crushed the skull and blood and white matter oozed out. The face changed to a bloody mush. A strong hand pulled Simon off the body.
“Damn! Why didn’t you finish him off before he began to scream? Now they know where we are.”
The hangman threw the bloodstained branch to one side and dragged Simon behind the woodpile. The physician could not answer. The face of the dead man had burned itself into his memory like a picture.
Soon afterward they heard voices coming closer.
“Andre, was that you? What’s happened?”
“We must get away from here,” whispered the hangman. “There are still four of them, and they’re likely to be experienced soldiers. They understand about fighting.” He grabbed the half-unconscious Simon and dragged him to the edge of the wood. Then they let themselves drop into a bush and watched what happened next.
It only took the men a short time to find the body. There were loud cries, someone screamed. Then they swarmed in all directions. Watching the torches, Simon could see that they always stayed in pairs. They went along the edge of the wood and poked their torches into dark places. Once they passed within a few steps of their bush. But it was too dark and they could not see anything. Finally they gathered together again by the corpse. As Simon was getting ready to breathe again, he saw that one of the points of light was approaching their hiding place. It was one man alone. From his gait he could see that the man had a limp.
At the edge of the forest, not far from their bush, he halted and raised his nose in the air. It looked as if he was sniffing. His voice reached them clearly.
“I know that was you, hangman,” hissed the limping man. “And I know that you are somewhere out there. Believe me, I’ll have my revenge. I’ll cut off your nose, ears, and lips. The tortures you have inflicted on others are nothing to those you yourself will suffer. You’ll beg me to smash your skull in, just as you have done to Andre.”
The man turned abruptly around and was swallowed by darkness.
Not until some time had passed did Simon dare to breathe freely.
“Who…who was that?” he asked.
The hangman stood up and brushed the leaves from his coat. “That was the devil. And he’s got away from us. All because you crapped your pants!”
Automatically, Simon turned away from him. He felt that he was not only afraid of the devil but also of the man next to him.
“I…I can’t kill,” he whispered. “I’m a physician. I’ve learned to heal people, not to kill them.”
The hangman smiled sadly.
“There you are. But we are supposed to be able to do it. And when we do it, then you are horrified. Stupid lot, you’re all the same.”
He stomped off into the forest. Suddenly Simon was alone.
Magdalena knocked frantically at the little manhole down by the Lech Gate. The opening was just high and wide enough for one person to fit through it. In this way the watchmen didn’t need to open the whole gate for latecomers, thus risking an attack.
“It’s the middle of the night! Come back tomorrow; the gate opens when the bell strikes six,” growled a voice from the other side.
“Alois, it’s me! Magdalena Kuisl. Open, it’s important!”
“What’s next? First I let you in, then out again, and now you want to come in again. Forget about it, Magdalena, nobody comes into the town before the morning.”
“Alois, down at the building site on the Hohenfurch Road there is more destruction in progress. Strangers are there! My father and Simon are watching them, but they can’t hold out long! We need the bailiffs!”
The manhole creaked open. A weary watchman stared at her. He stank of brandy and sleep. “I can’t help you there. You must go to Lechner.”
Only a short time later Magdalena stood before the gate of the ducal castle. The guards let her in but would not allow her to wake the court clerk. She shouted and scolded, until at last a window opened on the second floor of the residence.
“What’s all the racket down there, damn it?”
Lechner, in his nightgown, blinked sleepily down at her from his window. Magdalena seized her chance and told the clerk briefly what had happened. When she had finished her story, he nodded.
“I’m coming down right away. Wait there.”
Some time later they were walking with the night watchmen and the guards along the Augsburg Road toward the Hohenfurch Road. The men were armed with pikes and two muskets. They looked tired and did not give the impression that it was their greatest desire to get up before dawn to hunt for a few marauding soldiers. Johann Lechner had hurriedly put on his doublet and cloak, and his hair was tousled under his official cap. He looked suspiciously at Magdalena.
“I only hope you are telling the truth. Otherwise both of you-you and your father-can look out for trouble. And anyway, what is the hangman doing outside on the Hohenfurch Road at this time? Respectable burghers stay at home! Lately, your father has had a bit too much to say for my taste. He should torment and hang, and otherwise keep his mouth shut, by God!”
Magdalena bowed her head humbly.
“We were gathering herbs in the woods. Haircap moss and mugwort. You know, they can only be picked by moonlight.”
“Devilish stuff, that! And what was Fronwieser’s son doing there? I don’t believe one word of it, hangman’s daughter!”
In the meantime dawn started to break. The watchmen extinguished their lanterns as they approached the misty clearing near the road. Further back on a pile of wood sat the hangman and the physician.
Johann Lechner stamped up to the two men. “Well? Where are your vandals? I can’t see anything. And the building site looks exactly as it did yesterday!”
Jakob Kuisl rose. “They fled before they could destroy anything. I hit one of them in the face.”
“Oh, yes. And where is he now?” probed the clerk.
“He…didn’t look well. The others took him with them.”
“Kuisl, give me one reason why I should believe this story.”
“Tell me one reason why I should otherwise call you out here in the middle of the night.”
The hangman now approached the clerk.
“There were five,” said Kuisl emphatically. “Four of them were soldiers. The fifth was…somebody else. Their patron, I assume. And I believe he comes from the town.”
The clerk smiled. “I don’t suppose you recognized him, by any chance?”
“It was too dark,” Simon now joined the discussion. “But the others talked about him. They called him Moneybags. He must be a rich burgher.”
“And why should this rich burgher commission a couple of soldiers to vandalize the building site of the leper house?” Lechner interrupted.
“They didn’t damage it. They were looking for something,” said Simon.
“What now? Did they destroy the building site, or were they looking for something? First you said that they were going to destroy it.”
“Damn it, Lechner,” growled Jakob Kuisl. “Don’t be so slow-witted! Someone hired these men to upset everything here, something that would hinder the workers, so that their patron could look for what is hidden here in peace!”
“But that’s nonsense!” interrupted Johann Lechner. “They didn’t gain anything by damaging things. The work is still proceeding in spite of everything.”
“There were delays, though,” added Simon.
Jakob Kuisl fell silent. The clerk was just about to turn away when the hangman suddenly spoke again.
“The foundations.”
“What?”
“The patron must suppose that the treasure, or whatever it is, lies under the foundations. When the building work here is finished he won’t be able to get at it anymore. Then buildings of stone will stand here, all mortared and walled up, so he has to interfere with the work and in the meantime turn over every bit of earth until he finds what he is looking for.”
