"Then, good faith! I'll stay and watch with you, Sir Ferdinand," answered the jester; "two fools are better than one, at any time, and one by profession and one by taste ought to be a match for a score or two of spirits, whether they be black, white, or grey." "I've a notion, Herr von Narren," answered Ferdinand; "that you have less of a fool in you than many who would be more ashamed of the name." "Good lack!" answered the jester, "you do my wit but little justice, youth. Who would not be a fool, when wise men do such things every day. Better to profess folly at once, of your own good will, than to have other men put the cap upon your head. A fool has one great advantage over a wise man which no one will deny him--a fool can be wise when he pleases, a wise man cannot be foolish when he likes. Oh! the bauble for ever; I would not change my motley just yet for a robe of miniver. But we'll watch, we'll watch, and we'll make ourselves comfortable too. By my faith! it gets cold of nights, or else the chilly wing of another world is flapping through this old hall. Go, get some logs, good youth, and we'll have a fire then; with our toes upon the andirons, and our chins in our palms. By the beard of St. Barnabas, we'll tell old stories of strange things gone by, till the cock shall crow before we know it. You are not afraid to leave me with the tankards, I suppose, for, on my life, I drink fair with every man, and have no itch for silver." "Oh no, I do not fear," answered Ferdinand, "and I'll soon bring logs enough for the night. A cheerful blaze will do us no harm, and I shall be glad of your company." Thus saying, he left the place, and from the great coffer at the entrance of the lesser hall, he soon loaded himself with sufficient wood, as he thought, to last the night. When he re-entered the great hall, he found the jester walking back from the other end towards the centre, where the fireplace stood; and as he came near, the young man inquired, "Were you talking to yourself just now, Herr von Narren?" "Nay, good sooth, that were waste of words," answered the jester. "I was peeping through yonder keyhole, and as it is a mighty ghostly looking door, I thought I might as well tell the spirits not to disturb us, as we had much to talk about. They took it all in good part, poor things, and said nothing; though after all it would be but charity to let them come and have a warm at our good fire, for it must be cold down stairs, I fancy, and your ghost is thinly clad. Where does yon door lead to, good youth?" "To the serfs burying vault," answered Ferdinand, "and then to the old chapel under the new one."