When he saw this, Peter at once seemed to feel remorseful, for he bent down to see if there were any life left in her; but the little old man said, in well-known tones:
“Trouble thyself no further, Coal-Peter; here was the fairest and sweetest blossom in all the forest, but thou hast trodden it under foot, and it will never bloom again.”
Every drop of blood left Peter’s cheeks, and he stammered: “It is you, then, Master Treasure-keeper? Well, what is done is done, and doubtless it had to be. But I trust you will not denounce me to justice as a murderer?”
“Miserable wretch!” said the little Glass-man sternly. “What good would it do me to bring thy perishable body to the gallows? Not earthly judgments hast thou to fear, but other and more terrible ones; for thou hast sold thy soul to the Evil One.”
“And if I have sold my heart,” screamed Peter, “it is thou who art to blame, thou and thy deceitful treasures! Thou, malicious spirit, hast been my undoing—’tis thou hast driven me to ask help from another—thou hast to answer for it all!”
But hardly had he spoken these words, when the little Glass-man began to grow larger and taller, till he towered above him, and his eyes, they declare, were as large as soup-plates, and his mouth was like a heated oven, and breathed forth fiery flames. Peter fell on his knees, and his stone heart did not prevent him from trembling like an aspen leaf. The wood-spirit seized him by the neck with its hawk-like talons, whirled him round as the storm-wind does a dry leaf, and then cast him to the ground again, so that all his bones rattled.
“Earth-worm!” he cried with a voice of thunder, “I could shatter thee to atoms if I would, for thou hast blasphemed against the Lord of the Forest. But, for this dead woman’s sake, who gave me food and drink, I will grant thee eight days’ respite. If thou dost not turn and repent thee in that time, I will come and grind thy bones to powder, and thou shalt go hence in thy sins!”
It was already evening, when some men who were going by saw rich Peter Munk lying on the ground. They turned him this way and that, and sought if there was still any breath in him, but for a time they sought in vain. Presently one fetched water from the house and sprinkled some over him, and at that Peter gave a deep sigh, moaned, and opened his eyes. He looked about him, and asked where Mistress Lisbeth was, but no one had seen her. Then he thanked the men for their help, and crawled into his house, where he began seeking in every corner from roof to cellar, but Mistress Lisbeth was nowhere to be found. So he knew that what he had taken for a hideous dream was the awful reality.