My scattered senses were beginning to return. I sat myself down with pain
and difficulty, for Azazel had bruised me all over, and I felt fearfully
stiff and sore.
"Was it you who saved me?" I asked the shepherd.
"Yes, my boy, it was."
"Well, you are a good fellow, and I am much obliged to you. I withdraw
the curse I laid upon your goat. Here, take this."
I handed him my purse with sixteen florins in it.
"Thank you, sir," said he, "and now you can begin again if you like on
even ground. Down there it was not fair; the goat had all the advantage."
"Thank you very much! But I have had quite enough. Shake hands, old
fellow; I'll never forget you. Let us go now."
My comrade and I, arm-in-arm, then descended the hill.
The shepherd, leaning on his crook, watched us till we disappeared. The
goat had resumed his walk and his supper on the very edge of the crags.
The sky was lovely, the air balmy with a thousand sweet mountain perfumes
carried on it with the distant sounds of the shepherd's horn and the
booming of the torrent.
We returned to Tubingen with our hearts full.
Since that time my friend Elias has found some comfort for slaying the
Seigneur Kaspar, but in an original fashion.
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