wn cup to the lips of vagabonds? There, take your reward."
His wife fell prostrate before him and begged his forgiveness, but the
heart of stone knew no pity, and flourishing the whip he held in his
hand he struck her with the ebony handle on her beautiful forehead with
such vehemence, that she sunk lifeless into the arms of the old man.
When he saw what he had done it was almost as if he repented of the
deed immediately; he stooped to see whether there was yet life in her,
but the little man said in a well-known voice, "Spare your trouble,
Peter; she was the most beautiful and lovely flower in the Schwarzwald,
but you have crushed it and never again will see it bloom."

Now the blood fled from Peter's cheek and he said, "It is you then, Mr.
Schatzhauser? well, what is done is done then, and I suppose this was
to happen. But I trust you will not inform against me."

"Wretch," replied the glass-mannikin, "what would it profit me if I
brought your mortal part to the gallows? It is not earthly tribunals
you have to fear, but another and more severe one; for you have sold
your soul to the evil one."

"And if I have sold my heart," cried Peter, "it is no one's fault but
yours and your deceitful treasures; your malicious spirit brought me to
ruin; you forced me to seek help from another, and upon you lies the
whole responsibility." He had scarcely uttered these words than the
little man grew enormously tall and broad, his eyes it is said became
as large as soup plates, and his mouth like a heated furnace vomiting
flames. Peter fell upon his knees, and his stone heart did not protect
his limbs from trembling like an aspen leaf. The sylvan spirit seized
him, as if with vultures' claws, by the nape of the neck, whirled him
round as the storm whirls the dry leaves, and dashed him to the ground
so that his ribs cracked within him. "You worm of dust," he cried, in
a voice roaring like thunder, "I could crush you if I wished, for you
have trespassed against the lord of the forest; but for the sake of
this dead woman that fed and refreshed me, I give you a week's respite.
If you do not repent I shall return and crush your bones, and you will
go hence in your sins."

It was already evening when some men passing by saw the wealthy Peter
Munk lying on the ground. They turned him over and over to see whether
there was still life in him, but for a long time looked in vain. At
length one of them went into the house, fetched som