won't get in here.


THE GRAVE-DIGGER.

Alas! my dear man, have pity on us! We are not pilgrims, as you have
rightly guessed; but we are unfortunate poachers pursued by the keepers.
The gendarmes are after us, too, and, if you don't let us hide in your
hay-loft, we shall be caught and taken to prison.


THE HEMP-BEATER.

But what proof have we this time that you are what you say? for here is
one falsehood already that you could not follow up.


THE GRAVE-DIGGER.

If you will open the door, we will show you a fine piece of game we have
killed.


THE HEMP-BEATER.

Show it now, for we are suspicious.


THE GRAVE-DIGGER.