"Not for the son of a headsman. I see you are ignorant of the laws of this country. Here in Germany the son of a headsman is bound by law to adopt the profession of his father, and should the executioner have a daughter instead of a son, in that case, the man who marries his daughter is bound to be headsman. Then the Scharfrichter is obliged to build his house a mile away from other men, for he is a being hated and shunned by everyone." "This then is the reason of your solitude?" "It is; and so far is this superstitious fear of contamination carried in this country, that your citizen considers himself defiled if by chance he has eaten out of the same plate that a headsman has once used. Accordingly all vendors of crockery have orders to knock a chip out of every earthen vessel that they sell to the headsman." "Dear me!" exclaimed my ancestor, "what a peculiar custom! I never heard that before. I certainly did remark that your crockery was in a most dilapidated state, but I didn't consider the remark worth making, although more than once in the course of the evening I felt inclined to ask you how on earth you contrived to knock out chips of such a peculiar shape by mere accident." "Ah!" sighed the headsman, "what between the crockery-seller and----" Here he put his finger to his lip and looked round the room suspiciously. "What is the matter?" asked the student. "Hush!" said the headsman, "it isn't always safe to talk of mischievous people--they are apt to appear. You know the saying, 'Talk of the devil.'" "Well," said my ancestor, "but what has that to do with your broken crockery?" "Hush!" answered his host, looking round him half-timidly; then whispered, "I have a certain mischievous lodger that does my crockery more harm than either the crockery-seller or my boy upstairs when he's fractious." "Ah!" exclaimed the traveller in surprise, "you have a lodger in your house?" "Ay!--a lodger who never pays his rent, and who drives me to my wit's end by shying my crockery at my head. Look here, what a cut he gave my wrist once in one of his pranks. I shall bear this mark to my grave." So saying, he bared his wrist and displayed a deep, livid wound, long since healed, but which left behind a scar which nothing could efface. "An ugly cut, to be sure," remarked the Englishman. "But why on earth do you not get rid of so playful a lodger?" "Get rid of him! I only wish the devil I could. He comes here uninvited and---- But let us not talk of him, or he may pay us another of his pleasant visits, when you will be able to make his acquaintance. He never stands upon ceremony, but comes just whenever he likes. He may be in the room now, for what I know. I shall be off to bed."