The Legend of Ulenspiegel - novelonlinefull.com
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There was no place now in Meulestee for any but the two evil and cruel men. The timid dwellers in the village saw them by day insolent and noting the houses of future victims, drawing up the lists of death; and by night venturing from the Falcon singing filthy choruses, while two catchpolls, drunk like them, followed them armed to the teeth to be their escort.
Ulenspiegel went in den Blauwe Gans, to the Blue Goose, to Joos Lansaem, who was at the bar.
Ulenspiegel took from his pocket a little flask of brandy, and said to him:
"Boelkin has two casks for sale."
"Come into my kitchen," said the baes.
There, shutting the door, and looking fixedly at him:
"You are no brandy merchant; what do these winkings of your eyes mean? Who are you?"
Ulenspiegel replied:
"I am the son of Claes that was burned at Damme; the ashes of the dead man beat upon my breast; I would fain kill Spelle, the murderer."
"It is Boelkin who sends you?" asked the host.
"Boelkin sends me," replied Ulenspiegel. "I will kill Spelle; you shall help me in it."
"I will," said the baes. "What must I do?"
Ulenspiegel replied:
"Go to the cure, the good pastor, an enemy to Spelle. a.s.semble your friends together and be with them to-morrow, after the curfew, on the Everghem road, above Spelle's house, between the Falcon and the house aforesaid. All post yourselves in the shadows and have no white on your clothes. At the stroke of ten you will see Spelle coming out from the tavern and a wagon coming from the other side.
"Do not tell your friends to-night; they sleep too near to their wives'
ears. Go and find them to-morrow. Come, now, listen to everything closely and remember well."
"We shall remember," said Joos. And raising his goblet: "I drink to Spelle's halter."
"To the halter," said Ulenspiegel. Then he went back with the baes into the tavern chamber where there sate drinking certain old clothes merchants of Ghent who were coming back from the Sat.u.r.day market at Bruges, where they had sold for high prices doublets and short mantles of cloth of gold and silver bought for a few sous from ruined n.o.bles who desired by their luxury and splendour to imitate the Spaniards.
And they kept revels and feasting because of their big profits.
Ulenspiegel and Joos Lansaem, sitting in a corner, as they drank, and without being heard, agreed that Joos should go to the cure of the church, a good pastor, incensed against Spelle, the murderer of innocent men. After that he would go to his friends.
On the morrow, Joos Lansaem and Michielkin's friends, having been forewarned, left the Blauwe Gans, where they had their pints as usual, and so as to conceal their plans went off at curfew by different ways, and came to the Everghem causeway. They were seventeen in number.
At ten o'clock Spelle left the Falcon, followed by his two catchpolls and Pieter de Roose. Lansaem and his troop were hidden in the barn belonging to Samson Boene, a friend of Michielkin. The door of the barn was open. Spelle never saw them.
They heard him pa.s.s by, staggering with drink like Pieter de Roose and his two catchpolls also, and saying, in a thick voice and with many hiccups:
"Provosts! provosts! life is good to them in this world; hold me up, gallows birds that live on my leavings!"
Suddenly were heard upon the road, from the direction of the open country, the braying of an a.s.s and the crack of a whip.
"There is a restive donkey indeed," said Spelle, "that won't go on in spite of that good warning."
Suddenly they heard a great noise of wheels and a cart leaping along and coming down the middle of the road.
"Stop it!" cried Spelle.
As the cart pa.s.sed beside them, Spelle and his two catchpolls threw themselves on the donkey's head.
"This cart is empty," said one of the catchpolls.
"Lubber," said Spelle, "do empty carts gallop about by night all alone? There is somebody in this cart a-hiding; light the lanterns, hold them up, I am going to look in it."
The lanterns were lighted and Spelle climbed up on the cart, holding his own lamp; but scarcely had he looked than he uttered a great cry, and falling back, said:
"Michielkin! Michielkin! Jesu! have pity upon me!"
Then there rose up from the floor of the cart a man clad in white as pastry cooks are and holding in his hands two b.l.o.o.d.y feet.
Pieter de Roose, seeing the man stand up, illuminated by the lanterns, cried with the two catchpolls:
"Michielkin! Michielkin, the dead man! Lord have pity upon us!"
The seventeen came at the noise to look at the spectacle and were affrighted to see in the light of the clear moon how like was the image of Michielkin, the poor deceased.
And the ghost waved his bleeding feet.
It was his same full round visage, but pale through death, threatening, livid, and eaten under the chin by worms.
The ghost, still waving his bleeding feet, said to Spelle, who was groaning, lying flat on his back:
"Spelle, Provost Spelle, awake!"
But Spelle never moved.
"Spelle," said the ghost again, "Provost Spelle, awake or I fetch thee down with me into the mouth of gaping h.e.l.l."
Spelle got up, and with his hair straight up for terror, cried lamentably:
"Michielkin! Michielkin, have pity!"
Meanwhile, the townsfolk had come up, but Spelle saw nothing save the lanterns, which he took for the eyes of devils. He confessed as much later.
"Spelle," said the ghost of Michielkin, "art thou prepared to die?"
"Nay," replied the provost, "nay, Messire Michielkin; I am nowise prepared for it, and I would not appear before G.o.d with my soul all black with sin."
"Dost thou know me?" said the ghost.
"May G.o.d be my helper," said Spelle, "yea, I know thee; thou art the ghost of Michielkin, the pastry cook, who died, innocently in his bed, of the after effects of torture, and the two bleeding feet are those upon each of which I had a weight of fifty pounds hung. Ha! Michielkin, forgive me, this Pieter de Roose was so strong a tempter; he offered me fifty florins, which I accepted, to put thy name on the list."
"Dost thou desire to confess thyself?" said the ghost.