ned the other, surveying him with a terrible
penetrating look. "Your way lies not through this glade."

"You are quite right," said Peter, "but it is so hot to-day, and I
thought it would be cooler here."

"Utter no falsehoods, Charcoal-Peter!" thundered Dutch Michael; "or I
will strike you to earth with my staff! Do you think that I have not
seen you begging of that pigmy yonder?" And he continued in more gentle
tones: "Go to! Go to! that was a silly thing to do, and well it was for
you that you did not know the incantation. He is a niggard, that little
fellow, and gives but little; and those to whom he gives have not
enough wherewith to enjoy themselves. Peter, you are a poor simpleton,
and my heart grieves for you; such a brave and handsome fellow as
you are, one who should make his mark in the world, and yet but a
charcoal-burner! While others can throw away whole armsful of thalers
and ducats, you have but a few farthings to spend;--'tis a wretched
existence."

"True! true! You are right! 'Tis a miserable life!"

"Well, it is no fault of mine," pursued the terrible Michael; "I have
already rescued many a brave fellow from misery, and you would not be
the first. Tell me: how many hundred thalers do you want to begin
with?"

As he spoke Michael rattled the money in his huge pocket, and the sound
of it was as in the dream overnight. But his words caused Peter's heart
to quake fearfully and painfully in his breast, he went hot and cold,
for he did not look as one who offers gold out of compassion without
expecting something in exchange.

[Illustration: Peter Munk, what are you doing in the pine grove?]

There flashed into his mind the mysterious words of the old man when
speaking of those who had become rich, whereupon, seized with
indefinable horror and dread, he exclaimed: "Many thanks, good sir! but
I would rather have nothing to do with you; I have heard enough of you
already!" Saying which, he turned and ran away as fast as he could.

But the Forest demon, taking enormous strides, kept at his side,
muttering in a dull and threatening voice: "You will repent this,
Peter--so stands it written on your brow; I can read it in your eyes!
_You cannot escape me!_--Run not so fast: hearken to a word of reason;
yonder is the boundary of my domain."

Hearing this and seeing not far ahead a little ditch, Peter redoubled
his speed in order to cross it and escape, and Michael was compelled to
hurry in order to keep u