Schatzhauser? Well, what is done, is done, and must have come to pass.
I hope, however, that you won't charge me with being her murderer
before the magistrate."

"Wretch!" exclaimed the Little Glass-Man, "how would it console me to
bring your mortal frame to the gallows? It is not earthly judges whom
you have to fear, but other and severer ones, for you have sold your
soul to the evil one."

"And if I have sold my heart," shrieked Peter, "you and your miserable
treasures are to blame for it! You, malicious spirit, have led me to
perdition, driven me to seek help of another, and you are answerable
for it all."

But hardly had Peter said this, when the Little Glass-Man swelled and
grew, and became both tall and broad, while his eyes were as large as
soup plates, and his mouth was like a heated oven from which flames
darted forth. Peter threw himself on his knees, and his marble heart
did not prevent his limbs from trembling like an aspen tree. The Spirit
of the Forest seized him by the neck with the talons of a hawk, and
whirled him about as a whirlwind sweeps up the dead leaves, and then
threw him to the ground with such force that all his ribs cracked.
"Earth-worm!" cried he, in a voice like a roll of thunder, "I could
dash you to pieces if I chose, for you have insulted the Master of the
Forest. But for this dead woman's sake, who has given me food and
drink, you shall have an eight days' reprieve. If you don't mend your
ways by that time, I will come and grind your limbs to powder, and you
shall die in all your sins!"

Night had come on, when some men who were passing saw the rich Peter
Munk lying on the ground. They turned him over, and searched for signs
of life; but for some time their efforts to restore him were in vain.
Finally one of them went into the house and brought out some water,
with which they sprinkled his face. Thereupon Peter drew a long breath,
groaned, and opened his eyes, looked about him, and inquired after
Lisbeth; but none of them had seen her. He thanked the men for the
assistance they had rendered him, slipped into his house and searched
every-where; but Lisbeth was nowhere to be found, and what he had taken
for a horrible dream was the bitter truth.

While he was sitting there quite alone, some strange thoughts came into
his mind; he was not afraid of anything, for his heart was cold; but
when he thought of his wife's death, the thought of his own death came
to him and he reflected ho