to know the cause of his acts.

"Silence! Go and do it," replied the bay curtly, and Petru, without
further words, did as he was bid.

Scarcely had the hero flung the wreath aside, when the Whirlwinds
rushed upon it and tussled around it.

Petru now turned toward the house.

"Stop," cried the bay again, "I haven't yet told you every thing. Take
the silver wreath and knock at Holy Friday's window. When she asks
'Who is there?' say that you came on foot and have lost your way on
the moor. She will rebuff you. But you mustn't stir from the spot. Say
to her: 'I won't go away, for ever since I was a little child I have
always heard of Holy Friday (Venus) and--I didn't have steel shoes
made with calf-skin straps, did not travel nine years and nine months,
did not fight for this silver wreath I want to give her, did not do
and suffer all these things merely to turn back now that I have
reached her.' Act and speak as I have told you--what follows must be
your own care."

Petru made no reply, but went up to the house. As it was perfectly
dark, the hero did not see the dwelling, and was guided only by the
rays of light streaming through the window. When he reached the house
several dogs began to bark, because they knew some stranger was near.

"Who is fighting with the hounds? May his life be bitter," cried Holy
Friday angrily.

"It is I, Holy Friday!" said Petru, with laboring breath, like a man
who likes and yet is not quite satisfied with what he is doing. "I
have lost my way on the moor, and don't know where I can spend the
night." Here he stopped, not daring to say more.

"Where did you leave your horse?" asked Holy Friday rather sharply.

Petru reflected; he did not know whether he ought to tell a lie or
speak the truth, so he made no answer.

"Go, in God's name, my son, I have no room for you," said Holy Friday
retiring from the window.

Petru now repeated what the horse had told him to say. Scarcely had he
done so, when he saw Holy Friday open the window.

"Let me see the wreath, my son," she said sweetly, in a gentle tone.

Petru gave her the garland.

"Come into the house," said Holy Friday, "don't be afraid of the dogs,
they know what I want."

It was even so. The dogs began to wag their tails, and followed Petru
as they follow a master returning home from the fields at night. Petru
said "good evening" as he entered, laid his hat on the oven, and when
Holy Friday invited him to sit down took his plac