Now when Oliver had ended his discourse, I could not enough admire the Providence of God. Now could I understand how the good God had not alone protected me like a father from this monster in Westphalia, but had, moreover, so brought it about that he should go in fear of me. Now could I see what a trick I had played on him, to which the old Herzbruder's prophecy did apply, yet which he himself expounded, as may be seen in the fourteenth chapter, in another way, and that to my great profit. For had this beast but known I was the Huntsman of Soest he had surely made me drink of the same cup I served to him before at the sheep-fold. I considered, moreover, how wisely and darkly Herzbruder had delivered his predictions, and thought in myself that, though his prophecies were wont commonly to turn out true, yet 'twould go hard and must happen strangely if I was to revenge the death of one that had deserved the wheel and the gallows: I found it also good for my health that I had not first told him of my life, for so had I told him the way how I before had disgraced him. And as I thought thereupon, I did mark in Oliver's face certain scratches that he had not at Magdeburg, and so did conceive that these scars were the tokens of Jump-i'-th'-field, when at that former time he, in the likeness of a devil, did thus scrabble his face, and so asked him whence he had those signs, adding thereto that, though he had told me his whole life, yet I must gather that he had left out the best part, since he had not yet told me who had so marked him. "Ah, brother," answered he, "were I to tell all my tricks and rogueries the time would be too long both for you and me: yet to shew thee that I conceal from thee none of my adventures I will tell thee the truth of this, though methinks 'tis but a sorry story for me.