"Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave him rystpap to drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed." "Claes is in glory," said the widow. "His ashes beat against my heart," said Ulenspiegel. XLV During all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: "Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!" But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words. "A wife I am," she said, "and a wife you also ought to be. My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!" And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued: "Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat--he only it is that sees the mystery." One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said: "Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!" Soetkin answered: "It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols." But Katheline only crossed herself and said: "Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband--a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!" "Yes," cried Ulenspiegel, "a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!" Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous. "None of your husbands for me!" she said. But Katheline made answer: "When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?" Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts of dobbel kuyt what time she made ready some heete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders. Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews. "Because the butter is ready," said Katheline. So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts. "Mother," he asked, "what shall I do?" "Go," said Katheline.