inked, then they shut their eyes,
and then they nodded until all were as dumb as logs, and as sound asleep
as though they would never waken again. Only the servant and the piper
stayed awake, for the music did not make them drowsy as it did the rest.
Then, when all but they two were tight and fast asleep, the travelling
companion arose, tucked away his pipe, and, stepping up to the young
man, took from off his finger a splendid ruby ring, as red as blood
and as bright as fire, and popped the same into his pocket. And all the
while the serving-man stood gaping like a fish to see what his comrade
was about. "Come," said the travelling companion, "it is time we were
going," and off they went, shutting the door behind them.

As for the serving-man, though he remembered his promise and said
nothing concerning what he had beheld, his wits buzzed in his head like
a hive of bees, for he thought that of all the ugly tricks he had seen,
none was more ugly than this--to bewitch the poor sorrowful young man
into a sleep, and then to rob him of his ruby ring after he had fed them
so well and had treated them so kindly.

But the next day they jogged on together again until by-and-by they came
to a great forest. There they wandered up and down till night came upon
them and found them still stumbling onward through the darkness, while
the poor serving-man's flesh quaked to hear the wild beasts and the
wolves growling and howling around them.

But all the while the angel--his travelling companion--said never a
word; he seemed to doubt nothing nor fear nothing, but trudged straight
ahead until, by-and-by, they saw a light twinkling far away, and, when
they came to it, they found a gloomy stone house, as ugly as eyes ever
looked upon. Up stepped the servant's comrade and knocked upon the
door--rap! tap! tap! By-and-by it was opened a crack, and there stood an
ugly old woman, blear-eyed and crooked and gnarled as a winter twig.
But the heart within her was good for all that. "Alas, poor folk!"
she cried, "why do you come here? This is a den where lives a band of
wicked thieves. Every day they go out to rob and murder poor travellers
like yourselves. By-and-by they will come back, and when they find you
here they will certainly kill you."

"No matter for that," said the travelling companion; "we can go no
farther to-night, so you must let us in and hide us as best you may."

And in he went, as he said, with the servant at his heels trem