a bench which stood in the sunny space before the
house-door. It seemed as if I had heard the unseen kobold, laughing in
mockery, seat himself near me. The key turned in the door, it opened,
and the Forest-master issued forth with papers in his hand. A mist
seemed to envelop my head. I looked up, and--horror! the man in the
gray coat sat by me, gazing on me with a satanic leer. He had drawn
his magic-cap at once over his head and mine; at his feet lay his
and my shadow peaceably by each other. He played negligently with
the well-known parchment which he held in his hand, and as the
Forest-master, busied with his documents, went to and fro in the
shadow of the arbor, he stooped familiarly to my ear and whispered
in it these words--"So then you have, notwithstanding, accepted my
invitation, and here sit we for once, two heads under one cap. All
right! all right! But now give me my bird's nest again; you have no
further need of it, and are too honest a man to wish to withhold it
from me; but there needs no thanks; I assure you that I have lent it
you with the most hearty good will." He took it unceremoniously out
of my hand, put it in his pocket, and laughed at me again, and that so
loud that the Forest-master himself looked round at the noise. I sat
there as if changed to stone.

"But you must admit," continued he, "that such a cap is much more
convenient. It covers not only your person but your shadow at the same
time, and as many others as you have a mind to take with you. See you
again today. I conduct two of them"--he laughed again. "Mark this,
Schlemihl; what we at first won't do with a good will, that will we
in the end be compelled to. I still fancy you will buy that thing
from me, take back the bride (for it is yet time), and we leave Rascal
dangling on the gallows, an easy thing for us so long as rope is to be
had. Hear you--I will give you also my cap into the bargain."

The mother came forth, and the conversation began. "How goes it with
Mina?"

"She weeps."

"Silly child! it cannot be altered!"

"Certainly not; but to give her to another so soon? Oh, man! thou art
cruel to thy own child."

"No, mother, that thou quite mistakest. When she, even before she has
wept out her childish tears, finds herself the wife of a very rich and
honorable man, she will awake comforted out of her trouble as out of a
dream, and thank God and us--that shalt thou see!"

"God grant it!"

"She possesses now, indeed, a very