Schouts lifted the silver flagon while he spoke, and filled his goblet. "Two hundred and fifty golden crowns, my lord--the price that is set on that fellow's head," Cochlaeus answered. "What!" cried Schouts, in sharp surprise, with the goblet half-way to his lips. "You would make a crafty bargain with me, and pay me as much as you would pay one of my retainers if they chanced to find this lean-faced Englishman?" Schouts laughed scornfully, and instead of drinking he brought down the goblet heavily to the table, spilling the wine on his hand. "'Tis a big sum, my lord. Two hundred and fifty golden crowns." "It may be, Deacon, but I should get as much from this fellow's friends in Hamburg, for since I got hold of him I am told that some English merchants there have some regard for him, and are finding him money for this enterprise of his, this writing of pestilent papers. I shall go to them, perhaps to-morrow--perhaps to-night--and tell them how anxious the Churchmen are to burn their friend, but they only value him for fuel to an Inquisition fire at two hundred and fifty crowns. They will give me five hundred without a word, I'll warrant you, and think they got this Tyndale cheaply. But I'll not take five hundred from them, nor from you. The price for that Englishman in my dungeon is a thousand crowns, down here on this table, if you are the purchaser. Then you may torture him to your heart's content, or burn him, just as you are disposed." "A thousand crowns!" cried Cochlaeus, gazing at the robber lord in blank amazement, and in his movement of surprise unwittingly overturning the wine goblet near his hand. "Who would give you such a preposterous sum? No one!" He brought his clenched fist heavily on the table while he spoke. Schouts laughed, then drank off his wine, draining his goblet and filling it again before he answered. "I said a thousand crowns, and golden ones. And if nobody will give me that much, no one has him but myself, and I shall keep him. He won't cost much for his food, and I shall get a bit of satisfaction out of it all. I shall know, for instance, that you and your torturing crew in those Holy House cellars where you keep your racks and your thumbscrews are consumed with anger because you cannot work your will on that man you want so badly, and won't buy at my price." Schouts sipped at his wine two or three times, staring at Cochlaeus, half amused at the look on the Churchman's face. "I shall keep him for a time, and he may bring me in a good sum before I have done with him. His friends may go beyond the thousand when they know where he is." "I can't believe it!" exclaimed Cochlaeus, in a tone of incredulity.