Also, my dear gossip, the Reverend Martinus, climbed up into the cart
again, and admonished the people not to forestall the law; and seeing that
the storm had somewhat abated, he could now be heard. And when they had
become somewhat more quiet, _Dom. Consul_ left the corpse of the Sheriff
in charge with the miller, until such time as, by God's help, he should
return. _Item_, he caused the grey charger to be tied up to the oak-tree
till the same time, seeing that the miller swore that he had no room in
the mill, inasmuch as his stable was filled with straw; but that he would
give the grey horse some hay, and keep good watch over him. And now were
we wretched creatures forced to get into the cart again, after that the
unsearchable will of God had once more dashed all our hopes. The constable
gnashed his teeth with rage, while he took the cords out of his pocket to
bind my poor child to the rail withal. As I saw right well what he was
about to do, I pulled a few groats out of my pocket, and whispered into
his ear, "Be merciful, for she cannot possibly run away, and do you
hereafter help her to die quickly, and you shall get ten groats more from
me!" This worked well, and albeit he pretended before the people to pull
the ropes tight, seeing they all cried out with might and main, "Haul
hard, haul hard!" in truth he bound her hands more gently than before, and
even without making her fast to the rail; but he sat up behind us again
with the naked sword, and after that _Dom. Consul_ had prayed aloud, "God
the Father, dwell with us," likewise the _Custos_ had led another hymn (I
know not what he sang, neither does my child), we went on our way,
according to the unfathomable will of God, after this fashion: the
worshipful court went before, whereas all the folks, to our great joy,
fell back, and the fellows with the pitchforks lingered a good way behind
us, now that the Sheriff was dead.