to repeat continually:“I am poor and old, have mercy upon me.”But the people howled at him, saying:“You are an old wolf, destroyer of children; have no pity, sir judges.”“Let him pay! Let him pay!” cried Toria.But the fishmonger entreated again most piteously:“I am poor. Leave me alone.”Then, since he would not say anything of his own free will, he was condemned to be tortured until he should confess how he had committed the murders, whence he came, andwhere he had hidden the remains of the victims and their money.So now he was brought to the torture chamber, and on his feet were put the iron shoes of torture, and the bailiff asked him how it was that Satan had inspired him with designs so black and crimes so abominable. Then at last he made answer:“Satan is myself, my essential nature. Even as a child, ugly as I was and unskilled in all bodily exercises, I was regarded as a simpleton by every one and was continually being beaten. Neither girl nor boy had any pity for me, and as I grew up no woman would have anything to do with me, not even for payment. So I conceived a hatred for the whole human race, and for this reason I betrayed the man Claes who was beloved by all. Thereafter I was attracted more than ever by the idea of living like a wolf, and I dreamed of tearing flesh with my teeth. And I killed two wolves in the woods of Raveschoet and Maldeghem, and I sewed together their two skins as a covering. And by day and by night I wandered along the sand-dunes, and especially on Saturdays—the day of the market at Bruges.”Then the bailiff said:“Repent and pray to God.”But the fishmonger blasphemed, saying:“It is God himself who willed me to be as I am. I did all in spite of myself, led on by the will of nature. Evil tigers that you are, you will punish me unjustly.”But he was condemned to die the death, and Toria cried aloud: “Justice is done. He shall pay the penalty.”And all the people cried:“Langlevede Heeren van de wet!—Long live the Officers of the Law!”The next morning at early dawn, as they were bringing him to the place of punishment, he saw Ulenspiegel standing near the pile and he pointed his finger at him, crying:“There is a man who ought to die no less than I. For ten years ago it was that he threw me into the Damme canal because I had denounced his father. But in that I had acted as a loyal subject to His Most Catholic Majesty.”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.“For you also the bells are tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel. “You will be hanged. For you have committed murder.”“Is this true?” demanded the bailiff.Ulenspiegel answered:“I threw into the water the man who denounced Claes and was the cause of his death. The ashes of my father beat upon my heart.”And the women that were in the crowd said to him:“Why confess it, Ulenspiegel? No one saw the deed. But now you also will die the death.”And the prisoner laughed aloud, leaping in the air with a bitter joy.“He will die,” he said. “He will leave this earth for hell. He will die. God is just.”“He shall not die,” said the bailiff, “for after the lapse of ten years no murderer can lawfully be brought to punishment in the land of Flanders. Ulenspiegel did a wicked act, but it was done for love of his father: and for such a deed as that Ulenspiegel shall not be summoned to trial.”“Long live the law!” cried the crowd. “Langlevede wet!”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. And the prisoner ground his teeth and hung his head, and now for the first time he let fall a tear. And his hand was cut off and his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, and he was burned alive in a slow fire in front of the Town Hall.And Toria cried out:“He is paying the penalty! He is paying the penalty! See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hairof a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.”

XXVI

The great bell, theBorgstorm, rang out on the morrow to summon to theVierscharethe aldermen and the clerks of the court. There they sat on four banks of turf under the noble lime-tree which was called the Tree of Justice. And round about stood the common people. When he was examined the fishmonger would confess nothing. All he did was to repeat continually:“I am poor and old, have mercy upon me.”But the people howled at him, saying:“You are an old wolf, destroyer of children; have no pity, sir judges.”“Let him pay! Let him pay!” cried Toria.But the fishmonger entreated again most piteously:“I am poor. Leave me alone.”Then, since he would not say anything of his own free will, he was condemned to be tortured until he should confess how he had committed the murders, whence he came, andwhere he had hidden the remains of the victims and their money.So now he was brought to the torture chamber, and on his feet were put the iron shoes of torture, and the bailiff asked him how it was that Satan had inspired him with designs so black and crimes so abominable. Then at last he made answer:“Satan is myself, my essential nature. Even as a child, ugly as I was and unskilled in all bodily exercises, I was regarded as a simpleton by every one and was continually being beaten. Neither girl nor boy had any pity for me, and as I grew up no woman would have anything to do with me, not even for payment. So I conceived a hatred for the whole human race, and for this reason I betrayed the man Claes who was beloved by all. Thereafter I was attracted more than ever by the idea of living like a wolf, and I dreamed of tearing flesh with my teeth. And I killed two wolves in the woods of Raveschoet and Maldeghem, and I sewed together their two skins as a covering. And by day and by night I wandered along the sand-dunes, and especially on Saturdays—the day of the market at Bruges.”Then the bailiff said:“Repent and pray to God.”But the fishmonger blasphemed, saying:“It is God himself who willed me to be as I am. I did all in spite of myself, led on by the will of nature. Evil tigers that you are, you will punish me unjustly.”But he was condemned to die the death, and Toria cried aloud: “Justice is done. He shall pay the penalty.”And all the people cried:“Langlevede Heeren van de wet!—Long live the Officers of the Law!”The next morning at early dawn, as they were bringing him to the place of punishment, he saw Ulenspiegel standing near the pile and he pointed his finger at him, crying:“There is a man who ought to die no less than I. For ten years ago it was that he threw me into the Damme canal because I had denounced his father. But in that I had acted as a loyal subject to His Most Catholic Majesty.”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.“For you also the bells are tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel. “You will be hanged. For you have committed murder.”“Is this true?” demanded the bailiff.Ulenspiegel answered:“I threw into the water the man who denounced Claes and was the cause of his death. The ashes of my father beat upon my heart.”And the women that were in the crowd said to him:“Why confess it, Ulenspiegel? No one saw the deed. But now you also will die the death.”And the prisoner laughed aloud, leaping in the air with a bitter joy.“He will die,” he said. “He will leave this earth for hell. He will die. God is just.”“He shall not die,” said the bailiff, “for after the lapse of ten years no murderer can lawfully be brought to punishment in the land of Flanders. Ulenspiegel did a wicked act, but it was done for love of his father: and for such a deed as that Ulenspiegel shall not be summoned to trial.”“Long live the law!” cried the crowd. “Langlevede wet!”And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. And the prisoner ground his teeth and hung his head, and now for the first time he let fall a tear. And his hand was cut off and his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, and he was burned alive in a slow fire in front of the Town Hall.And Toria cried out:“He is paying the penalty! He is paying the penalty! See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hairof a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.”

The great bell, theBorgstorm, rang out on the morrow to summon to theVierscharethe aldermen and the clerks of the court. There they sat on four banks of turf under the noble lime-tree which was called the Tree of Justice. And round about stood the common people. When he was examined the fishmonger would confess nothing. All he did was to repeat continually:

“I am poor and old, have mercy upon me.”

But the people howled at him, saying:

“You are an old wolf, destroyer of children; have no pity, sir judges.”

“Let him pay! Let him pay!” cried Toria.

But the fishmonger entreated again most piteously:

“I am poor. Leave me alone.”

Then, since he would not say anything of his own free will, he was condemned to be tortured until he should confess how he had committed the murders, whence he came, andwhere he had hidden the remains of the victims and their money.

So now he was brought to the torture chamber, and on his feet were put the iron shoes of torture, and the bailiff asked him how it was that Satan had inspired him with designs so black and crimes so abominable. Then at last he made answer:

“Satan is myself, my essential nature. Even as a child, ugly as I was and unskilled in all bodily exercises, I was regarded as a simpleton by every one and was continually being beaten. Neither girl nor boy had any pity for me, and as I grew up no woman would have anything to do with me, not even for payment. So I conceived a hatred for the whole human race, and for this reason I betrayed the man Claes who was beloved by all. Thereafter I was attracted more than ever by the idea of living like a wolf, and I dreamed of tearing flesh with my teeth. And I killed two wolves in the woods of Raveschoet and Maldeghem, and I sewed together their two skins as a covering. And by day and by night I wandered along the sand-dunes, and especially on Saturdays—the day of the market at Bruges.”

Then the bailiff said:

“Repent and pray to God.”

But the fishmonger blasphemed, saying:

“It is God himself who willed me to be as I am. I did all in spite of myself, led on by the will of nature. Evil tigers that you are, you will punish me unjustly.”

But he was condemned to die the death, and Toria cried aloud: “Justice is done. He shall pay the penalty.”

And all the people cried:

“Langlevede Heeren van de wet!—Long live the Officers of the Law!”

The next morning at early dawn, as they were bringing him to the place of punishment, he saw Ulenspiegel standing near the pile and he pointed his finger at him, crying:

“There is a man who ought to die no less than I. For ten years ago it was that he threw me into the Damme canal because I had denounced his father. But in that I had acted as a loyal subject to His Most Catholic Majesty.”

And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.

“For you also the bells are tolling,” said he to Ulenspiegel. “You will be hanged. For you have committed murder.”

“Is this true?” demanded the bailiff.

Ulenspiegel answered:

“I threw into the water the man who denounced Claes and was the cause of his death. The ashes of my father beat upon my heart.”

And the women that were in the crowd said to him:

“Why confess it, Ulenspiegel? No one saw the deed. But now you also will die the death.”

And the prisoner laughed aloud, leaping in the air with a bitter joy.

“He will die,” he said. “He will leave this earth for hell. He will die. God is just.”

“He shall not die,” said the bailiff, “for after the lapse of ten years no murderer can lawfully be brought to punishment in the land of Flanders. Ulenspiegel did a wicked act, but it was done for love of his father: and for such a deed as that Ulenspiegel shall not be summoned to trial.”

“Long live the law!” cried the crowd. “Langlevede wet!”

And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. And the prisoner ground his teeth and hung his head, and now for the first time he let fall a tear. And his hand was cut off and his tongue pierced with a red-hot iron, and he was burned alive in a slow fire in front of the Town Hall.

And Toria cried out:

“He is paying the penalty! He is paying the penalty! See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hairof a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”

And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.

And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.

And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:

“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.”

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