"So is a cat," replied the jester, "rather thievishly disposed towards mice, but still an honourable beast, as the world goes, with a mighty soft tread, and a sleek skin well smoothed." "But he is thievishly disposed to no one," answered Father George. "By my faith! that is saying much for any man under ninety," rejoined the jester; "for there are many kinds of thievishness, which assault us at different stages of this world's journey; and I have seldom met with the male thing of twenty, or thereabouts, that would not steal a smile from beauty, or a heart if he could get it, in a very roguish manner." "That is lawful robbery," said the priest, with a smile, "against which there is no commandment." "Ay, if the church have its dues," cried the jester, "then things are easily managed; but Heaven help me! I blame not the youth, nor call him a cat either; I but said that Grimalkin is as honest as he." "But not so bold, so brave, and so true," answered Father George, "else he belies his teaching." "He seems brave enough, in truth," answered Count Frederick, "for he is even now gone to put his head into a lion's mouth." "Ah! how is that?" exclaimed Father George, in evident surprise and alarm; "I knew not that he was going anywhere." "He has gone to beard the Baron of Eppenfeld in his hold," answered the Count; "you can judge better, my good friend, what reception he is likely to meet with than I can." "Comfortable lodging and good food," replied the jester, "if nothing worse; but clean straw, and bread and water may serve a man's turn very well, if it be not on compulsion. Compulsion is the salad of bitter herbs, that makes all a man's meat have a hard flavour." "And when does he propose to come back?" asked the monk, without noting Herr von Narren's words. "As soon as he can ride thither and return," said Count Frederick in reply; "he may be back by nine, I should think." "He must have help in case of need," replied Father George, thoughtfully. "That he shall have beyond all doubt," answered the nobleman; "depend upon it, no wrong shall befall him without vengeance from my hand." "Ay, that is the way with all these great lords," exclaimed the jester; "vengeance is a part of their creed. Now a fool or a serf would think it better to stop evil deeds than to punish them: if I were to kill your horse, uncle, the beast would not be a bit better off for knowing that my head would pay the penalty. I say, let those who can, stop the doing of that which is amiss, and then there will be no occasion for avenging it afterwards." He spoke with a good deal of emphasis, and then turned round to the lattice-window and looked out, while the priest and his noble visitor conversed for some few minutes apart.