"Don't talk to me, for shoot him I will," said he; and so he lay there and aimed and aimed; but as soon as the head came up before the window, and he saw a little of it, so soon was it down again. At last he thought he had a good aim; "bang" went the gun, down fell the dead body to the ground with a heavy thump, and down went the Master Thief too as fast as he could.
"Well," said the Squire, "it is quite true that I am the chief magistrate in these parts; but people are fond of talking, and it would be a bore if they came to see this dead man's body. I think the best thing to be done is that I should go down and bury him."
"You must do as you think best, dear," said his wife. So the Squire got out of bed and went down-stairs, and he had scarce put his foot out of the door before the Master Thief stole in, and went straight upstairs to his wife.
"Why, dear, back already!" said she, for she thought it was her husband.
"O yes, I only just put him into a hole, and threw a little earth over him. It is enough that he is out of sight, for it is such a bad night out of doors; by and by I'll do it better. But just let me have the sheet to wipe myself with—he was so bloody—and I have made myself in such a mess with him."
So he got the sheet.
After a while he said—
"Do you know I am afraid you must let me have your night-shift too, for the sheet won't do by itself; that I can see."
So she gave him the shift also. But just then it came across his mind that he had forgotten to lock the house
