"You are a brave man, but let me tell you that no one goes along the dunes on Saturday nights without being bitten by the werwolf and left dead on the sands. Even the men who are at work on the dikes never go there except in a party. The evening is coming on. Do you not hear the werwolf howling in his valley? Perchance he will come again into the cemetery, even as he came last night, howling most horribly through all the hours of darkness! God be with you, my son. But go not there." And the curé crossed himself. "The ashes beat upon my heart," answered Ulenspiegel. The curé said: "Because you have so brave a spirit I will help you." "Monsieur le Curé," said Ulenspiegel, "you will be doing a great kindness, as well to me as to this poor desolated land of ours, if you will go to Toria, the dead girl's mother, and to her two brothers also, and tell them that the wolf is near at hand, and that I am going out to wait for it and kill it." The curé said: "If you want to know where you should lie in wait, let me advise you to keep along by the path which leads to the cemetery. It runs between two hedges of broom. It is so narrow two men could scarcely walk abreast." "I understand," said Ulenspiegel. "And you, brave curé, will you tell the girl's mother and her husband and her brothers to come themselves and wait together in the church about the hour of the curfew. There, if they hear a cry like the cry of a seagull, it will mean that I have seen the werwolf. Then they must sound the wacharm on the bell, and come fast to my assistance. And if there are any other brave men...." "There are none, my son," replied the curé. "The fishermen are less afraid of the plague and of death itself than of the werwolf. Do not go, I beseech you." Ulenspiegel answered: "The ashes beat upon my heart." And the curé said to him: "I will do as you bid. God bless you. Are you hungry or thirsty?" "Both," answered Ulenspiegel. The curé gave him some beer, some bread, and some cheese, and Ulenspiegel when he had eaten and drunk went his way. And as he walked along he raised his eyes and beheld Claes, his father, seated in glory at the side of God in heaven where the moon shone so brightly. And thereafter he gazed upon the sea and upon the clouds, and he heard the wind that came blowing stormily from England. "Alas!" he cried, "O Dusky Clouds that pass along so rapidly yonder in the sky, be you now for a vengeance on the murderer. And you, O Wind that whistles so sadly in the gorse along the dunes and in the rigging of the ships, be you now the voice of the victims that cry to God that he should help me on in this enterprise."