The love of Tubal Ammon for it did not seem to count for much, for, with what sounded like a savage crack, he forced the lock and dragged the papers forth. "Ah, let me see them! Give them to me," said the chaplain eagerly. "Nay, not so quick, friend Ferguson," quoth Ammon. "Not till the price is paid, that is. Mayst see them if you will, but nothing more. Look you, here they are!" I heard him smooth the parchments out; then caught the flicker of a lantern as he held it up for Ferguson to see them. "What? there are three of them!" exclaimed the chaplain. "Well, that boots not. The one I want is there--the one you hold in front. Now, place them here betwixt us, underneath the box, while I count out thy most extortionate reward." He gave a cracking laugh, of which the other took no heed; then came the clink of slowly-counted gold, the counting of a usurer who weighed each piece and loathed to part therefrom. "Thou art a hard, tight-fisted fellow, Tubal Ammon," snarled Ferguson when all was ready. "Here, then, is thy hard-wrung price, and may the Lord requite thee for the taking of it from a man so poor as me!" Here Tubal Ammon laughed (or barked, were a truer name for it) and said: "’Tis well; now we are quits, methinks, for each hath what he sorely wanted. As for your poverty, most worthy chaplain, I would right gladly barter it for mine. Yea, friend, I always thought you rich, yet was not sure of it; and now that it is clearly proven--now I learn that thou art poor! Enough; we never know the truth. _Docendo discimus_. Pardon such faulty Latin. But, what say you, shall we now let go a psalm upon the night? Truly, our voices are a trifle cracked, but yet methinks ’twould make a fine duetto. Hark you! Like this--join in!" He raised a rasping, high-pitched voice, and sang a note or two. "Stop, fool!" hissed Ferguson. "Wouldst bring danger on us? We know not who may be in earshot of such owlish screeching! Art clean daft?" "Nay, only wondrous happy," answered Ammon. "Yes, and why?" growled Ferguson. "Because, like Shylock, thou hast claimed thy pound of flesh?" "Yea, verily, and got it; which is much more to the point." "Yes, got it," quoth the chaplain bitterly. "Wrung it from me like the clutching Jew you are. Let that suffice, and add not gibe to injury." "Ah, no! was ever miser yet who could bear parting with his gold, no matter how it had been earned?" sighed Ammon mockingly. "The devil take thee!" "Nay, I am his already--thanks to thee, most godly chaplain." "Provoke me not too far," hissed Ferguson. "I am not to be trifled with. You know me well, friend Ammon." "Yes, verily, I know you far too well." "Then keep your rasping tongue still. There was more inside the box than I had bargained for; and I would scan these papers carefully in peace." "And by the same token, sir," mocked Ammon, "I would fain count my money, lest, haply, thou hast overpaid me. Thus are we quits again."