ot to bring a bit of candle.
Descend, Kasper, you know the way better than I--I'll follow you."

At this proposition the shepherd recoiled promptly. If he had consulted
his inclinations the poor man would have taken to flight; his pitiful
expression made the burgomaster burst out laughing.

"Well, Hans, since he doesn't want to go down, show me the way," he
said to the game warden.

"But, Mr. Burgomaster," said the latter, "you know very well that steps
are missing; we should risk breaking our necks."

"Then what's to be done?"

"Yes, what's to be done?"

"Send your dog," replied Petrus.

The shepherd whistled to his dog, showed him the stairway, urged
him--but he did not wish to take the chances any more than the others.

At this moment, a bright idea struck the rural guardsman.

"Ha! Mr. Burgomaster," said he, "if you should fire your gun inside."

"Faith," cried the other, "you're right, we shall catch a glimpse at
least."

And without hesitating the worthy man approached the stairway and
leveled his gun.

But, by the acoustic effect which I have already pointed out, the
_spirit_, the marauder, the individual who chanced to be actually in
the cistern, had heard everything. The idea of stopping a gunshot did
not strike him as amusing, for in a shrill, piercing voice he cried:

"Stop! Don't fire--I'm coming."

Then the three functionaries looked at each other and laughed softly,
and the burgomaster, leaning over the opening again, cried rudely:

"Be quick about it, you varlet, or I'll shoot! Be quick about it!"

He cocked his gun, and the click seemed to hasten the ascent of the
mysterious person; they heard him rolling down some stones.
Nevertheless it still took him another minute before he appeared, the
cistern being at a depth of sixty feet.

What was this man doing in such deep darkness? He must be some great
criminal! So at least thought Petrus Mauerer and his acolytes.

At last a vague form could be discerned in the dark, then slowly, by
degrees, a little man, four and a half feet high at the most, frail,
ragged, his face withered and yellow, his eye gleaming like a magpie's,
and his hair tangled, came out shouting:

"By what right do you come to disturb my studies, wretched creatures?"

This grandiose apostrophe was scarcely in accord with his costume and
physiognomy. Accordingly the burgomaster indignantly replied:

"Try to show that you're honest, you knave, or I'll begin by
administ