"Did you ever see the soul, brother?"

"No, I never saw it."

"Then how could you swear to it? A pretty figure you would make in
a court of justice, to swear to a thing which you never saw. Hold
up your head, fellow. When and where did you see it? Now upon
your oath, fellow, do you mean to say that this Roman stole the
donkey's foal? Oh, there's no one for cross-questioning like
Counsellor P---. Our people when they are in a hobble always like
to employ him, though he is somewhat dear. Now, brother, how can
you get over the 'upon your oath, fellow, will you say that you
have a soul?'"

"Well, we will take no oaths on the subject; but you yourself
believe in the soul. I have heard you say that you believe in
dukkerin; now what is dukkerin but the soul science?"

"When did I say that I believed in it?"

"Why, after that fight, when you pointed to the bloody mark in the
cloud, whilst he you wot of was galloping in the barouche to the
old town, amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, and flame of
heaven."

"I have some kind of remembrance of it, brother."

"Then, again, I heard you say that the dook of Abershaw rode every
night on horseback down the wooded hill."