The one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. "Thou fool!" he muttered
to himself, "to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next,
I should like to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when
I stood outside the walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me
into the castle for only two little minutes, I would have found
somewhere to have hidden myself while thy back was turned. But
what shall I do now?" He rested his pack upon the floor and
stood looking about him.

Built in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow
fireplace without carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered
around the bare stone space, his glance fell at last upon it,
and there it rested. For a while he stood looking intently at
it, presently he began rubbing his hand over his bristling chin
in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally he drew a deep
breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse himself
from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to make
sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace,
and stooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black
cavernous depth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened
himself, and tilting his leathern cap to one side, began
scratching his bullet-head; at last he drew a long breath. "Yes,
good," he muttered to himself; "he who jumps into the river must
e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile, dirty place to thrust
one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make the best of a
lame horse."

He settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his
hands, and once more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and
up the chimney he went with a rattle of loose mortar and a black