"I am sorry for you, bad as you are," said the little man, after a moment's reflection. "And as your wish is not a foolish one, I can at least, not refuse to help you. Listen, therefore. By force you can never regain possession of your heart, but you can do so by cunning; and by such means you may achieve your purpose without much difficulty; for Michael is still the stupid Michael, although he deems himself so clever. Go straight to him, therefore, and do exactly as I tell you!" Saying which, he gave him full instructions how to proceed, and handed him a little cross of transparent glass. "He cannot take your life, and if you hold this up in front of him, saying your prayers meanwhile, he will have to let you go unharmed. And if you succeed in obtaining that which you go for, return to me here immediately."
Peter Munk took the little cross, and trying to remember all that he had been told to do, he proceeded to Dutch Michael's abode. Having called him thrice by name, the giant stood before him.
"And so you have slain your wife?" asked the Dutchman, laughing horribly. "I should have done the same, for she was squandering all your fortune on beggars. But you must leave the country for a time, for there will be trouble when they find she is missing; and you want money, of course, and have come to me for some?"
"You have guessed aright!" replied Peter; "and a substantial sum this time, for it is a long way to America."
Michael led the way to his cottage, where he opened a desk in which lay a store of money, and took therefrom a roll of gold coins. As he was counting them out on the table, Peter said to him: "You are a miserable cheat, Michael, to have deceived me as you did, trying to make me believe that I had a stone in my breast and that you had my heart."
Michael stared at him perplexedly. "And is it not so?" he asked. "Can you feel your heart? Is it not as cold as ice? Do you know what it is to be afraid, or sorry, or remorseful?"
"You have only made my heart stop still; but it is still here in my breast; and Ezekiel, also, agrees with me that you have imposed on both of us. You are not the sort of man who could tear anybody's heart out of their breast without their knowledge, or without danger to them--that would be witchcraft indeed!"
"But I assure you," cried Michael angrily, "you and Ezekiel and all those who came to me and are now rich have cold hearts in their bosoms just as you have, and their own hearts I have here in my keeping."
"Ah; how glibly the lies slip off your tongue," laughed Peter. "You may tell that story to other people. Do you think I did not come across dozens of such conjuring tricks when on my travels? The hearts here in this room are made of wax. You are a wealthy fellow--I will concede so much, but you are a fool at magic."
The giant flew into a rage, and, flinging open the door to the inner room, he cried: "Come in here and read all the labels, especially that one there; look, that is Peter Munk's heart. See how it beats! Do you think it is possible to make such a thing as that out of wax?"