Old Hildebrand

In a bustling village where everyone knew everyone else’s business, there lived a peasant named Hildebrand who was known for two things: his advanced age and his extraordinary cleverness. Though his hair had turned white and his back had grown bent from years of hard work, his mind remained as sharp as a razor, and his wit was quicker than a cat catching mice.

Old Hildebrand lived with his wife Martha in a modest cottage on the outskirts of the village. Martha was a good woman, but she was easily impressed by smooth talkers and fancy clothes, which sometimes led her into situations that required Hildebrand’s clever intervention.

One market day, Martha went to town to sell eggs and butter from their small farm. While she was conducting her business in the market square, she was approached by a well-dressed stranger who introduced himself as a traveling merchant.

The merchant was actually a confidence trickster who made his living by swindling honest country folk. He had noticed Martha’s simple manner and expensive-looking gold wedding ring, and he saw an opportunity for profit.

“Good woman,” the merchant said with an oily smile, “I couldn’t help but notice your beautiful wedding ring. It’s exactly the style my dear departed mother used to wear. I would pay handsomely for such a ring—far more than it’s worth—because of the sentimental value it would have for me.”

Martha was flattered by the merchant’s attention and touched by his story about his mother. “Oh, sir,” she said, “this ring has been in my family for generations. I could never sell it.”

“Of course, of course,” the merchant replied smoothly. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to part with such a precious heirloom permanently. But perhaps you would consider a temporary arrangement? I have business in the next town that will keep me away for exactly one week. If you would lend me the ring for that time, I would pay you ten gold pieces for the privilege, and when I return, I’ll give you the ring back and you can keep the gold.”

Ten gold pieces was more money than Martha and Hildebrand usually saw in six months. The offer seemed too good to refuse, especially since the merchant promised to return the ring in just one week.

“Well,” Martha said hesitantly, “if you promise to return it in exactly one week…”

“I give you my solemn word as a gentleman,” the merchant declared, placing his hand over his heart. “One week from today, I’ll return your ring and you’ll be ten gold pieces richer.”

Martha agreed to the arrangement and handed over her precious ring in exchange for the ten gold pieces. The merchant thanked her profusely and promised to meet her in the same spot in exactly one week.

When Martha returned home and told Hildebrand about the transaction, the old man immediately realized what had happened.

“Martha, my dear,” Hildebrand said gently, “I’m afraid you’ve been tricked by a confidence man. That fellow has no intention of returning your ring. He’ll be long gone by next week, and your grandmother’s ring will be lost forever.”

Martha was devastated when she understood the truth. “Oh, Hildebrand! How could I have been so foolish? That ring was the most valuable thing we owned, and now it’s gone forever!”

Hildebrand patted his wife’s hand comfortably. “Don’t despair, my dear. The ring isn’t gone yet, and if my guess is correct, our smooth-talking merchant friend hasn’t left town yet either. Confidence men like to stay around for a few days to see if they can pull off any additional tricks. I have a plan to get your ring back.”

Hildebrand spent the rest of the day making preparations for his scheme. He borrowed some fine clothes from the village tailor, practiced speaking in an educated accent, and even acquired a fancy walking stick to complete his disguise.

The next morning, Hildebrand dressed in his borrowed finery and went to the tavern where travelers usually stayed. Sure enough, the confidence trickster was there, regaling other patrons with tall tales about his supposed business dealings.

Hildebrand approached the merchant and introduced himself as a wealthy gentleman farmer from a neighboring district. He spoke in the refined accent he had practiced and made casual references to large sums of money and valuable properties.

“I say,” Hildebrand said to the merchant, “you seem like a man of the world. Perhaps you could advise me on a delicate matter. I have a rather valuable ring that I need to sell discretely—for reasons I’m sure you’ll understand. Family disagreement and all that. But I need to find a buyer who appreciates fine jewelry and can pay immediately in gold.”

The merchant’s eyes lit up with greed. Here was another potential victim, and this one seemed to have even more money than the peasant woman he had already swindled.

“Ah, my dear sir,” the merchant said smoothly, “you’ve come to the right man. I happen to be a collector of fine jewelry myself. Perhaps you would allow me to examine this ring you mention?”

Hildebrand pretended to hesitate. “Well, I suppose there would be no harm in letting a connoisseur such as yourself take a look.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out Martha’s ring, which he had “borrowed” from the merchant the night before through a bit of careful pickpocketing while the man slept off too much wine.

The merchant recognized the ring immediately but showed no sign of it. Instead, he examined it with an air of professional expertise.

“This is indeed a fine piece,” the merchant said, trying to contain his excitement. “I would be willing to pay… let’s say twenty gold pieces for such a ring.”

Hildebrand appeared to consider the offer carefully. “Twenty gold pieces? Hmm. I was hoping for more, but I suppose if you could pay immediately…”

“Absolutely!” the merchant said quickly. “I always carry sufficient funds for promising investments.” He counted out twenty gold pieces and handed them to Hildebrand in exchange for the ring.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Hildebrand said, pocketing the gold and walking away with a dignified air.

The merchant was delighted with his cleverness. Not only had he swindled the peasant woman out of her ring for ten gold pieces, but now he had sold it back to another victim for twenty gold pieces, making a neat profit of ten gold pieces on the transaction.

But Hildebrand wasn’t finished with his scheme yet. That evening, he returned to the tavern in his regular peasant clothes and approached the merchant again, this time pretending to be a different person entirely.

“Excuse me, sir,” Hildebrand said in his normal voice and manner, “but I wonder if you might help me with a problem. My wife sold a family ring to a gentleman earlier this week, and now she’s having second thoughts about the transaction. The gentleman promised to return in a week, but my wife is so distraught that I wondered if you might have seen him around town.”

Hildebrand described the “wealthy gentleman farmer” he had impersonated that morning, giving the merchant a perfect description of himself in disguise.

The merchant’s face went pale as he realized what had happened. The “wealthy gentleman” who had bought the ring from him was actually the husband of the peasant woman he had originally swindled. Not only had he lost the ring, but he was out ten gold pieces as well.

“I… I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone matching that description,” the merchant stammered, but his guilty expression told a different story.

Hildebrand nodded sadly. “I was afraid of that. Well, I suppose we’ll just have to wait and hope the gentleman returns as promised. My wife will be so disappointed.”

The merchant spent a sleepless night trying to figure out how to recover from this situation. He could hardly report being swindled without admitting to his own criminal activities. And he couldn’t very well approach the peasant woman and demand the return of her ring without revealing that he had never intended to give it back in the first place.

The next morning, the merchant decided to cut his losses and leave town immediately. But as he was packing his belongings, Hildebrand appeared at the tavern in his normal clothes.

“Good morning!” Hildebrand said cheerfully. “I have wonderful news! That gentleman I mentioned yesterday has returned the ring to my wife, just as he promised. Isn’t that marvelous? It just goes to show that there are still honest people in the world.”

The merchant stared at Hildebrand with growing suspicion and dawning comprehension.

“In fact,” Hildebrand continued with an innocent smile, “my wife was so pleased that she wanted me to give you this small token of appreciation for your… help yesterday evening.” He handed the merchant a single copper coin.

It was then that the merchant fully understood he had been thoroughly outmaneuvered by the clever old peasant. Hildebrand had not only recovered the ring but had also relieved the confidence man of ten additional gold pieces in the process.

“You…” the merchant sputtered, “you tricked me!”

Hildebrand’s expression became serious. “Sir, I simply gave you the opportunity to reveal your true character. You thought you were taking advantage of a simple country woman, but instead you discovered that honesty and cleverness often go hand in hand.”

The merchant realized he had no recourse. He could hardly complain to the authorities about being the victim of a trick when he himself had been engaged in criminal fraud. With as much dignity as he could muster, he packed his remaining belongings and left town in defeat.

Martha was overjoyed to have her ring back, and the additional ten gold pieces provided a comfortable cushion for their household expenses. But more than the money, she was impressed by her husband’s cleverness and ingenuity.

“Hildebrand,” she said admiringly, “how did you manage to outwit such a smooth-talking scoundrel?”

Hildebrand chuckled. “My dear Martha, I’ve lived long enough to recognize every type of fraud and deception that exists. The trick is not to try to match dishonest people in their dishonesty, but to use their own greed and overconfidence against them.”

The story of Old Hildebrand’s clever trick spread throughout the village and beyond, becoming a favorite tale told in taverns and around hearths. People especially enjoyed the poetic justice of the confidence man being out-conned by his intended victim.

From that day forward, traveling swindlers gave Hildebrand’s village a wide berth, having heard that the local folk were too clever to be easily deceived. Martha, for her part, became much more cautious about strangers bearing generous offers, though she never lost her fundamental trust in human goodness.

Hildebrand lived many more years, and his reputation for cleverness only grew with time. Young people would come to him for advice on dealing with difficult situations, and he always had some practical wisdom to share.

“Remember,” he would tell them, “intelligence is like a good tool—it’s most effective when used with skill and for the right purposes. The cleverest trick of all is to live honestly and help others do the same.”

And indeed, Old Hildebrand’s greatest trick was not any single deception he performed, but rather his ability to use his wit and experience to protect his community from those who would take advantage of honest, hardworking people. His legacy was not just as a clever trickster, but as a protector of the innocent and a defender of justice.