"Ha ha, my little pikes, I will call you the Pope and the Emperor, that prey ever one upon the other; but I, forsooth, am the Common Man that shall catch you on his hook, in God's good time, and make an end of your battles!" XXVIII In the meantime Nele was taking care of Katheline, who was still out of her mind and who called continually upon Hanske, her ice-cold lover. But sometimes Nele would leave her mother safely guarded in the house of some kindly neighbour, and herself would wander far and wide and all alone, even unto Antwerp, searching ever, among the ships on the river, or along the dusty roads, for Ulenspiegel. And at home, also, in the house of Claes, it was evil days. Claes worked sadly on his land alone, for there was not enough work for two. And Soetkin stayed in the cottage by herself, cooking the beans which formed their daily fare in a hundred different ways, so that she might have something to enliven her husband's appetite. And she sang and laughed all the time, so that he might not be grieved by seeing her unhappy. One day a man on horseback drew up in front of the cottage. He was dressed all in black, he was very thin, and very sad of countenance. "Is any one within?" he asked. "God bless your sadness," answered Soetkin, "but am I a phantom, that seeing me here you must yet inquire if there is any one within?" "Where is your father?" asked the horseman. "If my father's name is Claes, he is over there," Soetkin told him. "You will find him sowing corn." The horseman departed in the direction in which she had pointed, and Soetkin also went her way ruefully, for this was the sixth time that she had had to go to the baker's to buy bread with no money to pay for it. On returning empty-handed to the cottage, Soetkin was amazed to see Claes coming down the road triumphantly seated on the horse of the man in black. He looked very proud of himself, and the man in black walked by his side holding the horse's bridle. Hanging at his side, Claes held a leathern bag which appeared to be full of things. Dismounting from the horse, Claes embraced his companion, gave him a playful pat upon the back, and then, shaking the bag, cried out in a loud voice: "Long life to Josse, my brother, the good hermit of Meyborg! May God keep him in joy and fatness, in happiness and health! Our Josse, patron of plenty, and of all abundance, and rich soups!" And so saying he took up the sack and deposited it upon the table. But Soetkin said sadly: "My good man, we shall not eat this day. The baker has refused to give me any bread."