‘Do you think you can steal the sheet off our bed, and my wife’s night-gown?’ said the Governor. ‘That is by no means impossible,’ said the Master Thief. ‘I only wish I could get your daughter as easily.’ So late at night the Master Thief went and cut down a thief who was hanging on the gallows, laid him on his own shoulders, and took him away with him. Then he got hold of a long ladder, set it up against the Governor’s bedroom window, and climbed up and moved the dead man’s head up and down, just as if he were some one who was standing outside and peeping in. ‘There’s the Master Thief, mother!’ said the Governor, nudging his wife. ‘Now I’ll just shoot him, that I will!’ So he took up a rifle which he had laid at his bedside. ‘Oh no, you must not do that,’ said his wife; ‘you yourself arranged that he was to come here.’ ‘Yes, mother, I will shoot him,’ said he, and lay there aiming, and then aiming again, for no sooner was the head up and he caught sight of it than it was gone again. At last he got a chance and fired, and the dead body fell with a loud thud to the ground, and down went the Master Thief too, as fast as he could. ‘Well,’ said the Governor, ‘I certainly am the chief man about here, but people soon begin to talk, and it would be very unpleasant if they were to see this dead body; the best thing that I can do is to go out and bury him.’ ‘Just do what you think best, father,’ said his wife. So the Governor got up and went downstairs, and as soon as he had gone out through the door, the Master Thief stole in and went straight upstairs to the woman. ‘Well, father dear,’ said she, for she thought it was her husband. ‘Have you got done already?’ ‘Oh yes, I only put him into a hole,’ said he, ‘and raked a little earth over him; that’s all I have been able to do to-night, for it is fearful weather outside. I will bury him better afterwards, but just let me have the sheet to wipe myself with, for he was bleeding, and I have got covered with blood with carrying him.’ So she gave him the sheet. ‘You will have to let me have your night-gown too,’ he said, ‘for I begin to see that the sheet won’t be enough.’ Then she gave him her night-gown, but just then it came into his head that he had forgotten to lock the door, and he was forced to go downstairs and do it before he could lie down in bed again. So off he went with the sheet, and the night-gown too. An hour later the real Governor returned. ‘Well, what a time it has taken to lock the house door, father!’ said his wife, ‘and what have you done with the sheet and the night-gown?’ ‘What do you mean?’ asked the Governor. ‘Oh, I am asking you what you have done with the night-gown and sheet that you got to wipe the blood off yourself with,’ said she. ‘Good heavens!’ said the Governor, ‘has he actually got the better of me again?’