Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears. Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together: "He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!" The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob. "Kill him!" they shouted. "Put him out of his misery!" And they began to throw missiles at the provost. Soetkin cried aloud: "The flame! The great flame!" And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke. "He is about to die," said the widow. "O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?" And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued to shout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke: "Soetkin! Tyl!" And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead. And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying: "My soul wants to get out!" Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck. And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead. XLIII In Katheline's cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother. The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings. "He is in glory," said the widow. "Pray for him," said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.