"Ay, there doubtless you are in the right, master! You have pious and fatherly manner, and even generously exposed yourself to the risk of drawing down on you the king's wrath a second time, simply for the sake of exercising true Christian compassion, and saving the sinner's soul; but he is insensible to it, the scoundrel. His obstinacy is matchless. Could you believe it, master? Notwithstanding all you do to bring him to repentance and conversion, he curses you, nevertheless, every hour of the day, and wishes you may come to suffer a thousand times more torments in hell than you have here caused him to undergo out of pure Christian charity!" "I can well believe it, Morten; from such sort of folk one should never look for gratitude; but the roof and ceiling are in too sorry a plight," muttered the steward looking around him: "under the blue sky he needs not to sleep, either; it might be dangerous besides." "It was done according to your own order, master," resumed the cook in a credulous tone, and staring with an air of simplicity at the holes in the ceiling and the roof, "else it could never have rained down on that confounded Satan. Of a surety he will let alone flying with the owls through the roof; and when the nights are cold, a little rain and hail are right proper means of bringing him to reflection and confession of his sins." "Well, it is true, Morten; I myself _partly_ commanded it: but one should have moderation in all things; it should not appear as if the roof had been uncovered on purpose. Evil tongues will have plenty to talk of as it is. To-morrow the roof shall be repaired. Some small holes may remain--they will not catch the eye--fresh air is wholesome; even a little rain and snow may have their use. Not a rain-drop falls to the earth, Morten, but it may prove a means for the conversion of a hardened sinner." "Ah, master," said Morten, with a tremulous voice and clasped hands, "you should, by my troth, have been a bishop: you often speak so touchingly and edifyingly that the tears start into mine eyes." "Well," answered the steward with a self-satisfied smile, "I was, indeed, once intended to become a churchman, and though I got not the tonsure, I nevertheless learned many pious and useful truths during my noviciate; but it is not sufficient to _know_ the truth, we must, by my troth, know how to _use_ it for one's own and one's fellow-creature's salvation." "Ah, yes, master," resumed Morten, with a devout look, "who is there can say _that_ with as good a conscience as yourself? 'Tis a hard calling for a pious Christian conscience and a compassionate soul like yours, to be forced to play such bloodhound and hangman's tricks on a poor captive; but what will not one do for duty and precious virtue's sake, and to save an erring soul! Such a pious bloodhound and hangman----"