Popular Tales from the Norse Part 41

'Well, it is a fine hare', said the Squire; 'come let's see if we can't lay our hands on it.'

So out he ran, and the rest with him--away they all went, the hare before, and they after; so that it was rare fun to see. But meantime the youth took the roast and ran off with it; and where the Squire got a roast for his dinner that day I don't know; but one thing I know, and that is, that he had no roast hare, though he ran after it till he was both warm and weary.

Now it chanced that the Priest came to dinner that day, and when the Squire told him what a trick the Master Thief had played him, he made such game of him that there was no end of it.

'For my part', said the Priest, 'I can't think how it could ever happen to me to be made such a fool of by a fellow like that.'

'Very well--only keep a sharp look-out', said the Squire; 'maybe he'll come to see you before you know a word of it.' But the Priest stuck to his text--that he did, and made game of the Squire because he had been so taken in.

Later in the afternoon came the Master Thief, and wanted to have the Squire's daughter, as he had given his word. But the Squire began to talk him over, and said, 'Oh, you must first prove your skill a little more; for what you did to-day was no great thing, after all.

Couldn't you now play off a good trick on the Priest, who is sitting in there, and making game of me for letting such a fellow as you twist me round his thumb.'

'Well, as for that, it wouldn't be hard', said the Master Thief. So he dressed himself up like a bird, threw a great white sheet over his body, took the wings of a goose and tied them to his back, and so climbed up into a great maple which stood in the Priest's garden. And when the Priest came home in the evening, the youth began to bawl out:

'Father Laurence! Father Laurence!'--for that was the Priest's name.

'Who is that calling me?' said the Priest.

'I am an angel', said the Master Thief, 'sent from G.o.d to let you know that you shall be taken up alive into heaven for your piety's sake. Next Monday night you must hold yourself ready for the journey, for I shall come then to fetch you in a sack; and all your gold and your silver, and all that you have of this world's goods, you must lay together in a heap in your dining-room.'

Well, Father Laurence fell on his knees before the angel, and thanked him; and the very next day he preached a farewell sermon, and gave it out how there had come down an angel unto the big maple in his garden, who had told him that he was to be taken up alive into heaven for his piety's sake; and he preached and made such a touching discourse, that all who were at church wept, both young and old.

So the next Monday night came the Master Thief like an angel again, and the Priest fell on his knees and thanked him before he was put into the sack; but when he had got him well in, the Master Thief drew and dragged him over stocks and stones.

'OW! OW!' groaned the Priest inside the sack, 'wherever are we going?'

'This is the narrow way which leadeth unto the kingdom of heaven', said the Master Thief, who went on dragging him along till he had nearly broken every bone in his body. At last he tumbled him into a goose-house that belonged to the Squire, and the geese began pecking and pinching him with their bills, so that he was more dead than alive.

'Now you are in the flames of purgatory, to be cleansed and purified for life everlasting', said the Master Thief; and with that he went his way, and took all the gold which the Priest had laid together in his dining-room. The next morning, when the goose-girl came to let the geese out, she heard how the Priest lay in the sack, and bemoaned himself in the goose-house.

'In heaven's name, who's there, and what ails you?' she cried.

'Oh!' said the Priest, 'if you are an angel from heaven, do let me out, and let me return again to earth, for it is worse here than in h.e.l.l. The little fiends keep on pinching me with tongs.'

'Heaven help us, I am no angel at all', said the girl, as she helped the Priest out of the sack; 'I only look after the Squire's geese, and like enough they are the little fiends which have pinched your reverence.'

'Oh!' groaned the Priest, 'this is all that Master Thief's doing. Ah!

my gold and my silver, and my fine clothes.' And he beat his breast, and hobbled home at such a rate that the girl thought he had lost his wits all at once.

Now when the Squire came to hear how it had gone with the Priest, and how he had been along the narrow way, and into purgatory, he laughed till he well-nigh split his sides. But when the Master Thief came and asked for his daughter as he had promised, the Squire put him off again, and said:

'You must do one masterpiece better still, that I may see plainly what you are fit for. Now, I have twelve horses in my stable, and on them I will put twelve grooms, one on each. If you are so good a thief as to steal the horses from under them, I'll see what I can do for you.'

'Very well, I daresay I can do it', said the Master Thief; 'but shall I really have your daughter if I can?'

'Yes, if you can, I'll do my best for you', said the Squire. So the Master Thief set off to a shop, and bought brandy enough to fill two pocket-flasks, and into one of them he put a sleepy drink, but into the other only brandy. After that he hired eleven men to lie in wait at night, behind the Squire's stable-yard; and last of all, for fair words and a good bit of money, he borrowed a ragged gown and cloak from an old woman; and so, with a staff in his hand, and a bundle at his back, he limped off, as evening drew on, towards the Squire's stable. Just as he got there they were watering the horses for the night, and had their hands full of work. 'What the devil do you want?' said one of the grooms to the old woman.

'Oh, oh! hutetu! it is so bitter cold', said she, and shivered and shook, and made wry faces. 'Hutetu! it is so cold, a poor wretch may easily freeze to death'; and with that she fell to shivering and shaking again.

'Oh! for the love of heaven, can I get leave to stay here a while, and sit inside the stable door?'

'To the devil with your leave', said one. 'Pack yourself off this minute, for if the Squire sets his eye on you, he'll lead us a pretty dance.'

'Oh! the poor old bag-of-bones', said another, whose heart took pity on her, 'the old hag may sit inside and welcome; such a one as she can do no harm.'

And the rest said, some she should stay, and some she shouldn't; but while they were quarrelling and minding the horses, she crept further and further into the stable, till at last she sat herself down behind the door; and when she had got so far, no one gave any more heed to her.

As the night wore on, the men found it rather cold work to sit so still and quiet on horseback.

'Hutetu! it is so devilish cold', said one, and beat his arms crosswise.

'That it is', said another; 'I freeze so, that my teeth chatter.'

'If one only had a quid to chew', said a third.

Well! there was one who had an ounce or two; so they shared it between them, though it wasn't much, after all, that each got; and so they chewed and spat, and spat and chewed. This helped them somewhat; but in a little while they were just as bad as ever.

'Hutetu!' said one, and shivered and shook.

'Hutetu!' said the old woman, and shivered so, that every tooth in her head chattered. Then she pulled out the flask with brandy in it, and her hand shook so that the spirit splashed about in the flask, and then she took such a gulp, that it went 'bop' in her throat.

'What's that you've got in your flask, old girl?' said one of the grooms.

'Oh! it's only a drop of brandy, old man', said she.

'Brandy! Well, I never! Do let me have a drop', screamed the whole twelve, one after another.

'Oh! but it is such a little drop', mumbled the old woman, 'it will not even wet your mouths round.' But they must and would have it; there was no help for it; and so she pulled out the flask with the sleepy drink in it, and put it to the first man's lips; then she shook no more, but guided the flask so that each of them got what he wanted, and the twelfth had not done drinking before the first sat and snored. Then the Master Thief threw off his beggar's rags, and took one groom after the other so softly off their horses, and set them astride on the beams between the stalls; and so he called his eleven men, and rode off with the Squire's twelve horses. But when the Squire got up in the morning, and went to look after his grooms, they had just begun to come to; and some of them fell to spurring the beams with their spurs, till the splinters flew again, and some fell off, and some still hung on and sat there looking like fools.

'Ho! ho!' said the Squire; 'I see very well who has been here; but as for you, a pretty set of blockheads you must be to sit here and let the Master Thief steal the horses from between your legs.'

So they all got a good leathering because they had not kept a sharper look-out.

Further on in the day came the Master Thief again, and told how he had managed the matter, and asked for the Squire's daughter, as he had promised; but the Squire gave him one hundred dollars down, and said he must do something better still.

'Do you think now', said he, 'you can steal the horse from under me while I am out riding on his back?' 'O, yes! I daresay I could', said the Master Thief, 'if I were really sure of getting your daughter.'

Well, well, the Squire would see what he could do; and he told the Master Thief a day when he would be taking a ride on a great common where they drilled the troops. So the Master Thief soon got hold of an old worn-out jade of a mare, and set to work, and made traces and collar of withies and broom-twigs, and bought an old beggarly cart and a great cask. After that he told an old beggar woman, he would give her ten dollars if she would get inside the cask, and keep her mouth agape over the taphole, into which he was going to stick his finger. No harm should happen to her; she should only be driven about a little; and if he took his finger out more than once, she was to have ten dollars more. Then he threw a few rags and tatters over himself, and stuffed himself out, and put on a wig and a great beard of goat's hair, so that no one could know him again, and set off for the common, where the Squire had already been riding about a good bit. When he reached the place, he went along so softly and slowly that he scarce made an inch of way. 'Gee up! Gee up!' and so he went on a little; then he stood stock still, and so on a little again; and altogether the pace was so poor it never once came into the Squire's head that this could be the Master Thief.

At last the Squire rode right up to him, and asked if he had seen any one lurking about in the wood thereabouts. 'No', said the man, 'I haven't seen a soul.'

'Harkye, now', said the Squire, 'if you have a mind to ride into the wood, and hunt about and see if you can fall upon any one lurking about there, you shall have the loan of my horse, and a shilling into the bargain, to drink my health, for your pains.'

'I don't see how I can go', said the man, 'for I am going to a wedding with this cask of mead, which I have been to town to fetch, and here the tap has fallen out by the way, and so I must go along, holding my finger in the taphole.'

'Ride off', said the Squire; 'I'll look after your horse and cask.'

Well, on these terms the man was willing to go; but he begged the Squire to be quick in putting his finger into the taphole when he took his own out, and to mind and keep it there till he came back. At last the Squire grew weary of standing there with his finger in the taphole, so he took it out.