"Hans! My beloved, I knew you would come back! Oh, you are beautiful like this, all clad in velvet and gold, shining like a sun against the snow! Have you brought me those seven hundred caroluses? Shall I hear you again crying like the sea-eagle?" The high bailiff brought the cavalcade to a stand, and the pale gentleman said: "What does this beggar-woman want with me?" But Katheline, still holding the horse by the bridle, made answer: "You must be dreaming, Hans. Wake up from your dream! I have cried for you so long. O nights of love, my beloved! O kisses of snow, O body of ice! See, this is your child!" And she pointed to Nele, who was gazing at the man with terror, for now he had raised his whip as though he were about to strike at Katheline. But Katheline still continued her entreaties, weeping all the time: "Ah! Do you not remember? Have pity on your servant! Take her with you whithersoever you will! Put out the fire! Hans, have pity!" "Get out of the way!" he said. And he urged on his steed so quickly that Katheline was forced to loose hold of the bridle, and she fell on to the road, and the horse went over her, leaving a bleeding wound upon her forehead. Then the bailiff inquired of the pale horseman as to whether he knew aught of the woman. "I know her not," was the answer. "She is out of her wits, doubtless." But by this time Nele had helped up Katheline from the ground. "If this woman is mad," she said, "at least, my Lord, I am not. And I am ready to die here and now of this snow that I am eating"--and here Nele took and ate of the snow with her fingers--"if this horseman has not had knowledge of my mother, and if he has not forced her to lend him money, nay, all the money that she had, and if it was not he that killed the dog which belonged to Claes, so that he might take from the wall of the well those seven hundred caroluses which belonged to the poor man that is dead." "Hans, my pet," sobbed Katheline, "give me the kiss of peace. Time was when you killed your friend because you were jealous, by the dike.... You loved me well in those days." "Who is that man she speaks of?" demanded the bailiff. "I know not," said the pale horseman. "The talk of this beggar-woman is no concern of ours. Let us move on." But by now a crowd of people had collected, workpeople of the town, and they all began to take Katheline's part, crying: "Justice! Justice, my Lord Bailiff! Justice!" And the bailiff said to Nele: "Who is the one that was killed? Speak the truth in God's name." Then Nele said her say, pointing the while at the pale horseman: "This is the man who came every Saturday to the keet to visit my mother, and to take her money from her. He killed one of his own friends, Hilbert by name, in the field of Servaes Van der Vichte; and this he did not from any love of Katheline, as she in her innocent folly believes, but rather that he might get hold of her seven hundred caroluses and keep them all for himself."