cried: "A hospital on wheels!" then the head vanished again like that of
a fish, which has risen to take a breath of air.

"Very true," replied the artist. "You need not draw up your limbs so
far, my worthy Lansquenet, but I must request these reverend gentlemen to
move a little farther apart, or closer together, and make room for the
sick lad on the leather sack."

While these words were uttered, one of the escort laid the still
senseless boy under the tilt.

Magister Sutor noticed the snow that clung to Ulrich's hair and clothing,
and while struggling to rise, uttered a repellent "no," while Stubenrauch
hastily added reproachfully: "There will be a perfect pool here, when
that melts; you gave us these places, Meister Moor, but we hardly
expected to receive also dripping limbs and rheumatic pains...."

Before he finished the sentence, the bandaged head again appeared from
the straw, and the high, shrill voice of the man concealed under it,
asked? "Was the blood of the wounded wayfarer, the good Samaritan picked
up by the roadside, dry or wet?"

An encouraging glance from Sutor requested Stubenrauch to make an
appropriate answer, and the latter in an unctuous tone, hastily replied:
"It was the Lord, who caused the Samaritan to find the wounded man by the
roadside--this did not happen in our case, for the wet boy is forced upon
us, and though we are Samaritans....."

"You are not yet merciful," cried the voice from the straw.