etween the
Hartz Mountains and the Rhine.

But on one journey he was belated. He found himself in an unknown way
in a great fir forest, where the dark pines shut out the lamps of the
stars. He began to fear, for the forests were reputed to be infested
with robbers, when suddenly a peculiar light appeared. It was a fire
that fumed with a steady flame; he perceived it was a charcoal pit.

The colliers are honest people, he reasoned; and with a light step he
approached the pit.

Near-by was a long house, two stories high, and the lower windows were
bright with the candles and fire within.

He approached the house, and knocked upon the door.

The door was opened cautiously by a middle-aged woman, with a bent
form and beautiful, but troubled face.

"What would thee have, stranger?"

"Food and lodging, madam."

"That can never be--not here, not here. It distresses me to say it,
but it would not be for your comfort to tarry here."

"But I am belated, and have lost my way. I must come in."

"I will call my husband. Herman, come here!"

She stepped aside, when an elderly man appeared, holding a light shaded
by his hand, and followed by a group of children.

"I am a belated traveler," said he to Herman, the collier, "and I have
lost my way. I see that you are an honest man, and I may tell you that
I have merchandise of value, and so it is not safe for me to go on.
Give me a shelter and a meal, and I will pay for all."

"It is loath I am to turn away a stranger, but this is no place for a
traveler. The house is haunted, yet it will not be so always, I hope;
but it is so now."

"But, good man, I am not afraid."

"You do not know, stranger."

"But I can sleep where you can, and where this good woman can live
with her innocent children."

"You don't know," said the woman, "You don't know."

"But I must rest here. There may be thieves without, wolves. There
cannot be worse things within. I must come in, and I will."

Berthold forced his way into the house, and sat down near the fire,
laying his portmanteau near him.

The family were silent, and looked distressed. But the woman set
before him a meal.

"Let us sing," said the collier at last.

He turned to a table where were musical glasses, and began to play.
How sweet and delicate, like an angel's strain, the music was! Then
he began to sing with his family:

"Now th