chaps had looked at him so brutally. In there, it was still; those
windows gleamed so brightly; and, after the sound of the bell, there came
so softly a woman's voice:

"_Venite adoremus_...."

Then all was silence, the lights went out. And he fared on.

The village lay behind him and the road began to climb. There, on the
right, stood "The Jolly Hangman." Now he knows his way and 'tis no longer
far from home. From out of the ditch comes something creeping, a black
shape that runs across the plain, chattering like a magpie: Mad Wanne,
with her thin legs and her cloak wide open. She ran as fast as she could
run and vanished behind the inn.

He had started; he became so frightened, so uneasy, that he hastened his
steps and longed to be at home.

There was still a light in "The Jolly Hangman" and a noise of drunken
men. He passed, but then turned back again ... to sing his last song,
according to old custom. They opened the door and asked him in. He saw
Grendel sitting there and tried to get away. Then the three of them
rushed out and called after him. When they saw that he went on, they
broke into a run:

"Stop, you brute!... Here, you with your star!... Oh, you damned singer
of songs!" they howled and ran and caught him and threw him down.

Grendel dug his knee into his chest and held his arms stretched wide
against the ground. Wulf and Dras gripped whole handfuls of snow and