Well, I have got his coat, with his own mark on it.'
Berbel shuddered slightly, strong though she was. She liked Wastei, but
she had often guessed that there was a latent ferocity in him which
would come out some day.
'And how could the coat have come to the Jew's shop?' she asked, after
a pause.
'You know they had a houseful of servants, all thieves from the city,
and they were always getting new ones, instead of keeping honest folk
from the estate. The young lord sent them all away and took his own
people, God bless him. But on the night when they all died, the
servants were alone in the house, before your lady got over there, and
when she did, she could not do everything. I have heard that they
buried them all in fine clothes. Well, in the confusion, you may be
sure that one of the servants stole the coat with the blood on it, and
as he expected to stay in the house, and could not have worn it
himself, he took it to the Jew and sold it for what he could get. You
see it looks likely, because the Jew would have waited at least a year
before trying to sell it, for fear of being caught.'
'That is true,' said Berbel thoughtfully.
'I would not have told the story to any one else,' observed Wastei.
'But as you know everything, you may as well know this too.'
'What? Is there anything more?'
'Nothing particular,' answered Wastei. 'Except that there was a hole in
the pocket,' he added carelessly. 'You see it was not quite new, or I
could not have got it for twenty marks.
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