od when she was fair and
young. Smallbones felt not the least disquietude; he sat down in the
chair by the fire, while the old woman looked in the cupboard behind him
for the cordial, of which she poured him a good allowance in a teacup.

Smallbones sipped and sipped, he was not in a hurry to get rid of it, as
it was good; the old woman went again to the cupboard, rattled the
things about a little, and then, on a sudden, taking out a large hammer,
as Smallbones unconsciously sipped, she raised it with both her hands,
and down came the blow on his devoted head.

The poor lad dropped the cup, sprang up convulsively, staggered, and
then fell. Once he rolled over, his leg quivered, and he then moved no
more.

The beldame watched him with the hammer in her hand, ready to repeat the
blow if necessary; indeed, she would have repeated it had it not been
that after he fell, in turning over Smallbones' head had rolled under
the low bedstead where she slept.

"My work is sure," muttered she, "and _all_ the _gold_ is _mine_."

Again she watched, but there was no motion--a stream of blood appeared
from under the bed, and ran in a little rivulet towards the fire-place.

"I wish I could pull him out," said the old woman, lugging at the lad's
legs; "another blow or two would make more sure." But the effort was
above her strength, and she abandoned it. "It's no matter," muttered
she; "he'll never tell tales again."

But there the old hag was mistaken; Smallbones had been stunned, but not
killed; the blow of the hammer had fortunately started off, divided the
flesh of the skull for three inches, with a gash which descended to his
ear. At the very time that she uttered her last expressions, Smallbones
was recovering his senses, but he was still confused, as if in a dream.

"Yes, yes," said the old woman, after some minutes' pause, "all the gold
is mine."

The lad heard this sentence, and he now remembered where he was, and
what had taken place. He was about to rise, when there was a knocking
at the door, and he lay still. It was Vanslyperken. The door was
opened by the old beldame.

"Is it done?" said he, in a loud whisper.

"Done!" cried the hag; "yes, and well done. Don't tell me of charmed
life. My blows are sure--see there."

"Are you sure that he is dead?"

"Quite sure, child--and all the gold is mine."

Vanslyperken looked with horror at the stream of blood still flowing,
and absorbed by the ashes in the g